Scripture reading: Psalm 118:19-29.

Sermon text: Matthew 21:1-11.

So, now it…

Ends?

Begins?

I suppose it depends on your perspective of Jesus’ ministry.

In many ways, reading the Gospels dramatically points us to the inevitability of this week in Jerusalem, the final week of Jesus’ ministry. Pick a Gospel, any of the 4, and you’ll read of conflicts between Jesus and the Jewish leadership. You’ll read of theological battles, unfilled expectations of a Messiah, exposures of hypocrisy, and unexpected grace and forgiveness. You’ll read of threats against Jesus’ life. And, in the Gospel of St. John, you’ll read the words of the High Priest where he blatantly called for Jesus’ execution.

If anyone thought Jesus would cower in the Galilean countryside and avoid the confrontation, Palm Sunday came as a shock. Jesus didn’t merely show up for the Passover celebration in A.D. 33. If anything, His arrival in Jerusalem accelerated the climactic conclusion of the building conflict. Jesus didn’t walk into the holy city singing the hymns of the Pilgrim Psalms as did thousands of other participants in the week’s activities. Instead, Jesus, the divine Son of God who had already predicted His death, fulfilled another of the ancient prophecies of the Son of David: “Say to the daughter of Zion, ‘Behold, your king is coming to you, humble, and mounted on a donkey, and on a colt, the foal of a beast of burden.’” As St. Matthew reminds his readers, Jesus’ actions directly pointed to the prophecy of the prophet Zechariah had prophesied nearly 500 years before Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem.

The Jewish crowds clearly understood Jesus’ actions as the fulfillment of Zechariah’s prophecy. Their actions — making a path for Jesus with their cloaks and with tree branches — demonstrated their acknowledgement of Jesus’ authority. The crowd’s cries echoed through the streets of Jerusalem and rang out over the valleys below the city: “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!” These cries carried both expectation and longing into the air: Expectation that their Messiah had finally arrived, and longing that the Messiah would finally make all things right.

Lots of things needed correcting in that week in A.D. 33. Jesus would go into the Temple later that day and clean house in the very House of God. Ordinary worshipers had probably wondered when someone would do that very thing in the Temple. In today’s terms, the priests had transformed the Court of the Gentiles, the only place where the Gentiles could worship, into a Walmart that sold everything needed for worship: Animals for sacrifice, Temple coins for the tax, anything you could imagine. Imagine going to church today and having to navigate past a ton of bookstands, coffee bars, CD’s, DVD’s, and so forth to enter the Holy Place where you could finally commune with God in corporate worship. We don’t have that here at New Hope (and won’t as long as I’m here), but you’d be surprised at the number of places where worshipers in America today find themselves disturbingly close to the experience of the Jewish worshipers in Jerusalem in Jesus’ last week.

The Jews also needed someone to help them with the Romans. The Romans had arrived in 63 B.C. at the invitation of 2 warring brothers who both claimed the offices of High Priest and king. Both brothers had invited the Romans to settle the issue, but neither brother apparently understood that Roman rule, once invited into an area, settled in to stay. During the century since, the Romans had thoroughly subdued the Jews and incorporated their lands into the Roman Empire. The presence of Romans in Jerusalem brutally reminded the Jews of their oppression by the Gentiles, an oppression that began with the Assyrians over 800 years before and had never relented.

All this resentment at Temple corruption and Roman governance boiled over in Jesus’ triumphal procession into Jerusalem. “Hosanna!” The Greek word “hosanna” is a transliteration of the Hebrew phrase “hoshea na,” or “save us!” The Jews knew they needed saving. The Jews knew they needed delivering from the spiritual and political darkness that had enveloped their nation. The Jews knew that only God could save them, and now it seemed God had finally answered their prayers. Jesus, their Messiah, would put all things in order and make all things right.

So, the questions arise again. Did Jesus begin something that week? Or did the Romans, ignorantly colluding with the Jewish authorities, end all hope that Jesus would ever fill His role as deliverer of the people?

Living on the other side of the Resurrection gives us a privilege the Jews on that day couldn’t have. We know that the events of Palm Sunday would lead to a commandment of remembrance on Maundy Thursday, a crucifixion on Good Friday, and a conquest of death and sin on Easter Sunday.

However, lest we think that sin, now conquered, has given up and stopped fighting, we have only to look around and see that the defeated still retain the power to cause trouble. We look at our families today, and we realize that none of us here remain unaffected by the sins that beset our nation. We look at those around us on the jobs and in the schools and see people scarred by selfish decisions, humiliations inflicted by their pride and that of others. We don’t have to go far down the road to see the results of sin.

In some ways, the story of Palm Sunday carries more meaning for New Hope today. We see the youth of our area crying “Hosanna!” and we’ve followed God’s call to serve them. Today, we celebrate the beginning of our new youth ministry with the inclusion of our new youth minister and his family. For some here in our church and community, this ministry will serve as a beginning of new life, hopefully ending life as they know it. Much of what will end will not go down without a fight.

Looking at Jesus’ last week before His death may or may not provide much encouragement. As C.S. Lewis wrote, “It is clear from many of His sayings that Our Lord had long foreseen His death. He knew what conduct such as His, in a world such as we have made of this, much inevitably lead to” (C.S. Lewis, Letters to Malcolm: Chiefly on Prayer, p. 42). The events of Palm Sunday heralded an intensification of the conflict between Jesus and the powers of this world. At times, ministry more closely resembles the conflict of Jesus with the Jewish leadership than the joy we associate with the miracles.

However, the ministry must happen; lives hang in the balance. We’ll face the temptations to follow the trends, to do the popular activities, and to count success as the world counts it rather than as God counts it. Any ministry, regardless of its focus, will encounter conflict. Yet, the ministry needs doing. We must serve the youth of this area and then expand our ministries to their families. We must serve those most frequently in contact with our youth and encourage them in the fight. We must give examples of godly living and fight the temptation to descend into legalism, grading our youth by their abilities to live according to our standards rather than by grace.

I can tell you that ministry gets messy. If you’re looking for a safe and sterile life, don’t bother looking in ministry. As we draw youth to Christ through our ministry, we’ll have to meet them where they live now and bring them, by the love of Christ, to where He can transform them into believers. We’ll have to put up with youthful angst, desires, and occasional irritation as we guide them through this process. At times, someone will ask whether it’s worth it. The answer remains the same: Jesus died for them, so the least we can do is live for them and serve them.

I’m currently reading the book Bonhoeffer: Pastor, Martyr, Prophet, Spy  by Eric Metaxis. This biography of the German World War II martyr Dietrich Bonhoeffer contains some uncomfortable parallels between pre-War German society and the society in which many of us live today. As Bonhoeffer battled the Third Reich of Adolph Hitler and its attempt to co-opt the Evangelical Church in Germany, he delivered these words to a youth council in Denmark in 1934:

1. There is no way to peace along the way of safety. For peace must be dared, it is itself the great venture and can never be safe. Peace is the opposite of security. To demand guarantees is to want to protect oneself. Peace means giving oneself completely to God's commandment, wanting no security, but in faith and obedience laying the destiny of the nations in the hand of Almighty God, not trying to direct itself for selfish purposes. Battles are won, not with weapons, but with God. They are won when the way leads to the cross (Metaxis, p. 241).
   

God has called us to this ministry, and only by the way of the cross will we fulfill that calling. Jesus didn’t ride into Jerusalem looking for a safe exit out of town at the end of the week. People outside our walls are calling, “Hosanna!” “Save us!” We have no guarantees of safety or of peace outside the call of our Savior, the One who died and rose again to assure us of peace with God and the safety of His protection alone. If anyone thinks that God’s assurances of peace and safety apply to our earthly lives, look at the cross to see reality.

Instead, God calls us to meet those crying for salvation and deliverance. As we celebrate Holy Communion today, remember the word of Our Lord to His disciples in Matthew 28:19: “Go.” Go to those crying for salvation; go to those crying for deliverance from sin and its slavery. Bring them to the cross, where the Crucified Jesus can transform them from death to life, from rebel to saint.