When great crowds gather in city streets, it is either for a celebration or for a revolution. Throngs do not come together without a purpose; they come together either to celebrate a great occasion or to agitate for what they want. They come to see evidence of a world turned upside down.
In January huge crowds came here to Washington. They filled the Mall and they hugged the curbs of Pennsylvania Avenue. They massed on Capitol Hill and some spent dismal hours trapped in the Third Street tunnel. Every police officer who could breathe was with them in case of a disturbance or an accident. This crowd had come to celebrate a change that they could believe in. They had come to witness power turned over to a new administration. They had come to cheer a president whose very appearance signalled a new era, though the celebration came in the midst of insecurities and uncertainties. But the crowd wanted to see the world turned upside down.
By contrast, just this week, as that same president and his counterparts gathered in London for the G-20 summit, there was another crowd. A very different crowd. Angry, boisterous, breaking down bank windows, prepared to tear down the very structures of power. The London crowd was nothing like the Washington crowd. But they too expected change. They too wanted something different from what they had known in the past. They too think that it is time that someone turn the world upside down.
For when great crowds gather in city streets, it is either for a celebration or for a revolution. It is because some occasion is to be affirmed, or it is to agitate for something new. It is to see evidence of a world turned upside down.
Into Jerusalem one day came Jesus, the teacher from Galilee who had made them rethink the Law of Moses, the preacher of commandments new and yet old, the healer from that obscure little place called Nazareth – Jesus came riding into Jerusalem. And while He did not have an army of advance workers to plot out His route, nor could He rely on the Internet to summon His followers, nonetheless He had orchestrated this entrance. He had planned it all out. The word was around. The crowd knew where to go and what to do. Their expectations were high. Jesus was coming, and when He would come, the world would change. Let the world be turned upside down! Jesus is coming!
What a surprise when they saw Him riding into the city on a beast of burden! I wonder what they felt about one whom they hailed as their savior coming in such a strange way. What could it mean, the chosen one, riding on a colt, the foal of an ass? How many of them knew the obscure reference in the prophecy of Zechariah about the Messiah entering the city in such a way? How many of them wondered why there were no chariots, no trumpets blaring, no tramping soldiers? No armoured limousine, no Popemobile! Just Jesus, alone except for His little band of disciples, riding, riding, riding – into the city.
Still, they were a crowd. And they did what crowds do. Great crowds gather in city streets either for a celebration or for a revolution. Whether they come together to celebrate or to agitate, they come to express their hope that things will change. They want their world to be turned upside down. And so the crowd in Jerusalem screamed, “Hosanna” “Save us and help us.” “Blessed is He that comes in the name of the Lord.” Palm branches waving and robes spread out. Jesus, turn this world upside down.
Little did they know just how much Jesus would turn their world upside down. Little could they have understood that Jesus would change everything. Even though Rome would continue its cruel reign, the world of power was about to be turned upside down. Even though the Temple would continue its tradition-bound pattern of rituals, its collapse was coming. Jesus would undermine it by teaching that God desires not sacrifice but a broken and a contrite heart.
Yes, Jesus would turn the world upside down, politically, spiritually, a new way of life. A way of peace instead of conflict. A way of love instead of prejudice. A way of trust instead of suspicion. They could not have known, as Hosannas sprang from their throats, just how fully their expectations would be met. And the man on the donkey, that beast so incongruous for a king, was now on a collision course with the way things are. He would, in this coming week, turn the world upside down.
For during this week to come, Jesus would climb up to Mount Zion, to the great Temple, and would literally turn upside down the tables of the moneychangers. He would throw out the greedy and the callous who exploited the poor, and would cry out a word of welcome, “My house shall be a house of prayer for all the nations.” The old way of excluding was turned upside down.
And during this week to come, Jesus would encounter the privileged and the powerful, who would challenge Him, “By what authority are you doing these things?” Jesus refused to play their power game, and left these who lived off the fat of the land and the tithes of the people groping for a way to hang on to their influence. The old way of spiritual arrogance was turned upside down.
Moreover, during this week to come, Jesus would take on the ultra-left, the revolutionaries, the Pharisees, who wanted to get Him to make a political statement against Caesar. “Is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor, or not?” But Jesus astounded them by making them face the consequences of irresponsibility. The old way of pretense politics, easy ideas tossed about with no concern for the consequences – that was turned upside down.
And then, right on time, during this same week, Jesus would take on the ultra-right, the dilettante Sadducees, who toyed with vapid ideas and played little word-games with the truth. “Teacher, what about this, what about that?” And Jesus flogged them with their own words, accusing them of knowing neither the word of God nor its power. The old way of polite scepticism – this way He turned upside down.
What a week it would be! A week of upending everything. A week of upending the scribes for their fondness for being noticed as pious and scholarly. A week of upending the wealthy for their showy gifts, altogether unlike the widow with her two sacrificial coins. And even a week of alarming, shocking language about tearing down the Temple and rebuilding it in three days. The Temple, the house of God, torn down? That would indeed turn their world upside down. But then to rebuild it in three days? Jesus even turns common sense upside down.
And just when you think there is nothing left to turn upside down, He scolds His friends for diminishing a woman’s extravagant gift of ointment. Just when they thought they knew what He would want He turns even that upside down. Small wonder that Judas decides to betray Him. Small wonder, I say; for we cannot stand so much change. We cannot deal with so much revolution. What the crowd in the streets had called for came into being during that week; and it was not easy to take it in. Judas is not that strange; Judas is every one of us who just cannot deal with a world turned upside down.
So now toward the end of the week: a room, a table, a meal. It is the day of unleavened bread, time to observe Passover. Would Jesus turn this custom upside down as well? What would He do with the Seder meal of Passover?
[Go to the Table]
At the table they gathered. On it the items needed for the Seder. A time-honored and hallowed tradition. To do Passover as the fathers had done would be a comfort. At least this one thing would not have been turned upside down. At least this one thing would be the same.
On the table they found MAROR, bitter herbs. A sprig of green and a bowl of salt water. When anyone dips this herb into the salt water and tastes the MAROR, what does he taste?
Deacon: THE BITTER HERBS TELL ME THAT WE WERE AN ENSLAVED PEOPLE, LIVING UNDER BITTER OPPRESSION.
Yes, the bitterness of slavery in Egypt. But Jesus will turn this symbol upside down, for He will speak of enslavement to sin. It is not Egypt you are to fear, but sin. “Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; rather fear him who can destroy both soul and body in hell”. It is not about enslavement of the body alone, but about enslavement of the soul. A world turned upside down.
And then on the table also the CHAROSET. A sweet pebbly preparation of walnuts, apples, and honey. It represents the mortar the slaves used to build walls for Pharaoh. A memory of life in Egypt, where, though there was slavery, there was also a measure of security and plenty. Things held together. When anyone tastes the CHAROSET, what does he taste?
Deacon: THIS TASTE TELLS ME THAT WE FIND SWEETNESS IN THE VERY THINGS THAT BIND US.
Yes, we are bound together in our common dilemmas. We are bound together in worldwide recession. We are bound together in global challenges. We are bound together in warfare. And the truth is that we love these things too much. We love being competitive. We love thinking of ourselves as “right” and labeling others as “wrong”. But Jesus will turn this symbol upside down, for He will speak of being bound together in community. He will speak of coming together, time and again, around such a table as this. He will turn upside down a world that thinks that the ties that bind are ties of competition and conflict, and will instead speak to us of a world bound with love. “No greater love has anyone than this, that he lay down his life for his friends. And I have called you friends.”
And more, on this table the KARPAS. A vegetable soaked in salt; a living thing laden with a great deal of salt. If someone eats the KARPAS, he is startled by its salty taste; what does that mean?
Deacon: THIS SALT TELLS ME THAT OUR PEOPLE WEPT MANY TEARS IN THE WILDERNESS.
Yes, tears there were and tears there will be, for we are traveling a difficult path. “Stony the road we trod, bitter the chastening rod felt in the days when hope unborn had died.” We are in the wilderness, even we here today. Our wilderness is one of wandering in moral uncertainty. Our wilderness is one of wandering in spiritual insecurity. Our wilderness is one of wandering in broken relationships and emotional abuse. And Jesus, for us and for our salvation, will turn this symbol of tears in the wilderness upside down as well. For He will speak of pain and sorrow, but not ours. His. His. “I, if I be lifted up, will draw all men to myself.” It was a cross of which He spoke; and it would be the oasis in the weary land where we may find rest from our wanderings. His would be the bitter tears, not ours. His would be the suffering, not ours. His would be the death we should have died. Tears in the wilderness; His, not ours. The world turned upside down.
And so, today, we gather at this Table, the crowd that gathers for Jesus. “Hosanna, save us and help us.” We have celebrated His coming. But crowds gather for celebration or for revolution. And we have found out something about this Jesus. We have found out that He is about revolution far more than He is about celebration. He is about turning the world upside down. He is turning bitterness into repentance. He is turning suspicion into community. Most astonishing of all, He is turning guilt and shame into redemption by His cross. What next? What more may we expect from this world-turning-upside-down Jesus?
All deacons: WHY IS THIS TABLE DIFFERENT FROM ALL OTHER TABLES?
This table is different from all other tables, for at all other tables there is bread, either the bread of plenty – lush, tasty, aromatic bread we suppose ourselves to have earned; or the bread of want – the scrap, the crust, that will leave us hungering. All other tables have bread that feeds the body, whether amply or slightly. All other tables are about bread for us.
But at His Table the world is turned upside down. And this bread, MATZOH, the unleavened bread is the bread of urgency. Unleavened, for God was about to act to save His people. Now this bread, this MATZOH, at this Table: God is acting. God is on the move. In this week of weeks, God will act. And though we expect Him to come with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm to rescue His people from their afflictions, He will again turn the world upside down. When He comes, He will do something we scarcely can imagine: He will climb upon a Cross and let His body be broken for us.
And so, as all of you taste this, the sign of His broken body, remember that He comes to turn the world upside down. “For not with swords loud clashing, nor roll of stirring drums, with deeds of love and mercy the heavenly Kingdom comes.”
Deacons, distribution of the bread; seated when finished.
This table is different from all other tables, for at all other tables there is refreshment. At some tables the rich wine of a well-tended vineyard, exotic and robust, making glad the hearts of those who sip it. At other tables, the tables of the poor, simple water, cool and clear, the gift of mountains and rivers, water to restore the weary to life. All other tables have refreshing drink on them; but at His Table there is ZEROA, wine prepared for sacrifice upon the altar of God. This wine was meant for the Holy of Holies, where lambs were slaughtered and the first fruits of the flock were offered to God in a sweet-smelling savor. Oh, but in this week of weeks, there will indeed be a sacrifice. Once, perfect, holy, and forever. How our Christ does turn the world upside down! Sacrifices offered TO God now become God Himself offering sacrifice, that the world may know how much it costs to forgive and to reconcile.
Let ZEROA flow: “He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: and we hid as it were our faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not. Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all.” ZEROA, the wine of sacrifice.
Deacons distribute the cups; seated when finished
When great crowds gather in city streets, it is either for a celebration or for a revolution. Throngs do not come without a purpose; they come together either to celebrate a great occasion or to agitate for what they want. They come to see evidence of a world turned upside down.
This week of weeks, betrayal would come, and then the promised cross. Three days later a morning unlike any other the world had ever seen. From its birthplace in Jerusalem God’s world-changing ways would spread. To Cyprus, Phoenicia, and Syria. To the cities – Antioch, Perga, Iconium, Lystra, Derbe, Troas, Philippi, on and on, this world-changing good news. And then Thessalonica, where it became too much to handle. In Thessalonica a crowd gathered. In this town a throng assembled
Remember: when crowds gather in city streets it is about either celebration or revolution. It is about affirmation or protest. The crowd in Jerusalem had celebrated, “Hosanna, save us and help us.” This crowd in Thessalonica protested with complaint, “These people who have been turning the world upside down have come here also.” Indeed they had. Indeed we have.
For when Jesus enters the city, it will never be the same again. And when Jesus enters you and me, we will never be the same again. For those of us who have been to this Table, our world is turned upside down. And we become world-changers too. Our city will never be the same. Nor our households, nor our hearts. Our world is turned upside down. And we are His instruments to turn it over.
Ride on, King Jesus; ride on. Turn us upside down. No man can hinder Thee.
