A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, others cut branches from trees and spread them on the road. The crowds that went ahead of him and that followed were shouting, “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of eth Lord!”… When he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil, asking, “Who is this?” Matthew 21: 8-11

“Who is this?” were among the first words of the service today re-enacting the crowds welcoming Jesus on the first Palm Sunday.

“Who is this?” they said as the man on the donkey rode into a riled up Jerusalem? Who is this man with the strange entourage of followers – women and men, common women and men, children, tax collectors, blue collar people, prostitutes, peasants, and assorted strays?

“Who is this?” is the question of this schizophrenic Sunday when “Hosannas!” turn to “Crucify him!” and triumphant entry ends days later in a state execution.

“Who is this?” As the days of the week named “Holy” pass we’ll hear more about the man on the donkey.

Centuries of tradition have taught us Jesus died for our sins in a sacrificial payment we could never make on our own. At times it sounds like God had it all planned out and Jesus had no choice but to follow the script.

Was it so neatly scripted? Some wonder aloud. Is Jesus just a blood atonement like a lamb sacrificed to cover some penalty rightly yours and mine? Or might there be something more? Might his death be an act of violence brought about by threatened human beings from the religious, political or community status quo; a death died because Jesus remained faithful to the deepest God-truth he knew, expressed in his words and behavior, which eventually show all twisted relationships incompatible with God’s shalom?

“Who is this?” If the reading of Jesus’ passion just heard is not easy to hear or understand, or if the old explanations about Jesus death on the cross create more questions than answers, I don’t think that’s a bad thing. Or unfaithful for that matter. I think it means some of our old certitudes and doctrines may have pinned Jesus down too securely. And again today, we are vexed by the man on the donkey and what happened to him.

Theologian Deitrich Bonhoeffer says he met God and Jesus in a new way when he was in a Nazi prison. “God allows himself to be edged out of the world and on to a cross…and in that way, God can be with us and help us…Only a suffering God can help.”

“Who is this?” We ask the question not only through decade old quotes and ancient scriptures but as though for the first time. We are not the same people we were even a year ago. Jesus enters a different city, a different country, a different world, a different life and circumstances. Only a suffering God can help. Jesus comes riding into the broken and hurting places of our lives and world. Jesus goes there knowing trouble was sure to come because he lived his life in the heart of God.

It was not the life the world expected. Jesus words and actions were often as threatening and challenging as they were life-giving. So it wasn’t surprising the whole city was in turmoil, asking “Who is this?” Some followed him into the city because he brought them out of despair into hope. Others were scared to death at the rumors preceding him into the city, rumors of what he had been teaching the people who joined his odd parade.

“Blessed are the meek for they shall inherit the earth.” Wait a minute, that’s crazy. We know it’s the mighty and powerful who will inherit the earth.

“You have heard it said, ‘You shall love your enemy and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, ‘Love your enemies pray for those who persecute you.’” What sort of madness is that in a world full of terrorists?

“Do not worry about your life, what you will eat and what you will drink. Consider the lilies… and the sparrow…” C’mon. Really, who can live that way?

“For what will it profit you to gain the whole world and lose your life?” You call that any kind of way to boost a slumping economy?

“Whoever wishes to be great among you must become a servant…” There’s no way a person will ever get ahead like that.

Living this God-shaped life, Jesus was bound for conflict at least and some kind of suffering at most. He talked of it along the way, telling his confused disciples more than once he was headed for Jerusalem, arrest and death. Yet he still rode into the city, drawn there by the heart of God.

And he comes riding still.

I have read where, in the early days of digging through the wreckage from the fallen towers once the World Trade Center, pieces of the towers fell to the ground in such a way that they made a cross. Riveted together, charred beams with equal outstretched arms. No one knew who organized it, but crane operators lifted the cross so that it would sit upright in the rubble. Some saw a sign of blessing. Some saw it as more happenstance and superstition than anything else. Perhaps for anyone Christian or not, it was a way of marking holy ground.

We are on holy ground today whenever we read the passion story of Jesus. We hear again about a cross – the sign we need in the broken places of our lives and the world’s life to. Only a suffering God can help.

Jesus came riding into the heart of suffering and was crucified on a garbage heap outside Jerusalem’s walls. In more recent days, the cross finds itself implanted in the place of other ruins – yours, mine, ours, the worlds. Here is the message: The God we meet in Jesus Christ is never a spectator standing at a distance. From Christmas we have long since put away for another year, the same Matthew who points to the cross told us that even before Jesus was born, the angel whispered to Joseph in a dream: “You shall call his name Immanuel, which means God with us.”

The God we meet in Jesus Christ is never a spectator standing at a distance.

Who is this? This is Immanuel, God with us. It is none other than God-with-us in broken places. God-with-us in spaces filled with fear. God-with-us in the very heart of suffering. God-with-us through no-matter-what. The promise from his birth remains to the very end. God-with-us.

Look, there on another hillside, Jesus, Immanuel, turns to his disciples and to us, wherever we are today: “Remember,” he says, I am with you always, even to the end of the age.” Even now.

Jesus. Ride into our church today. Ride into our city today. Ride into hearts hurting, broken and afraid. Come into the midst where we are and assure us you will be God-with-us.

Amen.

Rev. Alfred T. Day, III
Historic St. George's United Methodist Church
March 16, 2008