Prince of Peace

Sermon for Sunday, April 5, 2009: Palm Sunday
Scripture: Mark 11:1-11

As many of you know, today is a very special day. It is a day of celebration, of triumphal entry, of the beginnings of a wonderful story waiting to be told. Today, people are lining the streets, trying to catch a glimpse of all the excitement. Packed crowds have gathered, and here is the moment we’ve spent all winter waiting for. Yes, my friends, today is finally here. Today is the first day of baseball season.

For most teams, Opening Day is tomorrow. But officially, the season begins tonight with the game between the Braves and Phillies. And what a joyous celebration it will be. Oh, how I have waited for this moment. I can’t wait to see what will happen this year. Will the Phillies repeat as World Series champs? Will Albert Pujols win the triple crown? Will the Yankees, with their massive payroll, still miss the playoffs? Will the Pirates end their current streak of 16 consecutive losing seasons? I can’t wait to see how the story of the 2009 Major League Baseball season unfolds.

In a lot of ways, Palm Sunday is like Opening Day. Both days are times of celebration, of crowds gathering for a festival, of anticipating and predicting what will soon come. And we know there will be ups and downs this season, just as we know there will be ups and downs during this week which we call Holy Week. Of course, the difference is that in regards to our faith, we know who will triumph in the end. We know there will be a celebration of resurrection on Easter Sunday. And we know how we’ll get there.

But these crowds lining the streets and waving branches were not so sure what would happen. They expected Jesus to usher in God’s kingdom here on earth, but they didn’t really know how it would happen – or even if it would happen at all. Quite possibly, they expected it to happen just like it did back in the days of King David. David’s kingdom is established by God, and that kingdom expands by military triumph which God hands over to David’s army. Now, a new king has come, the king of kings, who will usurp the authorities in Jerusalem and restore the kingdom of their ancestor David. That is why they line the streets with cloaks and branches – a new king is coming. “Victory is within our grasp,” they must be thinking to themselves. Jesus will be like a new David – sending in the troops, establishing his presence with authority, setting things straight. And everything will be wonderful. Everything will be grand. We will be saved from the authorities, from the corrupt politicians, from the evils surrounding us. “Hosanna!” they shout. “HOSANNA!” The meaning of “Hosanna” is “save now.”

“Save now!” they shout. “Save us now, Jesus! SAVE US! NOW!” These are cries of people longing for salvation, cries of people in despair. These are the cries of people who are searching for something to put their trust in, people searching for a sign of hope. It’s much like the cries of long-suffering fans of a perpetually lousy baseball team. And Jesus’ entry is, finally, the sign of hope they need. Jesus’ presence alone is hope enough, for he says nothing as he rides, silently, his stoicism a stark contrast to all the fanfare surrounding him.

As the baseball season begins, everyone’s looking for hope. Hope springs eternal, they say. That is what’s so great about the start of a new season: everyone has reason to hope. The New York Yankees are placing their hope in recent free agent acquisitions. The Florida Marlins are placing their hope in a slew of young players. And, well, if you’re a Pirates fan, you’re still searching for things to put your hope in – a solid outfield maybe? Rejuvenated pitching? Great prospects named McCutcheon and Alvarez who are yet to come?

And with the current economic situation, we have fewer reasons for hope and optimism. Many people are no longer able to find hope in job security. Others have lost all the hope they placed in the stock market. Still others are without the hope-filled mortgaged house they once lived in.
Where do we turn for hope when there seems to be no hope? To who or what are we crying out for salvation? To where are our cries of “Hosanna” directed? Can we turn towards politicians for hope? Or our jobs? Or our favorite sports teams? Or rock stars? Our best friends? Where do we turn for hope? Where is the hope?

Our lives are filled with the desperate cries of “Hosanna.” For “Hosanna” is not just a word we shout in jubilation. Hosanna is a word of groaning. It is a word we cry in times of desolation, chaos, and uncertainty. It’s not a word to shout in acclamation, but a word to shout in groaning and wailing. “Hosanna! We are in need of saving! Hosanna! We need salvation now! Hosanna! We need some hope in our hopeless situation!”

Unlike even the greatest employment, unlike even the safest investment opportunity, and even unlike the biggest free agent signing, we cannot place complete hope in earthly things. No, the only sure thing in this world is the salvation offered through the events which we’ll celebrate at the end of this week. The only sure thing is our salvation found in Jesus Christ, Son of God and Son of Man. The only place where we can have complete hope, without any chance of failure, is in Jesus Christ our Lord.

Jesus has entered the holy city of Jerusalem. He is a few short days away from dining with his disciples in the upper room, a few days away from arrest, trial, sentencing, whipping, and the gruesome capital punishment of crucifixion. Jesus is marching toward his death, and even though others around him may not know it, he is fully aware of this reality. Perhaps this is why he is silent, riding on a small colt that’s probably making his feet drag on the ground. If the crowds knew he would die this week, they would probably not be crying “Hosanna.” The crowds expect a military takeover, a triumph of force. They expect a revolution underfoot, a renegade leader coming to stick it to the man! But military takeover is not what they will get. Instead, they will get a beaten, bloody, tortured, dead savior. They will get a Messiah who looks anything but, a victor caught in the midst of strife.

As the Gospel of Mark tells us, Jesus rides in on a colt. In those days a colt was what princes would ride into town if they meant to bring peace. It seems as though the crowds and the disciples are oblivious to the symbolism of Jesus’ ride. Rather than the pimped out ride of a king, a noble, majestic steed, Jesus rides in on a colt, symbolizing the Prince of Peace that he is.
“Hosanna!” the crowds cry. “Save us now! Bring us a victory!” And as the story unfolds this week, we will find that he does in fact save us. He does in fact triumph. But it is not the triumph of a military king. Rather, it is the triumph of a prince of peace. The crowds are longing for a victory. It is desperation much like the desperation Pirate fans feel. “Save us now!” we cry. “Save us from the infamy of 17 straight losing seasons! Bring us something to hope for! Restore our joy! Bring us the victory we are starving for!”

“Save us, Jesus! We’re caught up in one of the losing streaks of life! We’re down on our luck, our nest egg is depleted, our vacations have been cancelled. Evil presses in all around us!”
A wise man once cried for salvation through poetry. He said:

There must be some kinda way outta here, said the joker to the thief.
There’s too much confusion, I can’t get no relief.
Businessmen they drink my wine, plow men dig my earth.
None will level on the line, nobody of its worth.
No reason to get excited, the thief he kindly spoke.
There are many here among us, who feel that life is but a joke.
But you and I we’ve been through that, and this is not our fate.
So let us not talk falsely now, the hour’s getting late.

Jesus has entered the holy city of Jerusalem. And the hour is getting late. Jesus marches toward his own suffering and death, which the crowds do not expect. They expect a revolution that will overthrow the powers that be and save the people from the misery, suffering, and despair they find themselves in. A revolution they expect, and a revolution they will receive. The revolution is here, but this is a revolution of non-violent resistance. This is a revolution led by the Prince of Peace, riding through the crowds on a humble colt, leaving the world in much the same way that he came: powerless, humble, unassuming, without any of the pomp and circumstance deserving of a king.

Jesus rides to his death. But we know how things work out in the end. We know that while the Prince of Peace is a few days from death, he is also just a few days away from resurrection, the victory over death we will celebrate one week from today. This will not be an easy journey this week, and at times it will seem further from hope and promise and victory than we can imagine. But in the midst of despair, Jesus will answer the groaning of this generation. In the midst of persecution, Jesus will answer the desperate cries of “Hosanna.” In the midst of suffering and death, Jesus will bring us new life. “Hosanna!” we cry. “Save now!” And saving is what will now occur. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.