"Who Is This? ”

A Sermon Preached by
The Rev. Jean Niven Lenk

“When he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil, asking, ‘Who is this?’”

On that first Palm Sunday, Jesus’ presence sets Jerusalem in turmoil. It is not the first time in the gospel of Matthew that he has thrown the city into chaos.

When Jesus was born, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, asking “Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews?” When King Herod heard this, Matthew [2:1b-4] tells us that “he was frightened and all Jerusalem with him.”

Thirty years later, in the morning’s Gospel call, Jesus rides into Jerusalem. Who is this, who causes such upheaval?

The crowds think they know. They are ready for a conquering hero. They have had hundreds of years of heartache, hardship, and hard times at the hands of the Assyrians and Babylonians. Jerusalem is now controlled by the Roman conquerors who have brought with them oppressive taxes, brutal sentences, and quick, sure retribution to any and all who dare defy them. And they are ready for a king to deliver them from their oppression.

Five hundred years earlier, the prophet Zechariah foretold a day when things would change. “Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion! Shout aloud, O daughter of Jerusalem! Lo, your king comes to you; triumphant and victorious is he, humble and riding on a donkey” [9:9]. Those words of promise have been indelibly etched in the hearts and minds of a glory-starved nation, and now, half a millennium later, they think they know who this is riding into town – no one less than King David’s successor who will assume the throne and bring justice, righteousness, salvation and peace, not just to Jerusalem, but to all nations. And so crowds line the streets and cheer wildly, receiving Jesus like a conquering king and shouting “Hosanna to the Son of David, the promised one.”

But is that who this is?

The people long for a kingdom; but Jesus proclaims that his kingdom is not of this world.

The people yearn for him to crush their enemies; but he proclaims, “love your enemies and bless those who persecute you.”

When generals arrive as military heroes, they come on horses. But Jesus enters the Holy City not as a powerful conqueror galloping in on a steed, but as the Prince of Peace, riding on a lowly donkey.

His weapons are not about mass destruction, but about love and reconciliation.

Who is this Jesus?

He tells us himself. He says, “I am the Light of the World” who illumines the shadowed places of our lives with hope and love.

He tells us, "I am the Bread of Life” who satisfies our hungry hearts.

He tells us, “I am the Good Shepherd” who has compassion on us and sacrifices himself for his flock.

He tells us, "I am the Vine,” and we are the branches, forever intertwined with him through his holy and redeeming love.

He tells us, “I am the resurrection and the life,” and he offers us new life now and life everlasting.

Who is this?

He is the one who fills our emptiness, reaches out in compassion, and abides in us, offering healing, and wholeness. And today he rides into Jerusalem on a donkey to a hero’s welcome. But he has said that Jerusalem will be the place of his rejection and death, and all the hosannas and all the palm branches can’t hide the fact that his triumphal entry turns out to be not a parade for a king, but a death march for the Son of God.

As the week unfolds, his preaching will become more pointed, his words and actions more radical. Jesus will overturn the tables of the moneychangers in the Temple, threatening the powers that be, and his actions will unite the religious and business leaders against him. He will make the temple a house of prayer for all people; he will proclaim God’s acceptance and life-changing love to the blind and lame; and he will welcome the tax collectors and prostitutes into God's reign ahead of the priests, scribes and Pharisees. Jesus will fail to live up to the expectations of the crowd and, in response, it will turn on him. Slowly at first, and then with increasing rapidity, the cheers will turn to jeers.

Who is this Jesus?

On that first Palm Sunday, many in the crowd answer: “He is a prophet from Nazareth of Galilee.”

The unbelieving authorities — the Sadducees, Pharisees, and scribes — say he is a glutton, a blasphemer, and holy law breaker who heals on the Sabbath and eats with sinners.

Earlier in Matthew [16:16], the disciple Peter has proclaimed him “the Messiah, the Son of the Living God.” But later this week, he will deny he even knows Jesus.

At his trial, questions about his identity cost Jesus his life. “Are you the Messiah, the Son of God?” the chief priests will ask, seeking to catch him in blasphemy.

Jesus will stand silent amid trumped-up charges, first before the council and then Pilate, as he is mocked and beaten. The Roman soldiers will strip him, put a crown of thorns upon his head, and mock him as “King of the Jews.”

He could have turned from his path of radical obedience to God’s will. Right until the end he could have avoided suffering and death. Having been abandoned by his followers, he could have abandoned us; having fought the good fight and labored long and tirelessly to bring a prodigal people back to God, who could blame him for calling it quits on those who had quit on him? And yet, Jesus chooses to endure it all so that we might know the full height and breadth of God’s love for us, a God who would stoop to take on our common lot and endure what it means to be human -- right through to the end, a God who would model for us radical obedience and self-giving love.

This is why today is both Palm Sunday and Passion Sunday, because we can’t go directly from this to next Sunday’s celebrations without experiencing Good Friday. And so, in case you can’t join us during this coming Holy Week at our Maundy Thursday and Good Friday observances, you are experiencing them, to some degree, this morning. That is why, even though our worship began with such celebratory hymns as “All Glory Laud, Honor,” and “Hosanna, Loud Hosanna,” the mood of this service changed at “A Time for All” and the telling of the passion story. That is why our hymns for the second half of this hour concentrate on Jesus’ suffering – “O Sacred Head, Now Wounded” and “When I Survey the Wondrous Cross.” And that is why, instead of singing a benediction response, we will leave this place to the somber and haunting trumpet call of “Were You There.”

Who is this whom we celebrate today but will mourn as this week unfolds?

Matthew tells us, at the beginning of his gospel, when the angel of the Lord whispers to Joseph in a dream, “You shall name him Emmanuel, which means God with us.” Jesus is God with us, with us in the broken places and desperate parts of our lives. Jesus is God with us, and he rides into all our Jerusalems, into our pain, our yearning, our brokenness, into the very heart of suffering, offering us something beyond – hope, meaning, and new life.

That is the journey to the cross. And that is the promise of Easter. Amen.