Promises, Promises: He Set His Face

Palm Sunday has, for me, always been a day of joy and excitement. It was for the crowd that day, too. Jerusalem with its narrow, winding streets bustling with the influx of faithful for the Passover, swelled from 40,000 inhabitants to 240,000 people. The Passover celebrated the history of God’s faithfulness to the people of Israel. But it wasn’t only about the past, always there was a cup on the table, poured for the prophet Elijah, awaiting his return and the subsequent coming of the Messiah. Now this man Jesus of Nazareth has performed signs and miracles and healing and he teaches with an authority that is unmatched, he just opens up Scripture in a way that you understand its message to you. I can just anticipation, if I were among the crowd, as Jesus approached on the Passover. He is coming on a donkey, just like the prophet Zechariah said the Messiah would.

All four Gospels tell about Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem. The crowd tears off palm branches, symbols of victory that were used to welcome home victorious kings and conquerors, and they removed their cloaks, their outer garments and spread them out on the ground. The description here in the Greek is very specific. The word for spread is the same word for used for spreading sheets on a bed. The context is very specific – the Romans spreading out their cloaks in victory marches as the conquering forces entered with their human captives and trophies. And the Romans also spread out fabric on their couches and put them in the street to welcome the gods. So, Jesus is being welcomed like a geopolitical victor and as a Roman god would be. The crowds shouted “Hosanna!” which means “Save.” Here comes their new king, who will save them from this oppressive Roman rule. And “Blessed is the One who comes in the name of the Lord!” a verse of Psalm 118, a Psalm of thanksgiving for God’s mercy. God’s peaceful Kingdom at last is being established. Justice will be dealt. Rome will skulk away, and Israel will once more reign sovereign. Ride on, King Jesus!

Their hopes were high! But what about Jesus? I’ve never really considered Jesus’ thoughts as he settled onto that donkey. Our Scripture this morning comes just after John records the shouting of the crowds. As they were making their way into Jerusalem, the road flanked with people waving palm branches, the path spread with cloaks, some Greeks who were among the crowd approached Philip, one of Jesus’ disciples, wanting to see Jesus. Greeks, remember, are Gentiles. Philip wasn’t handling this alone, he went and told Andrew and together they went and told Jesus. Jesus understood. The world is coming from East and West, North and South…to Jesus. The arrival of the Greeks points to the beginning of a new age, the hoped for fulfillment of God’s promise of a day when justice shall roll like a river, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.

When Philip and Andrew come to Jesus, he knows that the hour has come. And he knows that triumph can only be reached through sacrifice. It is as natural as the cycles of nature: seeds have to wither and die and fall to the ground and be buried if they are to grow and bear fruit. We often quote Jesus’ words here about our own calls and service, “Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there will my servant be also. Whoever serves me, the Father will honor.”

What we fail to remember are Jesus’ next words. John captures for us Jesus’ humanity, and struggle. “My soul is troubled. And what should I say – ‘Father, save me from this hour?” For so many years, I have focused on the crowds and the shouts of hope “Hosanna!” Salvation is riding into town! That I didn’t look at Jesus. I didn’t notice the grimace on his face, the determination, the way he looked straight ahead at the Temple Mount.

American pastor and theologian, Howard Thurman mused, “I wonder what was at work in the mind of Jesus of Nazareth as he jogged along on the back of that faithful donkey. Perhaps his mind was far away to the scenes of his childhood, feeling the sawdust between his toes in his father’s shop. He may have been remembering the high holy days in the synagogue with his whole body quickened by the echo of the ram’s horn. Or perhaps he was thinking of his mother, how deeply he loved her and how he wished that there had not been laid upon him this Great Necessity that sent him out on to the open road to proclaim the Truth, leaving her side forever. It may be that he lived all over again that high moment on the Sabbath when he was handed the scroll, and he unrolled it to the great passage from Isaiah, ‘The spirit of the Lord is upon me to preach good news to the poor.’ I wonder what was moving through the mind of the Master as he jogged along on the back of that faithful donkey.”

Perhaps he was thinking about seeds: about how the cold, hard earth, has to be broken up the soil to receive the seed; about the faith and trust, and risk, required of the farmer to scatter seed while the days are still short; about the quiet darkness of the earth surrounding the seed; about the hope of the sprout breaking through the earth’s surface, reaching for the sun; about the glory of full bloom. Whatever his thoughts, his resolve was steadfast, his face was set. “Should I say ‘Father, save me from this hour? No, it is for this reason that I have come to this hour. Father, glorify your name.”

We remember this week the planting of the seed as we journey with Jesus to an Upper Room to celebrate the Passover, to the Garden of Gethsemane to pray, to the depths of the dungeon and the heights of the cross, and then darkness until the most glorious new life blossoms. As we remember, we consider our own journey. Jesus invites us, “Whoever serves me must follow me…” What cold, hard ground in you needs to be prepared to receive seeds of transformation? What faith and trust, and risk, do you need to take to plant seeds to grow, even while the days are still short and it doesn’t look like there is any way these seeds will grow? How are you tending the seeds of God’s Kingdom even while the world in silent stillness lies in wait, raising awareness to need and to the cries of the earth and building relationships with all of our brothers and sisters? May we, like Jesus, set our face. The path to new life is not easy. It is not without betrayal, pain, loss, and even death. Our friends and our family won’t understand when we change, when we live in a new way. We will lose relationships. We will shift our priorities. Our earthly stuff and our worldly security won’t matter, but the least will. Our hearts will break for what breaks God’s heart, and we will not look away. Should we say, “Lord, save us from this hour? No, it is for this reason that we have come to his hour. Lord God, glorify your name.” In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.