So, this Sunday is Palm Sunday. Because I have several things going on this week, and in honor of Palm Sunday, I’m digging back into the archives of my previous blog, theunexpectedds.com for a replay of one of the most read blogs from that site. This post originally appeared March 21, 2013. Eight years seems like a generation ago. I’ve made a few edits, but enjoy the repeat! đ
It really is dawning on me that I have to start preaching again every Sunday. Iâm preaching this Sunday, and Iâve returned again to the lectionary to begin preparations. It should be easy, shouldnât it? After all, itâs Palm Sunday. But, then againâŚitâs Palm Sunday. How does one remain fresh on a passage of Scripture that is preached every year at this same time. What is God saying to us this year that He hasnât said for over two thousand years? Yes, I feel the pain of all my sisters and brothers who are busy preparing for their Palm Sunday sermon.
I have often sought to title my sermon and have the title serve as the âbig ideaâ of the sermon. I try to let the Scripture guide me to the point of the message and then formulate a title around that point. Thatâs what Iâve been trying to do this week (while spending long hours in the Cabinet room dealing with appointments) and itâs a little more difficult because itâs Palm Sunday.
There is rich fodder in Luke 19:28-40. Jesusâ triumphal entry into Jerusalem for the final week of his earthly ministry is filled with imagery for good sermon titles, and points to make. Of course, there is the whole matter of expectations. The crowd had their expectations of Jesus. The disciples had their expectations of Jesus. The Pharisees had their expectations of Jesus. Jesus had his own expectations of what the week ahead was to be like, and he was the only one who knew what lay at the end of the week.
Imagine how our lives would be different if we expected that next week would be our last. I am reminded of what Steve Jobs said after he discovered he was dying with cancer: âRemembering that Iâll be dead soon is the most important tool Iâve ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everythingâall external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failureâthese things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important.â
Yeah. I could do something with that. I might title it âExpecting the Unexpectedâ or âWhat Did You Expect?â That could work.
I might make something out of the whole idea of Jesus as Messiah. After all, thatâs what this whole scene is about, isnât it? I mean donkeys and palm branches take us back to prophetic readings in Zechariah and the Psalms that deal with the Messiah. Jesus was making a great proclamation by choosing to enter Jerusalem this way. We could talk about that, and I could have a title like âA New Kind of King.â
Letâs seeâŚthereâs the issue of Jesus crying. How about âFrom Cheers to Tearsâ?
Or, Jesus talking to the Pharisees about the rocks crying out in praise. Maybe âThe First True Rock Starâ?
I think what I really like is the part about Jesus, his disciples and the donkey. Thatâs an interesting account. Jesus simply sends his disciples to get the colt. âGo over there and get it. Youâll know it when you see it.â And, the disciples go, and sure enough they find the donkey, and sure enough, the owners asks the disciples, âWhat are you doing with my ass?â I can imagine the disciplesâ response being, âThe Lord needs your ass.â
Well, now, thatâs a loaded question, and the response is equally as loaded. I can probably get a lot of mileage out of this point. Do we all have an ass Jesus can use? Not quite sure how the folks this Sunday would respond when they show up and the title of the sermon is printed across the bulletin âJesus Needs Your Ass.â I suspect it would be somewhat akin to the reaction of the Pharisees when Jesus came riding into town that day. Hm? Maybe Iâm on to something here.
This is a confusing scene for us who live in 21st century North America. Seriously, think of it this way. Two guys walk up to your garage, jump in your brand new Ford F-150, start it up and begin to drive away. You look at them and ask, âWhat are you doing with my truck?â One of the guys responds, âThe Lord needs it,â and you just look dumbfounded as they drive away. If youâre like me, Iâm calling the police to report a stolen vehicle. Not these owners on this day.
So why would they let the disciples take the donkey? Well, there might be this whole hospitality thing going on. Remember, itâs the beginning of the Passover week, and the city is teeming with activity. Travelers from all over the ancient world are making their way to Jerusalem. Hospitality was a big thing in 1st century eastern culture. To be known as inhospitable was one of the worst things you could be. To lend the donkey was seen simply as a way to help another.
Another reason may be pride on the part of the owners. Jesus was in town. I donât think there would have been too many folks in Bethany or Bethphage that would not have known who Jesus was. Remember again, that it was only a couple days earlier that Jesus was in town doing a little thing like raising a guy named Lazarus from the dead. Recall the scene from John 11âŚthere are a lot of people who witnessed that miracle, and word got around pretty fast. Jesus had made quite the name for himself in that little miracle. He was a famous rabbi now. There would have been honor in allowing a famous rabbi to ride my donkey.
Then again, some have suggested that Jesus had pre-arranged this scene. Perhaps the animal belonged to Mary, Martha and Lazarus, and Jesus had already made preparations with them for the disciples to come get the donkey. I donât believe this to be the case, otherwise, Luke, the historian, one who is intentional in giving us details, would have given us a clue that this was what had happened. Surely this was not simply some pre-arranged business deal on Jesusâ part.
Perhaps thereâs another reason. Perhaps the key is found in the use of the term âLord.â Perhaps the owners knew who Jesus was, and when the disciples referred to âThe Lord,â there was little doubt in the owners minds that Jesus was who he claimed to be. If Jesus needed something they had, to offer it to him would be an act of devotion and love. No, it became an act of worship.
Hereâs why I believe this is the case. Two significant pieces of evidence: One, no questions on the part of the owners. What questions would you and I ask?
- What are you doing with my donkey?
- Who is âthe Lord?â
- How far will you take him?
- Will you bring him back when youâre done?
Again, these are not details Luke is likely to omit. But he does.
The second significant piece of evidence Luke gives us is the telling of the story of the king and the ten servants immediately preceding this scene. Jesus tells the story of the nobleman who went away to be crowned king, but before he leaves he entrusts his silver to ten of his servants. Upon his return he calls the servants to give account of his silver. The first two return the kingâs silver with interest. The third, because he was afraid of the king, simply returned what had been given to him. The story is about stewardship.
Then, Luke gives a living example of the parableâŚa man with a donkey, offering what he has to the Jesus. It was an investment, and no small one at that. This was a valuable asset for the owners. Think about wealth in the 1stcenturyâŚoften measured by the ownership of livestock. The ass was referred to as a âbeast of burden,â meaning it was used to transport thingsâŚit was the 1st century equivalent of a moving van. But, the ass was used for various tasks around the family farm and so it was also the equivalent of the modern day tractor. And, then, like Jesus does in todayâs passage, people would use the ass as a means of transportationâŚthe equivalent of a car. A moving van, a tractor, a carâŚa very valuable animal indeed, and here, Jesus commands a brand new one, one that has never been ridden. This was no small request on Jesusâ part. This was a sacrificial gift.
The ass was a gift given to Jesus to help usher in the Kingdom. This was the dawning of the Kingdom. This unknown, unnamed person probably had little clue what he was involving himself in, but he knew Jesus, and he trusted Jesus, and he gave to JesusâŚand literally, he helped usher in the Kingdom. His gift changed the world.
What is Jesus asking for from us? What do we have to offer that will usher in the Kingdom? What resource is available to be utilized to literally carry Jesus down the road?
âSometimes I get the impression that God wants me to give him something and sometimes I donât give it because I donât know for sure, and then I feel bad because Iâve missed my chance. Other times I know he wants something but I donât give it because Iâm too selfish. And other times, too few times, I hear him and I obey him and feel honored that a gift of mine would be used to carry Jesus to another place. And still other times I wonder if my little deeds today will make a difference in the long haul.
Maybe you have those questions, too. All of us have a donkey. You and I each have something in our lives, which, if given back to God, could, like the donkey, move Jesus and his story further down the road. Maybe you can sing or hug or program a computer or speak Swahili or write a check.
Whichever, thatâs your donkey.
Whichever, your donkey belongs to him.
It really does belong to him. Your gifts are his and the donkey was his. The original wording of the instructions Jesus gave to his disciples is proof: “If anyone asks you why you are taking the donkeys, you are to say, âIts Lord is in need.â”
Max Lucado, And the Angels Were Silent, pg. 54
Our resources, our time, our money, our talents, our jobs, our families, our homesâŚour lives are gift from God for God. What has been entrusted to you for Jesus to use? What ass is Jesus asking for?
Nah! I probably wonât use that title. A bit too shocking. A bit too much to leave to the imagination. A bit too much to be misconstrued. Itâs a novel thought, though. Maybe itâs time we were a bit more shocking in our preaching. After all, it will be a shocking end to the week when Jesus rises from the grave.
My! My! My! The task of preaching on Palm Sunday and Holy Week. Whatâs a preacher to do? I suppose itâs time to live into the reality that Jesus needs my ass.
Until next time, keep looking upâŚ