Sunday, April 1, 2012

Fooled ... at First


John 12:12-16
Palm Sunday 2012


                I’m being cautious this morning.  Very cautious.  I want to make extra sure everything that’s happening in this worship service is pretty much going as planned and expected.   On any Sunday and on any day of the week all sorts of variables can come into play and mix things up.   It’s not that I’m usually caught too off-guard by unplanned occurrences … it’s just that today I know to be even more alert to anything seemingly out of place.    After all, today is, as I’m sure you realize, not only Palm Sunday but it’s also … April Fools’ Day!
            My awareness of the need to be extra cautious today was raised higher this past week when a fellow Trustee of Camp Johnsonburg told me about something he was involved when he was younger at his home church.   It was a Sunday, it was a scheduled day for celebrating the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper, and it was April 1st.   Knowing a fairly rare opportunity was at hand, he and a friend began thinking about how leftover rolls from church dinners were kept in a freezer.    Can you guess where this is going?   
            The service started.    The moment to celebrate the sacrament arrived.   The pastor spoke words of institution, “On the night of his arrest, Jesus took the bread and …”    And as the pastor reached down to pick up the soft loaf of bread he expected to be sitting there, he instead took hold of a mostly frozen bit of baked dough.    As my friend tells it, there was quite a curious look on the pastor’s face as he struggled to break it!     Afterwards, the boys fessed up and said, “April Fools’!”    Fortunately, the pastor took this innocent enough church prank lightly, told them they’d gotten him good, and the story became one they all have shared in the years since.  
            Whether a person responds to an April Fools’ joke – and any prank on any day – in a positive or negative way is certainly determined in part by their personality.    For example, despite all my punning around and love of being a goofball a lot of the time, it mostly all gets set aside when it comes to being in worship and my solemn respect for sacramental ritual.   So I may well have been unable to take a chilled chunk of holy host very lightly!      
            I believe what this sort of fun, foolish business most comes down to in the end is how well each of our personalities can tolerate tweaks to our expectations.    As we enter into all our life experiences, we bring with us culturally conditioned expectations.  These come about as the result of our sense of self and the influence of our families, our social circles and the general culture in which we live.    So it’s surprising or shocking when we see, hear and have things unfold differently.     And depending on the circumstance and the degree of shock or surprise, we can find ourselves quite vulnerable to being left feeling embarrassed, foolish. 
            The way the Gospel of John bears witness to the very first Palm Sunday, it seems one group of folks that historic day were left feeling a bit fooled.    Expectations of Jesus were high amongst many faithful Jews as Jesus entered the gates of Jerusalem to fulfill his holy purpose on earth.   These expectations should have first and foremost been based on all the powerful teaching and healing those following Him had heard and witnessed.   But ironically enough, the ones who should have understood this the most – Jesus’ disciples, his closest friends – were apparently the folks whose expectations went bust.    One particular decision He made revealed something to them that was in high contrast to all the frenzied, faithful fanfare of those moments.    As the joyful, desperate cries of Hosanna were lifted up along with palm branches, as this petitioning for salvation and heralding of Jesus as royal king reached a tipping point, Jesus responded in a curious, seemingly foolish way.    He found and sat upon a small donkey. 
            By and large, the mass of Jewish faithful gathered there had not come to welcome this holy man with the awe-inspiring, populist, revolutionary reputation, entering the great sacred city settled on the simple back of a young, not very highly esteemed creature.    They had different hopes, bolder expectations.    Born from a long history of suffering oppression after oppression as a people, they expected Jesus to be astride a strong warhorse.   They expected Him to symbolically serve notice that a physical war with the occupying Roman Empire was imminent.   So what in heaven’s name was Jesus’ doing on itty bitty donkey back?   Was he pulling some kind of holy prank? 
            What kinds of expectations do you have of Jesus?   About His kind of power?  Are they ones that lead you to believe He will never disappoint, never be anyone or do anything other than what you want, what you desperately need and possibly demand him to be?  
            The disciples should have known.  They should have immediately understood why Jesus found a little donkey to carry him toward the coming crucifixion, to the awful climax of his holy incarnation.    They’d been journeying, listening, learning directly by his side.  They’d been participating in his peaceful, prayerful solidarity will all sorts of sin-suffering people – be they Jew or non-Jew, social outcasts, synagogue leaders, or slaves of Roman Centurions.     They should have known that this Nazarene was not about building up any epic human conflict.   He arrived that day in Jerusalem for the singular, sacred, soul purpose of building up eternal peace between God and all God’s children.    He arrived to inaugurate the definitive divine way of resolving all conflicts humans have with each other and with the Almighty.   The final days of his worldly walk were a bridge span to his humble self-sacrifice for the forgiveness of all the wounding, unjust, intricate webs of sin.
            By choosing to ride atop the back of a humble beast of burden, Jesus was not fooling but rather He was fulfilling.     He wasn’t trying to pull a fast one on the people, He was sending a loud, clear, precise signal about who His true identity as the long-awaited Messiah.    It’s not like he had a megaphone to speak this above the din of the massive, noisy gathering.    So He let his actions speak louder than any words as he quietly fulfilled the Old Testament prophecy from Zechariah 9:9 –“Rejoice greatly, O daughter Zion! Shout aloud, O daughter Jerusalem! Lo, your king comes to you; triumphant and victorious is he, humble and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.”     This king of kings arrived for Holy Week as the Prince of Peace.
            Again, though, even the disciples didn’t at first get that this was fulfillment instead of fooling around.   Scholar William Barclay explains it was likely that they, like so many on that day, had “minds full of mob hysteria” who “looked for the Messiah of their dreams and their own wishful thinking” instead of the “Messiah whom God had sent.”[i]   
            Does the Jesus you read about in the New Testament match up with the Messiah of your dreams?   How well do you understand and accept the breadth of salvation from sin the Son of God was born to teach us and to die for?
            The good news is that John does tell us the first disciples eventually came to fully understand.    But only after all of their betrayals, the subsequent bloody business of Good Friday and the miraculous Good News of Easter morning had occurred.     
            This account is all consistent with a key characteristic of John’s Gospel.   He boldly wrote irony into his particular witness to Jesus’ life, death and resurrection.    And he did it to dramatically communicate the “greatest irony of all … [that] the true king, the true Messiah, the great human being and Son of God, is a collapsed figure on a cross” whose “compassion and lowliness confront human image of power and success.”  Over and against worldly notions of powerful rule and victory, John’s irony tells that the One whom God raised from the dead was not a “splendid hero, a valiant warrior, but the lowly one who seemed less suitable as the focus of human hope and expectation.”[ii]
            Effective use of irony, like the effective use of an innocent April Fools’ Day joke, can make for a very memorable community building story.    It can add much needed perspective and help create positive, peaceful, redefining understandings.   So this Holy Week, I urge you to take time to significantly reflect on what your expectations of Jesus are.   If you find any of them enticed by sinful power plays or in any degree representing disregard for the lowliest, meekest people in our families, our neighborhoods, our state, our country, and our world … don’t be fooled!  Be sure to re-read the truth-defining irony in John 12 and join the journey of Jesus on itty bitty donkey back.    Amen.  




[i][i] Daily Bible Commentary Series, Gospel of John

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