It must have been quite a scene as Jesus rode into Jerusalem. First, he is not riding a warrior’s horse, he is riding on the colt of a donkey. His head is bobbing as the colt takes its awkward steps. And all around is a motley crowd. Former prostitutes, shouting children, people who had been lepers who were now cleansed, people who were once blind who now could see, people who at one time had running sores and untouchable diseases, tax collectors, foreigners — all touched by Jesus. The Bible says, “The whole crowd of disciples began joyfully to praise God in loud voices for all the miracles they had seen” (Luke 19:37). The Pharisees were all about determining who was and who was not approved by God. They worked harder at keeping people away from God than they did bringing them to God. They had set up temple worship so that you could hardly be a part of it. Many could not afford to worship and offer an animal to sacrifice on the altar under this system. Since people from up north in Galilee could not bring an animal, walking all the way over the rugged terrain up to Jerusalem, they had to buy an animal there. They also had to buy wood for the sacrifice and oil. Their standard Greek and Roman currency had to be converted into temple currency before anyone could buy anything, and often there was extortion involved in the exchange. At the same time, a temple tax was also charged. The whole thing had become a terrible distortion of what temple worship was supposed to be. As Jesus came into the temple area, he threw all the merchants and money changers out. He overthrew the tables and scattered the animals. It was one of those things where everyone thought it was wrong, but they all felt powerless to change things. They also lacked the courage to do anything, but Jesus did not lack courage.
All of this is very interesting, because it is the opposite of what we might expect. We would expect Jesus to be on the side of the religious system and its leaders, and you would expect that they would likewise be on the side of Jesus. But, actually, it is quite to the contrary. Jesus seems to be repulsed by the religious, and strangely attracted to the sinners and unacceptable people of society. He drinks and eats with tax collectors so that he is called a drunk and glutton. Women with bad reputations caress his feet, washing them with their tears and drying them with their hair. They anoint his head with expensive perfume. He touches people with leprosy and terrible diseases, things that most people would not get within a hundred yards of. And Jesus has accumulated a strange mix of people in his disciples. There are zealots who want to fight the Romans with terrorism, and whatever other tactics and force are required. On the other hand, you have tax collectors who have collaborated with the Romans. And because of this, and issues like who was the greatest, there seems to be constant conflict among the disciples. How patient our Lord must have been — how open his heart.
There are so many things we could talk about today, but the first point I would like to make is: Jesus’ arms are open as an act of invitation. I see Palm Sunday as one grand act of invitation. Jesus is riding into Jerusalem inviting, not forcing, them to receive him as King — only not the kind of king they wanted. His arms are open wide. The invitation is for them to lay down their political ideas of what the kingdom of God means, and take up his teaching of what the kingdom actually means. This is not an invitation to take over Rome, so that Israel can be free; this is an invitation into new life in the kingdom of God here and now, while Rome is in control politically. This is not just an invitation to be healed, delivered or forgiven, it is an invitation to kingdom living that transforms the world. But would they understand this? Would there be as much enthusiasm for the kingdom of God as there would be for a political kingdom of this world and the national interests of Israel?
Jesus’ invitation was for everyone to come and recognize the King of this new kingdom. I don’t want to call it merely a spiritual kingdom, because it was very much of this world. It was not about floating spirits sitting on clouds, it was about real people standing on real earth living out the principles of this new way of life. This was an invitation to the religious and non-religious. It was for saint and sinner alike. It was not just a life of sin that Jesus was asking people to leave, although that was certainly a part of it, it was an invitation to leave their directionless and self-absorbed lives of confusion and ambiguity. It was more than an invitation to be saved from personal sin, it was an invitation to leave a life of futility and stupidity and enter into the God-life he was offering. It was an invitation to leave a life of dysfunction and have a life that worked, because it was a life lived God’s way. It was an invitation to leave a religion mixed with politics and national interests to enter the kingdom of God for its own sake.
I like the way Brian McLaren puts it in his book The Story We Find Ourselves In. He says, “For prostitutes, the call of Jesus was to leave their story of men who pay money for love, and to enter the story of God, who in love pays for us with his own life. For Pharisees, it was to leave their story of religiosity and superiority and rigidity and judgmentalism, their story that was exclusively focused on their own narrow little sect, and instead to enter God’s broader and deeper and better story of grace and compassion and mercy and love for all people. For Zealots like Simon, it was to leave the political story of violence, to stop slitting Romans throats, as if that would bring the story to its desired end, and instead to enter God’s spiritual story of peace for all people, to risk persecution for justice and to prefer suffering over causing others to suffer. For tax collectors like Zacchaeus or Matthew, it was to stop collaborating with the Roman Empire, and profiting in the process, and instead to collaborate with the kingdom of God, and sacrifice in the process. For the rich — like that young ruler Jesus met — it was to abandon the hollow story of acquisition, and instead to enter God’s better story of generosity. For farmers and shepherds, it was to realize that there’s more to life than just planting seeds of wheat or tending flocks of sheep; instead, Jesus invited them to enter into the bigger story of planing seeds of truth and seeking lost men and women, every one of whom is loved and counted and missed by God. For fishermen like Peter and Andrew and James and John, it was to trade in the story of catching fish for a bigger story of fishing for men and women, inviting them into God’s story of ongoing creation and redemption. For the middle class, who want nothing more than to create a little social aquarium for their family. . . . it’s a call to care about the families of their neighbors too, especially the poor, to see them as family too, as children of Adam and children of God.”
I might add that Jesus invites the atheist to leave their story of a gray world where God does not exist, and enter a beautiful, new, colorful world where God is the cause of everything that exists. He invites the humanist, whose story is all about depending on himself to discover meaning and ultimate reality in the material world, to enter the story of God where God’s greater purpose is bigger than any one person or group of people — a meaning and purpose which God has built into the universe. He invites nominal church people to leave a life where God only occupies one hour a week, with a passing prayer thrown in here and there for good measure, to enter fully into his life and teaching, on a moment by moment basis. Instead of inviting God to be a part of your life, accept his invitation to fully be a part of his — to move beyond thinking we need God’s help to realizing how much we need God himself. He invites us to move beyond a list of rules and right doctrine to a life of ongoing relationship with himself. He invites you to experience the indwelling presence of his Holy Spirit. He invites you to understand that he did not die just to bring you to heaven, but to bring heaven to earth through you.
And that leads to the second point, which is: Jesus gives an open invitation to a life of fruitfulness. Jesus’ openness to us is not an invitation without cost. It is not just an invitation into God’s love, although it certainly is that, it is an invitation into God’s kingdom where there is work to be done. Being a kingdom person means accepting kingdom responsibilities. What strikes me about the context of Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem that we are celebrating today is that it is sandwiched between two great parables. Luke tells us that as he was heading toward Jerusalem, he told the parable of the ten minas. We are told that the reason for telling the parable was, “because he was near Jerusalem and the people thought that the kingdom of God was going to appear at once” (Luke 19:11). Minas were a currency that was about the equivalent of three months wages. The parable begins with the words: “A man of noble birth went to a distant country to have himself appointed king and then to return” (Luke 19:12). Jesus is talking about himself. He was telling them that he was going away for a period of time, but it would result in him being appointed King of all the earth and return to it. But before he left, he would give money to his servants which they were to put to work until he returned. He gave each servant a mina. One servant multiplied it to ten minas, the next multiplied it to five, but the last one hid his mina in a piece of cloth and hid it. The master was angry and took the man’s mina and gave it to the one who had ten. The parable ends with the words, “I tell you that to everyone who has, more will be given, but as for the one who has nothing, even what he has will be taken away” (Luke 19:26). Jesus expects us to be fruitful. His invitation is an invitation to have our lives count.
The other parable is told by Jesus after his triumphal ride and entrance into Jerusalem, as he enters the temple area and the religious leaders question him about his authority. He tells about a man who owns a vineyard. He owns the property and plants the vineyard. He then entrusts the vineyard to those who are supposed to work the vineyard, and then goes away for a long time. The tenants are able to keep part of the crop for themselves in return for their work, and he, as the owner, is to receive part of the crop as his fair share. The owner does not want it all. He gives them time for the vines to grow and mature, and then at harvest time he sends a servant to collect his share of the crop. But they beat and mistreat the servant. He sent another and another, but they too were beaten and treated shamefully. Finally, the owner of the vineyard says, “What shall I do? I will send my son, whom I love; perhaps they will respect him.” Jesus said, “But when the tenants saw him, they talked the matter over. ‘This is the heir,’ they said. ‘Let’s kill him, and the inheritance will be ours.’ So they threw him out of the vineyard and killed him” (Luke 20:13-15). The tenants did not want to give the owner of the vineyard his share. They wanted to keep it all for themselves, so they killed the owner’s son. They wanted to pretend there was no owner.
Obviously, Jesus is referring to God as the owner of the vineyard. It is God’s world. The human race, as tenants of God’s world, have been given much, and only part is asked to be returned to the owner. The owner of the vineyard is willing to share the profit with them. They are allowed to keep much of the crop, but they do not want a part of it, they want it all. They beat the owner’s servants who are sent to them. These servants represent the prophets who were persecuted for their message. The owner has been amazingly patient with them after their mistreatment of his servants. Again, the Bible says, “Then the owner of the vineyard said, ‘What shall I do? I will send my son, whom I love; perhaps they will respect him’” (Luke 20:13). The verse shows that both the owner and his son understand that there is a possibility that the son will be rejected, but still the father is willing to send the son, and the son is willing to go. But the tenants are even willing to kill the heir, which is Christ, in order that they can have the world to themselves and pretend God does not exist. They think it will destroy any proof of ownership and no one will be able to claim it or take it from them. In this parable the tenants are productive, but they keep all the benefits of their productiveness for themselves.
When Jesus rode into Jerusalem, he was the Son coming to collect what was due the owner of the vineyard. His heart was open to all, but there were expectations as well — the expectation that the servants would be fruitful and that the owner would receive what was his. But they proved faithless and decided that they wanted it all. They beat and killed the prophets, and now, in order to have it all, they would kill the Son of the owner. The invitation was extended, but the invitation was rejected.
Two books about the life of John Lennon, one of the Beatles, have come out. One by Robert Rosen is titled Nowhere Man: The Final Days of John Lennon, and another is Lennon in America by Geoffrey Giuliano. Both talk about the famous singer’s conversion to Christ on Palm Sunday. He began watching Billy Graham on televison, and then as he watched a television special on the life of Jesus he broke down in tears. His spiritual passion lasted for a several months. Rosen writes, “One day [Lennon] had an epiphany — he allowed himself to be touched by the love of Jesus Christ, and it drove him to tears of joy and ecstasy.” He says, “He drew a picture of a crucifix; he was born again, and the experience was such a kick that he had to share it with Yoko.” In the weeks that followed, he attended church services and took his son, Sean, to a Christian theater performance. Giuliano states that “He prayed for forgiveness when he stepped on insects or snapped at the maid.” But his wife, Yoko Ono, was not happy with Lennon’s change. Her first husband, Anthony Cox, became a Christian in the 1970’s. Lennon began to challenge his wife’s interest in the occult, and expressed disappointment when she wouldn’t join him in watching when Billy Graham was on television. Giuliano writes. “She feared John’s new faith would clash with her own ideas about spiritualism and threaten her iron hold over him.” In the end, it appeared that Ono won. In his final years, the man best known for his lines “Imagine there’s no heaven / It’s easy if you try” was living a life dictated by astrologers, numerologists, clairvoyants, psychics, herbalists, and tarot-card readers.
No one but God knows the final end of John Lennon. Jesus’ heart was surely open to him. Perhaps he initially accepted and ultimately rejected the invitation, or he may have even reconsidered in the end. Let’s hope it was so, for rejecting the offer of life, from the author of life, is the most serious error we can make. The most tragic words in the Bible are, “He was in the world, and though the world was made through him, the world did not recognize him. He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him” (John 1:10-11). The good news is, “Yet to all who received him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God” (John 1:12). No matter what anyone else does, you can receive him and enter into his life on this Palm Sunday. You can become a child of God. God’s heart is open to you.
Rodney J. Buchanan
April 1, 2012
Amity United Methodist Church
rodbuchanan2000@yahoo.com