Palms Psalm

March 28, 2010

Psalm 118:1-4, 16b-29 & John 12:9-19

I went to North Carolina last weekend to celebrate my mother-in-law’s eightieth birthday. (Hope you didn’t miss me … well, maybe a little.) It was a quiet affair we had, if 20 people in one house for a weekend can ever be too quiet.

We met in Montreat, a Presbyterian conference center & mountain retreat (hence the name, Mon-Treat). As a child, Sarah went every summer with family. She & I honeymooned there too (without her family!). We’ve returned over the years for conferences, to refresh our souls & renew acquaintances with dear friends.

The center rests in a vast forest of oak, maple & pine trees. Mountain laurel, azaleas & ferns grow thick around cottages & burbling creeks.

It’s so pretty up there, some folks say “heaven & earth meet” at the old stone gates of the village. That may be an overstatement. But every time we drive through those gates, Sarah insists we roll down the windows to breathe the clean, crisp, oxygen-rich air. It is heavenly in there.

* *

I’m not sure the same can be said of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem. What awaited him on the far side of those gates was less heaven & more hell.

One writer strips away the sentimental veneer by calling the first Palm Sunday “a shabby show in [a] carnival atmosphere” (Lamar Williamson, John, p. 148). After all, the folks who met Jesus had been walking for days to arrive in time for Passover. They were tired, dusty, & smellier than normal. They were ready for some “froth” – a bit of cheer & entertainment to distract them from aching bones, bawling babies, hungry bellies, & blistered feet.

When who should come along, but a “simply dressed provincial rabbi … on a borrowed donkey”?

They followed him down the rocky slope of the Mount of Olives, across the valley, & up to the gate nearest the Temple – a temple Solomon built & Herod rebuilt. Some spectators cut palm branches & shouted “Hosanna!” as if for a conquering king.

Clearly, this wasn’t any old rabbi. Word spread quickly that he had raised Lazarus from the dead the day before. Inside the city there was wind of it too, & people came to see for themselves – to see Lazarus, anyway. He got as much attention as Jesus, John says.

That left the chief priests in a tizzy. Not that they favored Jesus; they were just mad that the commotion kept spreading. The only way to stop it, they determined, was to kill Jesus. And Lazarus!

The disciples meanwhile were off in their own world. They didn’t understand what was happening around them. John tells us it made sense to them only later – after Jesus was “glorified” through his death & resurrection.

* *

So how did those disciples grasp the events of that day? How’d they finally make sense of it all? Same way we do, every time we come to church & read scripture. They listened to an ancient text & connected the dots to what was going on in their day.

• They heard the Psalmist call, “Open to me the gates of righteousness!” & recognized that Jesus, the Righteous One, passed through a similar gate.

• They heard shouts of “Hosanna!” in the psalm & in the street. (We miss it in English, but when the psalm begs God to “Save us!” the Hebrew word is hosanna.)

• Again, with both the psalm & the parade, the crowd shouts, “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.”

• The psalm even speaks about a “festal procession” & “branches.” Peter & the other disciples were thick. But not thick enough to miss that!

Some might think the Psalmist was prophetic. It looks like he predicted several hundred years in advance what would happen on Palm Sunday with Jesus.

But I imagine the reverse. Rather than one person knowing the future, I say a lot of people knew the past. Recalling Psalm 118 gave them a key to understand what Jesus – & God – were up to that day.

It’s easier, after all, to know the past than the future. If being faithful requires knowing the future in every detail, we’re all up the creek. But reading scripture & making connections? We can do that.

And the disciples did. When baffled by the sign of Jesus entering the city, they went back to their Book & started to read it. And they found a connection – two records of God coming to people (like you & me) with salvation. Two records of people responding with gladness & joy. One in the psalms, & one right before their eyes in the person of Jesus.

Knowing the past helped them make sense of the present. Scripture became a reservoir of memory for them, a well of knowledge they could draw on to understand & shape their lives. It was a tool they could use.

Scripture spoke to them as a living voice of God’s work in the world. It brought some sense in the midst of their confusion.

* *

That’s not to say that the psalm & Palm Sunday were carbon copies of each other.

Rather than forcing Jesus to stay within the lines of the psalm, they saw how he moved beyond it.

In the psalm, for instance, the one who comes is narrowly nationalistic. He’s is Israel’s God. Which is fine.

But in the Gospel account, Jesus rejects that. He knew that the palm branches & shouts of hosanna were aimed at making him messiah over the few rather than many. The crowd knew it too, shouting, “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord – the king of Israel.”

So he got on a donkey – instead of a white horse – to show that he’s not that kind of messiah. He rode into town as an outcast … ready to gather other outcasts, not keep them out.

Jesus moves beyond the psalm by being different – & bigger – than the psalmist imagined. He was greater than other minds could comprehend … including the disciples. Grander, more glorious … but only by being less than they ever dreamed.

Jesus achieved his glory by being humble. He got victory through rejection. He triumphed at last, not by coasting in through the gates of the city, but by crouching out through the door of a tomb.

* *

Through him, we discover that heaven & earth do meet not at the gates of a city – be it Jerusalem, Montreat or Milwaukee – but in the flesh & blood of Jesus. Not in the stones of those gates, either, but in “the stone that the builders rejected.” That’s where the foundation of our faith is laid. Heaven & earth are visible in the one who walks among us & rides a donkey … caring for strangers … offering himself … putting others first … & calling us to do likewise.

And heaven & earth meet in places like this – this sanctuary, this community of God’s people, where folks recognize the Christ & sing God’s praise & commit themselves to do God’s will in his name.

The Pharisees who looked on at the scene that day didn’t know what they were saying. But muttering to each other, they spoke a great truth. They said, “See, you can do nothing.” That’s right. They couldn’t. Individually, & by our own scheming, we’ll never accomplish what we want. Nor will we stop the work God is doing, or prevent others from joining it too. God’s steadfast love endures forever. And nothing can stop it.

“Look!” the Pharisees also said. “The whole world has gone after him.”

That left the Pharisees forlorn & frustrated. But for the Psalmist & us, it’s good news of great joy – a sign that God is still reaching out, still ready for grander & more glorious things. So when the Psalms says: Let Israel say … we answer: “God’s steadfast love endures forever.” And when it calls “let the house of Aaron say” … we reply, “God’s steadfast love endures forever!” And

• Let all of Wauwatosa say … (You weren’t ready for that, were you? A recorded voice on an answering machine sounds more alive: “Press One if God’s steadfast love endures forever.” That’s your line: … God’s steadfast love endures forever!)

• So let God’s frozen Chosen say: God’s steadfast love endures forever!

• Let women & men say: God’s steadfast love endures forever!

• Adults & children: God’s steadfast love endures forever!

• Democrats & Republicans, regardless where you stand on the healthcare debate, say it: God’s steadfast love endures forever! (Because this is what matters. If we can’t remember & agree on God’s steadfast love from the past, we’ll never settle anything in the present.)

• Let the people of Haiti say: God’s steadfast love endures forever!

• And for the people of the Sudan & Chile, let’s hear you say: God’s steadfast love endures forever!

• And all who love God, don’t be shy! … God’s steadfast love endures forever!

If you’re ever discouraged, whisper it to yourself.

If you can’t see your way to the future, think it out loud, but not too loud – or others will think you’re nuts.

If you can’t think of one nice thing to say to someone, don’t say nothing (which is the usual advice). Say, God’s steadfast love endures forever! Then show it.

And when you find yourself (as you will) on a road with confused disciples & angry priests & a crowd that doesn’t know whether to look at Lazarus or Jesus or themselves in a mirror … a crowd that shouts hosanna & waves palm branches for all the wrong reasons, remind them that … God’s steadfast love endures forever!

At the end of the psalm & the end of the day, that’s what it’s all about. It’s what God put us here for. It keeps our reservoir of memory flowing through the ages.

And it’s what the provincial rabbi on a borrowed donkey came to show us.

Steadfast love. Love that does not quit, but always finds a way …

To the glory of God.