Palm Sunday

April 5, 2009

Mark 11:1-11

The crowd gathered and grew in size. The people cheered loudly and applauded wildly. They could be heard at some distance. As time went on, it was acknowledged that, while their activity would not be stopped, some in power positions—political and religious leaders—were opposed to what was happening. Still the celebration lasted for some time. Then, as it was getting late in the day, the crowd slowly dispersed.

That was the scene on the Pentecrest here in Iowa City on Friday as thousands gathered for the rally to celebrate the Iowa Supreme Court decision that allows marriage equality in Iowa.
I had a different sermon prepared for today—and some Palm Sunday I might preach it. But this morning I want to share a few reflections from Friday’s celebration.

What an afternoon! I saw members of this congregation there with their children. I saw friends of this congregation. I was able to represent Congregational UCC when I joined a few other clergy on the stage as Bruce Kittle, a former member of this church and now the pastor at Faith UCC in here in Iowa City, addressed the crowd. It was a joyful time. It was, as one sign said, “a victory for family values.”

It was a humbling afternoon for me. I was able to be a part of a crowd, most of whom had lived their lives without one of the most basic rights that so many of us take for granted. I was able to be a part of a crowd, many of whom are despised and rejected by some in the name of the faith I proclaim. I was able to be a part of a crowd that had hoped and prayed and struggled and acted so that this day might happen.

Near the end of the rally one of the organizers of the event acknowledged that there were people who took the Court’s decision as a defeat. And he was gracious enough to ask the crowd to be kind and give those people some space so that a conversation might continue—or at least begin. It wasn’t an overtly religious gathering, but the parting word was similar to saying: “Return no one evil for evil but in all things seek the good.” It was a humbling afternoon for me.

This was also a time that left me proud. I was proud to be the member of a congregation that has supported the rights of gays and lesbians, a congregation that celebrated unions between people in this sanctuary even when the state would not let them be called marriages. I was proud to be a member of a denomination that has called for marriage equality for some time.

And I was proud to be a resident of this state that has a long history of supporting the basic rights of people, beginning by outlawing slavery while we were still a territory back in 1839 and that has now become just the third state to allow full marriage equality for all people. We know what our friends on the coasts often forget—that Heartland values are progressive values. You’ve probably seen those T shirts with a map of Iowa that say “Native” on them. Yesterday I wanted one that read “Proud Immigrant.”

I was proud and humbled at the same time.

The crowd gathered and grew in size. The people cheered loudly and applauded wildly. They could be heard at some distance. As time went on, it was acknowledged that, while their activity would not be stopped, some in power positions—political and religious leaders—were opposed to what was happening. Still the celebration lasted for some time. Then, as it was getting late in the day, the crowd slowly dispersed.

That describes Iowa City on Friday. It also sounds a lot like Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, doesn’t it?

The Palm Sunday story still informs our lives today.

It reminds us that our actions—even though they might seem strange or inconsequential—are the ways that we make openings for God’s new creation in the world.

Look at Jesus and his disciples approaching Jerusalem together. You can’t help but think that even the densest of Jesus’ followers know something big is going to happen. The rulers and the religious leaders are growing increasingly impatient with Jesus. At the same time, the crowds are getting bigger. They are getting closer to the capital city—the seat of religious and political power. What great thing might Jesus ask them to do now?

Well, more than half of Mark’s account of Palm Sunday is taken up telling how two disciples are sent into a village to get a colt. We hear all the details: what kind of colt to look for, what to do, what to say if someone stops them. Then we hear that those two disciples go and carry out the instructions.

As Mark tells the good news, the disciples spend a lot of time doing things like finding a donkey. They check to see how much food is available for the people who have come to listen to Jesus. They find a boat so that he can get away from the crowd. Later in this week we’ll hear how they go to scope out a place to eat and make it ready for Jesus.

This is following in the way of Jesus Christ. It’s not necessarily what we would expect.

Thomas Long, who teaches in the school of theology at Emory University down in Atlanta, puts it this way: “On the one hand, we are called to prepare the way for Jesus’ ministry, and it is his ministry, not ours, that ultimately counts. We are but donkey fetchers. On the other hand, because we are—in ways often hidden from our eyes—‘preparing the way of the Lord,’ the routine, often exhausting, seemingly mundane donkey-fetching details of our service are gathered into the great arc of Jesus’ redemptive work in the world.”[i] Our small acts of faithfulness are an important part of the work that God is doing in this world.

For most of us, most of the time, it’s the small things we do that will prepare the way for the ministry of Christ in the world. For most of us, we’re just asked to go out and find a donkey.

On Friday we remembered the story of couples who applied for wedding licenses—in some ways a small, common task that many people do every day. But because these were gay and lesbian couples, their small, courageous action called attention to injustice and ultimately led to the Court’s decision.

Small acts of faithfulness:

We knit shawls and pray and visit the sick, but it is God who gives wholeness, it is God who gives healing even when the illness is not cured.

We put out the cots and stay up through the night and clean the restrooms in the morning when the Shelter House needs overflow space on cold winter nights, but it is God who shelters the homeless.

We stand in vigils, we pray for the safety of loved ones serving in Iraq, we write to our representatives and senators, but it is God who brings peace to the world.

We take the time to listen to a child’s question, to laugh and cry with them, to show them a way of life that is forgiving and compassionate, but it is God who shapes a youth into a faithful adult.

Mark’s Gospel suggests that something important is happening in the little things we do—or don’t do—each day.

Yes, there are times when people are called to do great things. There will be times when even we will be surprised by our own great courage, our own strong love, our own deep compassion. But often, as the Palm Sunday story shows us, our faithfulness in the small things prepares a way so that greater things might be accomplished.

Palm Sunday also reminds us that even in our success, we face opposition.

We know the whole story.

Jesus comes into Jerusalem to the praise of the multitude. Within a week he is carried out of the city by a throng shouting crucify him. This is enough like our own lives that it seems familiar, real.

Life does not come with a very extensive guarantee. We make our commitments—as we do everything, really—with a faith that dares to step out with no iron‑clad assurances.

In a large part, “following Jesus” is a matter of giving over more of life to God. We give over our fear. We set aside our reluctance and move ahead. We know that everything does not work out.

We know that already there are people working to overturn the Supreme Court’s decision. We know that there are people working to amend the state constitution in order to take away basic rights from people. As Iowans we can find some inspiration in our wonderful state motto: “Our liberties we prize and our rights we will maintain.”

And as Christians we can find some strength in the cry of the people as Jesus came into Jerusalem: “Hossana!”—a word that means “God save us.” Even in times of great success, we recognize the opposition that we face and seek the help of God for the tasks of love and justice that God calls us to do.

The Christian story is not one of greater and greater achievements. The Christian story knows the gladness of Palm Sunday—and celebrates God's power and love.

But the Christian story also knows the horrible defeat of Good Friday—and still celebrates God's power and love.

And so Palm Sunday reminds us ultimately that it is good to celebrate—to wave palm branches or rainbow flags. When justice is done, when health is restored, when life is going well, it is good to get together with other people, to sing and dance, to talk and shout to laugh and weep.

It’s good to remember those stories in scripture, like the one we heard this morning, in which everything seems to work out.

Obeying Jesus, those disciples go into the next town. They find the colt just as Jesus told them. Even when they meet with some resistance—bystanders who ask: “Why are you untying this animal?”—a few words overcome the obstacles in their path.

All is going well.

With Jesus on the colt, the procession heads toward Jerusalem. Jesus is in control. The celebration begins as the people praise God for all that they have seen and heard.

Those disciples who set off looking for a colt did not have a guarantee. They had only the command. But that was enough.

We're following Christ, seeking to obey the word that we have heard. The road ahead will often be as muddy as a dirt path in the spring.

Sometimes it will look like everything is working out. In those times let us rejoice and give thanks to God. 

Sometimes it will appear as though nothing is working out. Then let us still rejoice and give thanks to God.

Through it all God is God, calling us to faithful obedience.

Through it all God is God, giving no guarantees.

We know a power that is stronger even than our defeats. We know a love that is stronger than death. Even on Palm Sunday and Good Friday we turn our eyes toward the empty tomb.

Each day, in celebration and struggle, the joyful shout of Easter comes to us: Christ is risen.

In that affirmation we will find the strength and courage that we need.