| Matt 21:1-9 | 1st Sunday in Advent | Nov 30, 2008 |
Several years ago, we had an Easter program here at Zion, according to my records, almost six years. Some of our artistic members created props for it. One of those props was a cardboard cave painted very realistically, with a stone that rolled, to look just like the one that sealed Jesus' tomb. For the last several years, the cave has sat in storage, in the closet above the music room, gathering dust. And then about a month ago, the college students said they wanted to enter a float in the Parade of Lights, but wanted to do something different from a nativity scene. As they tossed out ideas, it was apparent they wanted to do something with the crucifixion and resurrection. The two dimensional cardboard cave was pulled out and saw the light of day once again. The students set up the cave, and then put a cross in front of it, and a manger in front of the cross. The message on the float was stunning. They were Jesus' words, "I have come that they may have life and have it to the full. Immediately after the parade, we broke down the float, and put the cave away again. The students decided they would like to do the same float again next year. Until then, there in it's own little cave, it would sit.
Only 3 days later, to my surprise, while leading Bible class last week, I saw the pieces of the cave being carried through the fellowship hall by ACT kids to be set up once again. It was going to be used as a prop for this year's Christmas program. Why? How were they going to use it? I thought about this and then looked at the script. Of course. The stable where Jesus was born probably wasn't the structure that looks like a picnic shelter that we usually picture it, but rather a cave.
When you will see it set up here on the 14th, many of you will recognize it, but the season will seem wrong. But is it? The swaddling cloths that wrapped Jesus, don't they remind us of the burial strips? The myrrh, one of the gifts of the magi, isn't that a burial spice? The cave where he is born, wouldn't that remind us of his burial tomb?
And so when we have the account of the Triumphal entry into Jerusalem, which took place on the first day of Holy Week, as a reading for the first Sunday of Advent, maybe it doesn't seem quite so strange. It shouldn't be. The Christmas season finds its meaning in the Lenten season. We understand what Christmas is about when we look at it through the cross, in light of Jesus' death.
Now, something deep down inside of us stirs. A little voice reacts. It doesn't like this statement about Christmas and Lent. The Christmas season should not be brought down by such thinking. Christmas is light-hearted; it is joyous and merry.
Our celebrations among our families and as people of our age are light-hearted and joyous and merry, and that is good. As we follow everyone around us, we are not sinning when we enjoy the festivities. Most things that are associated with Christmas are wholesome and therefore good that we celebrate.
But the church see it differently. When she celebrates it, she keeps in mind why her Lord has come. Just as He came into Jerusalem for the purpose of dying, we understand He comes into our world for the same purpose-to die. And this is what we find kind of offensive for a holiday which can be so much fun.
Yet this is what sets our tone for this day, the first Sunday of Advent and for the whole season. And the way He enters Jerusalem says so much. In fact, we can learn a lot about Jesus just from how He enters Jerusalem in our reading today. As we begin to grasp all He is and all He has done, we will see our response can never equal it. Our lives can never sufficiently show the gratitude He deserves for all He has done.
Let's look at it now. They say you can tell a lot about a person by what they drive. Sporty cars for fun loving people with a little money to burn. Luxury cars to tell the world, "I've made it." Compacts for economical people. Vans for families. And of course, a big, new pick-up for the farmer who just had a good year. So what does it tell you when you ride a donkey, and not just a donkey, but the colt of a donkey, with the mother riding in tow? What does it tell us? Well, I don't think it tells us Jesus was too lazy to walk.
He's walked all the way down from Galilee. Now, he just walks from a nearby town into Jerusalem. Does He need to ride anything at all?
No. He doesn't need it. We do. They did. A donkey is an animal of peace. It's not a war horse. We need to see this. We see a king, but a humble king. He doesn't ride a snorting horse, with his chest puffed out, full of medals, but a donkey, with his head down, plodding slowly through the streets of Jerusalem. He doesn't ride a war horse ready to head into battle to win His victory; He rides a donkey as though victory has already been won because it has. Again, He's riding, not into battle, but into victory in the greatest glory ever known to man, as He takes His throne upon a cross.
Riding that donkey must have sent an unmistakable message to those crowds gathered in Jerusalem for the Passover. They had seen other messiahs. All the other ones who claimed to be Messiah advocated violence, turning over the government, but this one rides a donkey, an animal of peace, but not just a donkey. He rides the colt of the donkey. Other Gospel writers tell us it had never been ridden before. This tells us, not only who He is, but what He has come to do.
I imagine donkeys aren't quite like horses when it comes to breaking them. I don't think you could fill rodeo stands with spectators waiting to see cowboys riding wild, bucking, donkeys, but this donkey Jesus rides is still an animal that has never had someone on its back. Even if a donkey doesn't buck like a horse, you probably wouldn't want to ride an unseasoned animal into a crowd, but this donkey knows this is the King of Peace. And here we see what Jesus has come to do. He has come to bring peace. He's not only the King of Peace, He brings peace. He brings peace in the animal kingdom--y'know wolf dwelling with the lamb, lion eating straw like the ox. This is what He has come to bring.
But peace in the animal kingdom means more. It means a whole lot more than just for animals. It's means a reversal from what we have come to think of normal. Wolves don't live with lambs. Lions don't eat straw; but they once did. They once did before sin. And they will again. What we think is natural is not, because what is natural to our way of thinking is affected by sin. But Jesus comes to break the curse of sin, and turn things back to the way they once were before sin. In that day young donkeys and even unbroken horses will willingly accept a man on their back.
And finally, we see He sits on not just a young donkey, but the donkey's mother is also there. She walks next to her child through the streets. And once again, we see the wonder of who Jesus is. The miracle of the incarnation, the birth to a normal human woman is demonstrated by these donkeys. Yes, keeping the mother with the young colt, will keep the colt calm, but in this mother and her colt, we see the mother, Mary and her child, Jesus. The child, Jesus, is not separated from His mother. Here we see Him as human. As we have confessed for ages, conceived by the Holy Spirit, that which we could not see; but born of the Virgin Mary, that is truly visible. God born of a woman. Jesus and His mother.
We are preparing for a tremendous miracle, God is about to become flesh for you and for me. The almighty God suffers Himself to become a man, to be born from the virgin womb of a sinful woman. God's greatest glory for sinners is about to begin, and it will be almost completely hidden. He will lie in a manger, the feeding trough for animals, animals like this donkey He rides-and He does this for us.
How can we stand in full posture and not bow our heads in amazement and awe that He does this? How can we even stand on our feet and not drop down to our knees when we think about this?
Martin Luther tells a story that was common in his day which says something about our reaction to this wonder. He speaks of a coarse and brutal lout. Even if you don't know what a lout is, you can guess, he's not seeking good things about this guy. While the words in the creed "And was made man" were being sung in church, he remained standing, neither genuflecting nor removing his hat. He showed no reverence, but just stood there like a clod. All the others dropped to their knees when the Nicene Creed was prayed and chanted devoutly. Then the devil stepped up to him and hit him so hard it made his head spin. He cursed him gruesomely and said: "May hell consume you, you boorish ass! If God had become an angel like me and the congregation sang: 'God was made an angel,' I would bend not only my knees but my whole body to the ground! Yes, I would crawl ten ells down into the ground. And you vile human creature, you stand there like a stick or a stone. You hear that God did not become an angel but a man like you, and you just stand there like a stick of wood!"
I don't tell you this story to make you feel like you have to bow your head at that point in the creed. It may help you to remember what He has done by getting your body involved, but you are not obligated to do this. I don't think the devil is going to come up behind you and viciously smack you in the back of the head if you don't.
But even if you do, we could never appreciate all He has done. The ropes that tied the donkeys, tie us also. Jesus comes to set us free from sin, but we can't understand the half of what He has done for us. We can follow patterns and gestures Christians have passed down to us, and they help, but our comprehension is still clouded by our miserable sin. We don't realize how badly we needed His rescue, therefore we don't realize how much He has done.
But we cannot change the fact that He has come. Nor would we want to. What is done is done. Our God has come to set His creation free. But it wasn't merely His coming.
How nice it would be, if it was just His coming that set us free. Then our celebrations at church could also be light-hearted, joyous and merry. God has come and simply shown us how to love. Jesus' death would be a tragic event, but not a crucial part of His reason for being. It would merely be a demonstration of how much we ought to love or even how much He loved us. His rising to life again would make up for the tragic death, and then we could feel better about what happened to Jesus.
But if that was all it was about, we would still be lost in our sin. We would still be tied up like the donkeys were before they were released. If Jesus didn't come for the sole purpose of dying for us, to pay our debt, our debt would still be held against us. We would not even be able to call our heavenly Father, "Father" because we wouldn't be able to approach Him.
But He has come, and came for the purpose of becoming flesh and then dying for our sins. He has come so we can approach our holy God, our heavenly Father. He comes so we can call Him "Father." He comes so that we may now also have a pledge of what He has done for us. Now He gives the very flesh and blood that rode on the donkey, the very flesh and blood that hung on the cross, five days later. He puts that flesh in little bread wafers that He gives us to eat. He puts the blood in wine that we drink from little cups and from a chalice. In these He gives us forgiveness. He gives us the very thing He had come to earth to bring.
That we have that forgiveness, is shown by the empty tomb. Here the Father has told us and the world, His coming has accomplished what we had promised. He has come that we might have life and have it abundantly. And now we have it. We have the assurance of our Father's love, and the promise of eternal life, especially after the resurrection from the dead.
In two weeks, when you see that stable which was like the place where Jesus was born, you will see a cave. You will see the place where Jesus was laid. You will see Him laid in a manger. But you will also see a tomb, another place where Jesus was laid. In that image, you will see why He has come. He has come to set you free.
AMEN