130324 Palm Sunday Posture

When I was in college, I read a book by Charles Swindoll that served to seriously ramp up my life: Living Above the Level of Mediocrity.  Definitely fit into my Type A, Seven Habits personality type.  (Note: I’m not nearly as Type A as I used to be).  Years later I heard him speak at a pastors conference in Indianapolis.  He was talking about how we pastors have a tendency to wrap our egos way too tightly around our ministries.  We can lose focus of why the church exists, and take too personally its successes and failures.  In essence, we can find ourselves thinking that the church and ministry and even faith itself is really about us.

So Swindoll spoke for a moment about Palm Sunday.  Specifically, he talked about the beast of burden Jesus chose for his ride into Jerusalem.  As he rode the never-ridden-before young donkey, the crowds lined the streets, laying down their cloaks, waving palm branches, and shouting praise to God and support for Jesus.  Swindoll wondered out loud what the donkey must have thought of all of this.  “This is amazing!  these people love me!  I had no idea! I am really special – I must be with all these people cheering me on!”  Swindoll noted that we sometimes feel that way – we who carry Jesus into the world – that the we are the ones people are crowding to see.  Swindoll’s tender advice?  Don’t be a jackass…

I love that story.  I told it years ago in my church and one of my members gave me a commemorative jackass to remember the moment and remind myself of the point.

Don’t be a jackass?  Well, maybe we’re not supposed to be thinking we are the point, but the jackass actually is a critical part of the story, and is a critical part of our story, too.

Sometimes when we read the Palm Sunday story we read it with the wrong set of glasses.  We definitely read it from a post-Easter perspective.  And from a post Constantine-adopts-Christianity-as-the-official-religion period as well.  And, to push it further, I believe we now read it from the vantage point of being citizens of the current global Super Power.  We are the champions.  We therefore rather like the title our ancestors gave this passage: The Triumphal Entry.  I’ve been tempted to want to be part of this “Bad Ass Christianity” which has a strong following in the US.  But the more I read about Jesus, that approach would just make me look like a dumbass.  I think I now hear a jackass braying somewhere in the distance.
The truth is Jesus entrance into Jerusalem was meant to communicate anything but triumphal.  So, we need to put an asterisk on that title, and a footnote that says “an example of irony.”  Jesus knew what he was doing, too – don’t think for a moment that this whole scene just sort of happened in the moment.

Jesus knew where to send the disciples to fetch the young donkey.  People from the region of Galilee in Jerusalem for the Feast of the Passover knew Jesus by sight, knew his message, and were ready to play their part in Jesus’ well-designed dramatic entrance marking the beginning of the last week of his life.  He wanted to make a statement.  He knew what he was doing.  He wanted to be crystal clear with his communication.  And he knew he had to be congruent with the rest of his life.  The message was wrapped up in how he packaged himself.  His posture as he rode into his final week of life communicated what he was really about, and what God was really about, too.

The crowd responded to him as if they were heralding the arrival of a king.  Laying cloaks on the ground, waving palm branches, even their words of praise all make a statement of belief about the one who was receiving it.  It is interesting to note that they weren’t dissuaded by Jesus choice of transportation, which is important.  For all of our talk about what first century Jewish people expected in their messiah, these folks were fans of Jesus who knew his message well.  Jesus’ choice fit the message he had been sharing his entire ministry.

The traditional idea is that people expected a truly triumphal entry, where the Messiah rides in on as with a  victory parade, riding in on a majestic, well-dressed Arabian.  But he didn’t.  Rather, he chose to ride into Jerusalem on humility personified.  Regular.  Humble.  Unpretentious.  Even lowly.  Reminds us of his storied beginning – born into poverty amongst farm animals in a cave-stable.

The message this communicated?  I come in humility.  In peace.  Non-threatening.  Nonviolent.  Non-aggressive.  Jesus’ Palm Sunday posture was peace.

Jesus’ entrance was the antithesis of power, aggression, dominance, and strength.

This was no Trojan donkey, either, as if it was just a rouse to get him in the gate in such a way as to fool the Roman authorities so that he could pull out his assault carpenter’s hammer once he made it safely inside.
His final week of life witnessed him challenging greed (power), challenging poor religious leadership (power), and emphasizing love and peace.  He told people to pay their taxes (even if his language was provocative).  He reminded people that loving God and loving others was the real point of faith.

When he had his famous last supper with his disciples, what did he do there?  He washed their feet – the act of a servant – modeling the posture of those who fully and passionately follow God.  He told them to think of the bread and cup in a new way – a symbol to remind them of not only what Jesus would soon do, but what they were to model: sacrifice for the redemption of the world.  He even told Peter of his forthcoming denial without condemnation, as if to say that “I know just how human you are, and I still love you.”

That same night they camped out at a friend’s garden – Gethsemane.  Jesus did not spend any time sharpening a sword or loading his nail gun.  He spent in on his knees in passionate prayer, because he knew that the orientation of the powerful is to squash whatever threat is perceived.  It broke his heart, and made him sweat through the sleepless night until he was arrested before dawn.  Jesus posture tells us about him, and teaches us how to model our own lives.

The next day went from bad to worse to horrific to death.  And through it all, Jesus maintained his posture of grace, forgiveness, peace, and love.  It’s as if that’s what he was really all about.  Which makes us wonder if that’s what we’re really all about.

We live entwined with the global Super Power that promotes peace, but has in her back pocket the world’s most powerful military.  Which message is louder?  Jesus could have gone that direction, but he didn’t.  He chose to represent God in humility, period.  As if that would work.  Which still does to this day.

So what’s you posture, Jesus follower?  Does your posture reflect Jesus’?  How have you sought forgiveness from God?  How have you sought forgiveness from others?  How have you forgiven others?  Who do you need to forgive?  Where in your life are you really wanting to bring out your weapons – whatever they may be – while Jesus is calling you to leave them behind and follow him?  How are you sowing and reaping redemption with your posture?