Today the city is jammed with people who have come to demonstrate. They have a point of view, and they intend to speak their minds. It may be crowded, it may be inconvenient, it may disrupt business; but the issues are too important. The demonstrators will speak their minds, they will march for the cause in which they believe. If some have trouble with that, well, free speech is our right. If officials want to hide behind closed doors, so be it. The demonstrators will shout and march and parade until somebody hears them. Political institutions have to listen. The financiers have to respond. There are people hurting out there. Someone has to care. Never mind that it will crowd the city. Never mind that it is a security problem. This demonstration is going to happen.
Jerusalem, Passover, nearly two thousand years ago. Washington, Palm Sunday, today. The issues change, the moods swing, the players come and go. But one thing holds true – whenever someone stands to announce a wide-open invitation, there is trouble. Whenever someone offers a place at the table for everybody, those who are already at the table and who indeed think it is their table get uncomfortable. Jerusalem, Passover; Washington, Palm Sunday. Jerusalem, the invitation to come from east and west and north and south; Washington, hunger in India and sickness in Africa. The demonstration is about room for everyone at the table. Listen to what Jesus announced that day in Jerusalem:
Then people will come from east and west, from north and south, and will eat in the kingdom of God. Indeed, some are last who will be first, and some are first who will be last.
A wide-open invitation. Come on, whoever you are, and feast in the kingdom of God. It is no accident that when Jesus proclaimed a welcome for everyone, things got tense. It is not hard to figure out why, when Jesus began to speak about everyone coming, they began to murmur about killing. Not hard to figure out at all, because entrenched privilege always acts that way. Power and privilege, once established, always feel threatened at the notion of others sharing in the goodies.
So are you surprised that after Jesus had told the powers that be in Jerusalem that many will come from all quarters and will be welcomed at the banquet table – are you surprised at this reaction?
At that very hour some Pharisees came and said to him, "Get away from here, for Herod wants to kill you."
“At that very hour.” It didn’t take long for the powers that be to assert their privileges. It didn’t take long for Herod to intimidate. It didn’t take long for death threats to show up. “At that very hour …” These guys were really threatened! “Get away from here.”
Some of you are old enough to remember those old Western movies, the ones in which there is clearly a good guy and a bad guy. I spent many a Saturday afternoon at the old Uptown movie house in Louisville, where for only a quarter I could get just about as much moral teaching as I would get the next morning in Sunday School. And the thing about those Western movies was, you didn’t have to waste any energy figuring out who was who. The good guy wore a white hat and stood tall, riding majestically into town on his sleek horse, accompanied by his faithful, politically incorrect, Indian sidekick. On the other hand, the bad guy wore a black hat and crouched low, drinking at the bar or cowering in a banker’s cage, accompanied by rough-looking scoundrels who said things like, “Yeah, boss, let’s get ‘em.” You knew that when the good guy rode into town, it was to do battle with the bad guy, whether the bad guy be an outlaw, a stingy banker, or a corrupt sheriff. And you also knew that sooner or later, good guy and bad guy would confront each other on the town’s main street, arms poised over pistols, eyes blazing, hearts pumping – and one or the other would say, “This town ain’t big enough for you and me.” Showdown time, something had to give. “This town ain’t big enough for you and me.”
I
And it is true that no town is big enough for both Jesus and the powers of evil. It is true that neither Jerusalem at Passover nor Washington on Palm Sunday can comfortably contain both the authority of the prince of peace and, at the same time, the forces that destroy life. It is true that, “This town ain’t big enough” for both King Jesus and for those who care little for human welfare. Never must we forget that in that last week of Jesus’ life, Jesus was killed by an unholy trinity of naked power, callous exploitation, and narrow-minded religion. Force, finances, and foolish faith did Him in. Humanly speaking, Jesus met His death because Rome wanted to keep its power; the money-changers saw their profits cut down; and the custodians of the Temple had long since forgotten everything about God’s love. Jesus, humanly speaking, was slaughtered because military muscle, financial finagling, and religious rowdyism teamed up against Him. “This town ain’t big enough” for both King Jesus and the exploiters. It wasn’t then and it isn’t now. They moved to get rid of Him.
Jerusalem at Passover, Washington at Palm Sunday. This town ain’t big enough for both King Jesus and for those who are out to endanger His children. When they operate group homes for the mentally ill in squalor and in filth, but accept fat contracts from the city, this town ain’t big enough for that and for the one who cast out demons from the possessed. When pimps sell women on the street like cheap trophies, this town ain’t big enough for that and for the one who lifted Mary Magdalene. When arms dealers sell and sell and make more money, no matter who their products kill, I tell you, this town ain’t big enough for that and for the one who spoke of God’s care even for the tiny sparrow. This town ain’t big enough for injustice, intolerance, inhumanity, and for King Jesus. One of them has got to go. The battle lines are drawn.
God’s people cannot sit idly by while children are abused, while social services languish, and while families struggle against systems that seem not to care. This town ain’t big enough for both King Jesus and idle ignorance. Jerusalem at Passover, Washington on Palm Sunday. Surely the day has come for Christians to be involved in matters of justice. It is one thing to proclaim that this earth is not our home and that we are trying to get to heaven, by and by. It is another thing to ignore the heartcries of people and walk away. We can’t do that, not if we’re Jesus’ people. We can’t do that because this town ain’t big enough for both King Jesus and injustice. The battle lines must be drawn.
II
And yet let me also tell you of something else. Let me tell you of the wideness in God’s mercy, like the wideness of the sea. Let me tell you where there is room, let me speak of a town which is big enough. For the Lord Jesus issued an invitation and sounded a summons. Hear it again:
Then people will come from east and west, from north and south, and will eat in the kingdom of God. Indeed, some are last who will be first, and some are first who will be last.
That wide-open invitation. But then, after they warned Jesus to get out of town before the showdown, because King Herod was after His scalp, He said to them, "Go and tell that fox -- Jesus wasn’t very diplomatic, was he? Calling the king a sly old fox … you can get into trouble for that –
Go and tell that fox for me, ’Listen, I am casting out demons and performing cures today and tomorrow, and on the third day I finish my work. Yet today, tomorrow, and the next day I must be on my way, because it is impossible for a prophet to be killed outside of Jerusalem.’
Jesus told King Herod and his minions, “Look, I’m going to do what I was sent to do. I’m going to do what the Father put me here to do. I’m going to cast out demons, I’m going to heal, and then I’m going to do something you’ve never seen before. I am going to die. I am going to carry with me the sins, the burdens, the guilt, and the shame of this city, and I am going to Calvary with all of it. I am going to die.”
I’ll bet you’ve never seen a Western movie like that! I’ll bet you never saw “white hat” deliberately sacrifice himself. “This town ain’t big enough for me and for all its evil,” and so Jesus said, “I’ll take the evil out with me. I’ll die for every man and every woman and for their sin. I’ll spread my arms upon a cross so that no one has to die. No one who believes, no one who receives me has to die.”
This town ain’t big enough for King Jesus and for evil. But because He died, there is plenty good room in the Father’s Kingdom for you and for me, if in repentance we turn to Him.
You may be in the simple-minded crowd, shouting “Hosanna” because you hope for something better, but you don’t know what. There is room for you, if you will acknowledge that He is lord, not just when the times are good, but also when things get rough. The town is big enough for you.
You may be a rough brute, a tough guy, who hides his pain under a macho exterior. But down deep you hurt and you know it. Because Jesus died, there is plenty good room for you. You don’t have to play games any more. You can be what God made you to be. This town is big enough for King Jesus and for you, if you’ll lay aside all that control stuff and let Him rule.
You may be a pompous Pontius Pilate, puffed up with your federal job, your important title, your success. But deep down you’re insecure; in your heart of hearts you are deathly afraid of losing it all, and you know it. I have news for you! Because Jesus died, there is plenty good room for you. You don’t have to maintain a façade. You can be open, and you can be free. This town, this Kingdom, is big enough for King Jesus and for you, if you’ll just cry out, “Lord, be merciful to me, a sinner.”
And you may even be a good guy, a white hat, standing up for your version of truth, justice, and the American way, but you know your motives are not clean. You know your heart is full of anxiety and of terrible shame. You may be a churchgoer, a pew warmer, a Bible-thumping, tithe-giving, arm-waving fanatical Christian. But you know it’s all a show … it’s all a show because you are so terribly afraid to let anyone know who you really are. I have good news for you. I have great news. Because Jesus died, there is plenty good room for you too. You see, it’s all about grace. It’s ALL about grace. It’s not about what you’ve done or haven’t done. It’s not about white hats or black hats. It’s not about conventional goodness or celebrated badness. It’s about grace. It’s about what Jesus Christ has done for you and not about what you have done or have not done. It’s about grace.
And all you have to do is come on in. Come on in. This town, this Kingdom, is big enough. It’s big enough for all who want to be free. Whosoever will may come.
Ride on, King Jesus, ride on. Not on a majestic steed, but on a humble donkey. Not with six-shooters blazing, but with a cross waiting. Ride on, King Jesus, ride on. No man can-a hinder Thee. This town is big enough for amazing grace, to abound. Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
