The Meaning of Jesus: Why was Jesus killed? Palm Sunday, April 1, 2007- Rev. David Tinney Text: Luke 19:28-40; 45-48 Theme: Jesus was killed because the Kingdom Jesus came to establish still threatens the kingdoms of this world -- your kingdom and mine -- the kingdoms where greed, power, and lust rule instead of grace, mercy, and peace. Let me take you back 46 years ago to a time when many in our country thought a new age was breaking forth. The year was 1961. Many in this room will not remember that date because you were too young or not even born yet. Others might need a little jogging of the grey cells to remember why I chose this date. In 1961 Dwight David Eisenhower was bringing his presidency to a close and many felt it was none too soon. In January of that year a promising new light had been elected president and as he mounted the stairs of the Capitol to take his oath, the hopes of the nation mounted as well. His was a nearly royal inauguration, a nearly regal entrance into the city of power, and his speech that day captured the hearts of a nation waiting for a new direction. “Ask not what your country can do for you but what you can do for your country.” John F. Kennedy became our 35th president and in the early days and weeks of the year everything seemed to go well. He immediately put one of his dreams to law and created the Peace Corps and organization that to this day spreads humanitarian relief around the world. In the next few months astronauts Alan Shepherd and later Gus Grissom piloted Mercury Redstone rockets into space and the young president announced the beginning of the Apollo program and his goal of putting a man on the moon. Judy Garland made her comeback, Bob Dylan hitched across America to shape his music, Roger Maris of the New York Yankees hit his 61st home run breaking Babe Ruth’s record, and Barbie is introduced to Ken. But there were problems as well hidden among all the new victories. Kennedy was tested immediately by Fidel Castro and the Bay of Pigs; the Cold War began, the first concrete slabs of the Berlin Wall were erected, and the first troops were sent to Vietnam. Nationally the country was being ripped apart along racial lines and buses were being burned, churches bombed, and Black men and women beaten as they marched in the South. Far, far away from the seat of power in Washington D.C., in a remote pulpit in Alabama, a 32-year-old preacher made his quiet entrance. Perhaps quiet is too gentle and naïve an adjective. By 1961 he was already on the FBI’s radar and his activities were being monitored and his phones tapped. In that year as the racial problems in our country seemed to be reaching a boiling point, he stood in the pulpit of his church and preached a sermon that has been overlooked by many. The title was “The Transformed Nonconformist” and he spoke out against the institutions of the day, particularly the Church, and how they were no longer molding society in the image of God but were being molded by society. Listen to one of my favorite lines from Rev. Martin Luther King Jr’s sermon. “Do not conform is difficult advice in a generation when crowd pressures have unconsciously conditioned our minds and feet to move to the rhythmic drumbeat of the status quo. Many voices and forces urge us to choose the path of least resistance, and bid us never to fight for an unpopular cause and never to be found in a pathetic minority of two or three.1” He clearly saw what others could not, that there is a Christian imperative not to be conformed to the powers of this world – not to have our minds conditioned to our culture – not to have our footsteps march to the rhythmic beat of the status quo. We are called to be “people of conviction, not conformity; of moral nobility, not social respectability. We are commanded to live differently and according to a higher loyalty.2” King became an irritating voice in our country’s conscience that would not go away. He spoke out on civil rights, segregation, the war, poverty, the ethic of work and he chastised the Church for remaining silent behind their beautiful stained-glass windows. He called the Christians of the nation to “recapture nonconformity in the truest sense of the word and willingly act like Christ and sacrifice fame, fortune, and life itself in behalf of a cause they knew to be right3.” Every culture has a way of silencing the disturbing voices of its conscience. It kills them. John Dominic Crossan, a Christian scholar wrote, “Those who live by compassion are often canonized. Those who live by justice are often crucified.4” Now let me take you back even farther and this time I can guarantee there will be no one in the room to remember the events that took place. The year was 33AD - give or take a couple of years for historical adjustment. The place was Jerusalem, the seat of power for the authorities of the Jewish Temple and the regional headquarters for Roman power that was currently ruling over Israel and the neighboring Gentiles. It was the season of Passover, which as any good Jew would know was a time ripe with the promise of freedom and the long awaited return of the Messiah. Jerusalem was the termination point of thousands upon thousands of pilgrimages and some estimate the population in Jerusalem during the Passover would quadruple and there could be as many as 2.5 million Jews in one small space. The crowded conditions, the celebration of the Exodus, the resistance to oppression, and the politics of the day provided the perfect kindling for a religious and nationalistic wildfire. All that was needed was a spark. I learned this week that there were probably two parades entering Jerusalem that week. At the western gate the Roman governor Pontius Pilate made his entrance with all the pomp and power of the empire. He would have entered on a noble stallion or in a chariot with a squadron of powerfully clad cavalry as an escort. At the eastern gate there was another parade. This one was not as pompous and powerful, but certainly more provocative. It too represented the entrance of a leader – perhaps even the long awaited messiah. It seemed as if Jesus choreographed the entire parade paying attention to every detail from his point of entrance to the animal he rode. I am convinced he knew exactly what he was doing, what message he wanted to send, and what was waiting for him at the end of his journey. He began his journey in Bethphage which archeologists conclude was two miles east of Jerusalem at the foot of Mt. Olivet. This was a symbolic point because Old Testament prophets predicted when the messiah would come and Jerusalem would be rescued the journey would start on this hillside.5 As we have heard in nearly every Palm Sunday sermon, Jesus chose the donkey because it represented not only his humble kingship but also the symbolism of him riding an animal that had never been ridden before emphasized the legitimacy of his messianic identity through Jewish scripture and history. Even the disciples laying down their cloaks was a reenactment of the crowning of King Jehu, a leader who was anointed by one of Elijah’s prophets and would bring reform and freedom from King Ahab and Queen Jezebel. Every step he took was provocative and that is why the leaders of the Temple – the Pharisees, Sadducees, and the Temple authorities – came out to demand that he stop. But his parade was different from the political and power parade that was going on at the western gate and it was different from anything the people expected or wanted. His intentions were not those of the crowd. His ideas of freedom did not match those of the people who were waving palms and crying out “Hosanna save us.” He did not want to keep marching to the “rhythmic drumbeat of the status quo” he wanted transformation. He came to confront injustice and to bring his Kingdom into this world. Nothing shows that better than his first stop at the Temple where he overturns the tables of the moneychangers and curses them for their dishonesty. Luke says that from that moment the authorities knew Jesus had to die. He was a threat to the status quo, to the powers of this world, and they had to find a way to kill him. Why did Jesus have to die? First and foremost, I believe it was the fulfillment of his mission and vocation as savior. He came not just for the Jews in first century Palestine but for every person throughout history and each of us sitting in this room today. He came for every person still marching to the rhythmic drumbeat of the status quo who doesn’t know how to break ranks. He came to inaugurate a new kingdom and to march on Jerusalems wherever they might be to demand a new way of living – right here and now. Why did Jesus have to die? I believe that social prophets have a short lifespan. Society has a way of crucifying those annoying voices who keep reminding us to be merciful, just, and compassionate. Jesus made enemies with the powers of the Temple and confronted the injustice that was being done in the name of religion and he paid the price with his life. Before we get too critical of Jerusalem and the authorities in the Temple we need to ask ourselves the question: What city today would not be shaken by Jesus’ entry? For just a moment I would like you to imagine Jesus entering Washington DC, or New York City, or Seattle, or Bellevue. At first we would welcome him, wouldn’t we? At first we might strike up the band, get out the signs, line the streets and shout hosannas. At first… But when the parade was over and he started talking about issues of justice. When he would start messing with the status quo. When he would start making judgments about the way we spend our time, or our money, or the way we set our priorities. When he would start talking about our role as global citizens in a global world. When he would start talking about how we let injustice flourish around us and how we as the Church enjoy our time behind our stained-glass windows more than our time out on the street helping the homeless. By the end of the week we would probably find him an annoyance. By the end of the week perhaps we would shout “crucify him.” You see the Kingdom that Jesus came to establish still threatens the kingdoms of this world – the kingdoms where greed, power, and lust rule instead of grace, mercy, and peace. His kingdom still threatens the “rhythmic drumbeat of the status quo” that we obediently march to every day. Jesus knew that the end of his parade was the cross. If we are to follow that parade, if we are to surrender to his Lordship, if we are to join in his parade then we too need to know that the end is a cross. I go back to Martin Luther King Jr. for one more insight and one more quote. As his ministry went on King was under constant attack, both spiritually and physically. Towards the end of his days he wrote: “Even if they try to kill you, you develop the inner conviction that there are some things so precious, some things so eternally true that they are worth dying for. And if a person has not found something to die for, that person isn't fit to live!” What have you found in your life worth dying for? What have you found in your life that is so precious that it would change how you live and how you die? Where is the Jerusalem in your life? What are you willing to face in order to bring in the Kingdom of our Lord? I would like to end with a story ripped from recent headlines. October 2, 2006, was a dark day for the Amish community of Nickel Mines, Pennsylvania. That morning, a local milkman named Charles Carl Roberts barricaded himself inside the West Nickel Mine Amish School. He was armed with three guns, knives, and over 600 rounds of ammunition. When police attempted to intervene less than half an hour later, Roberts opened fire on 11 girls—all less than 14-years-old—killing 5. After these brutal acts, he turned his weapon on himself and committed suicide. It was a dark hour, but as more news became available in the days that followed, a new story began to emerge—one full of courage, faith, and love. According to two of the survivors, when 13-year-old Marie Fisher began to understand what Charles Carl Roberts intended to do, she made a request. "Shoot me first," she said, "and leave the other ones loose." As the oldest child in the group, she hoped that her death might somehow spare the other children or provide more time for their rescue. Immediately after this request, Marie's younger sister Barbie added one more. "Shoot me second," she said. News of the girls' bravery and sacrificial love impacted millions of people across the country after the story broke. But according to Rita Rhoads, a local midwife close to the family of the two girls, their faith also affected their attacker. "He asked them to pray for him," Rhoads said. "I think that's amazing. He recognized they had something he didn't."6 Each of us will face our own Jerusalems. There are a lot of ways into that city but the way to eternal truth, the way to justice, the way to find meaning and joy as well as sacrifice and suffering is to join our Lord and journey with him. 1 Martin Luther King Jr. “The Transformed Nonconformist” http://www.navpress.com/EPubs/PrinterFriendly/1/1.73.18.html 2 Ibid 3 Ibid 4 http://www.ctsastl.org/site/weblog.php?id=A2006101 5 Zechariah 14:4ff 6 David Slagle, Atlanta, Georgia; source: Mike Wereschagin, "'Shoot Me First,' Victim Said," Pittsburgh Tribune-Review (10-6-06) --------------- ------------------------------------------------------------ --------------- ------------------------------------------------------------ Sermon for Palm Sunday Page 1