Now at the festival the governor was accustomed to release a prisoner for the crowd, anyone whom they wanted. At that time they had a notorious prisoner, called Jesus Barabbas. So after they had gathered, Pilate said to them, “Whom do you want me to release for you, Jesus Barabbas or Jesus who is called the Messiah?” For he realized that it was out of jealousy that they had handed him over. While he was sitting on the judgment seat, his wife sent word to him, “Have nothing to do with that innocent man, for today I have suffered a great deal because of a dream about him.” Now the chief priests and the elders persuaded the crowds to ask for Barabbas and to have Jesus killed. The governor again said to them, “Which of the two do you want me to release for you?” And they said, “Barabbas.” Pilate said to them, “Then what should I do with Jesus who is called the Messiah?” All of them said, “Let him be crucified!” Then he asked, “Why, what evil has he done?” But they shouted all the more, “Let him be crucified!”
So when Pilate saw that he could do nothing, but rather that a riot was beginning, he took some water and washed his hands before the crowd, saying, “I am innocent of this man’s blood; see to it yourselves.” Then the people as a whole answered, “His blood be on us and on our children!” So he released Barabbas for them; and after flogging Jesus, he handed him over to be crucified.
Then the soldiers of the governor took Jesus into the governor’s headquarters, and they gathered the whole cohort around him. They stripped him and put a scarlet robe on him, and after twisting some thorns into a crown, they put it on his head. They put a reed in his right hand and knelt before him and mocked him, saying, “Hail, King of the Jews!” They spat on him, and took the reed and struck him on the head. After mocking him, they stripped him of the robe and put his own clothes on him. Then they led him away to crucify him.
As they went out, they came upon a man from Cyrene named Simon; they compelled this man to carry his cross. And when they came to a place called Golgotha (which means Place of a Skull), they offered him wine to drink, mixed with gall; but when he tasted it, he would not drink it. And when they had crucified him, they divided his clothes among themselves by casting lots; then they sat down there and kept watch over him. Over his head they put the charge against him, which read, “This is Jesus, the King of the Jews.”
Then two bandits were crucified with him, one on his right and one on his left. Those who passed by derided him, shaking their heads and saying, “You who would destroy the temple and build it in three days, save yourself! If you are the Son of God, come down from the cross.” In the same way the chief priests also, along with the scribes and elders, were mocking him, saying, “He saved others; he cannot save himself. He is the King of Israel; let him come down from the cross now, and we will believe in him. He trusts in God; let God deliver him now, if he wants to; for he said, ‘I am God’s Son.’” The bandits who were crucified with him also taunted him in the same way.
From noon on, darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon. And about three o’clock Jesus cried with a loud voice, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” that is, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” When some of the bystanders heard it, they said, “This man is calling for Elijah.” At once one of them ran and got a sponge, filled it with sour wine, put it on a stick, and gave it to him to drink. But the others said, “Wait, let us see whether Elijah will come to save him.” Then Jesus cried again with a loud voice and breathed his last. At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom. The earth shook, and the rocks were split. The tombs also were opened, and many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised. After his resurrection they came out of the tombs and entered the holy city and appeared to many. Now when the centurion and those with him, who were keeping watch over Jesus, saw the earthquake and what took place, they were terrified and said, “Truly this man was God’s Son!” Matthew 27:11-54 (NRSV)
I wonder what the disciples were thinking.
They’d been with Jesus for nearly three years, this man they called, “Rabbi.” He had called them to simply come and follow him. And, they had. Over these years, they had traveled with Jesus throughout the Galilean countryside and beyond--in all the places away from the powerful center of Jerusalem. Along the way, among a variety of characters, they had witnessed Jesus reveal more and more who he was. Characters that included Nicodemus, the Samaritan woman at the well, the blind man to whom Jesus had given sight, and Lazarus and his sisters and the never-before witnessed miracle in which Jesus had brought Lazarus back to life after having been dead for four full days.
I wonder what the disciples were thinking.
They had listened to Jesus tell them what it would mean to be his disciple. To “take up the cross.” How they were to engage in active nonviolent resistance when confronted with oppression and violence. How the integrity of what they said and did mattered. How they were to love others. Not just friends and families. But, also enemies.
They’d been sent out, too. Sent to participate in the same mission of Jesus--to proclaim the same message--that God’s kingdom was at hand. Jesus had given them authority,. The same God-given authority to preach and to heal and to forgive. They’d gone out. They’d gone out, knowing how hard this mission would be. That in speaking truth to power they would be oppressed and harassed. That suffering would be inevitable. That participating in Jesus’ mission meant taking up his cross.
I wonder what the disciples were thinking.
They had heard Jesus tell them that he would eventually die at the hands of the religious and the political elite. How they wouldn’t...how they couldn’t...how they didn’t want to believe him. How their thoughts had been expressed by Peter so forcefully when he challenged Jesus. Saying that, “No!” this wouldn’t happen. And watching Jesus shut him down. Oh, how distressed they had been.
They had also heard him say that he would be raised. Something they did not, could not understand.
I wonder what the disciples were thinking.
They had witnessed--had accompanied--Jesus riding into Jerusalem. On a donkey. As though he was mocking the Roman authorities. Making his entrance into Jerusalem in the midst of the Passover celebration. A Jerusalem that had swelled in size by several hundred thousand people. People who had come from the countryside to the temple to celebrate this holy festival. People who had heard of Jesus or who had heard him speak.
They had seen the crowds respond to Jesus as he entered triumphantly into the city. How the huge crowds had welcomed and had shouted their “Hosannas!” and other songs of acclaim. They had retrieved the donkey for Jesus with unexpected ease. They knew the ambivalence of his riding this donkey--that it was a royal animal that had carried previous representatives of God’s reign--King Solomon and others. And, yet, that it was an everyday beast of burden--a symbol of scorn. They saw the contradictions in the extravagant welcome of Jesus by the crowd while he was, at the same time, seated upon this lowly animal, the same animal that had carried his mother to Bethlehem to give birth to him in a stable, of all places.
I wonder what the disciples were thinking.
They had heard that the religious authorities were conspiring against Jesus. They had heard that one of their own was involved. How distressed they had been! And when Jesus told them they would all desert him that night--the night they celebrated the Passover together--they heard Peter boast that he would never abandon Jesus.
They had been there in the garden that night. In Gethsemane. How they had wanted to stay awake as Jesus asked them. How they had failed. And then, they had seen the soldiers come with Judas. One of their own had grabbed a sword, trying to violently resist, and had been quickly condemned by Jesus.
They had been there that night. And then, they had deserted Jesus and run. Just as he said they would.
I wonder what the disciples were thinking.
They had seen the week start out so well. They had seen the throngs greet Jesus as the Messiah, with the expectation that he had come to overthrow the Romans--their political captors. Jesus had been treated as the king they knew he was.
And, then, quickly. Within just a few short days, it had all dissolved into madness. The king they knew, the Messiah they thought had come to make a regime change, this Jesus, their teacher and friend, now arrested, convicted, and tortured. And, then, crucified. Like a common criminal. One of the cruelest means of execution, reserved for non-citizens and for the socially rejected. For rebellious foreigners, violent criminals, robbers, slaves--for all those on the margins. Jesus. Shamed and humiliated.
Chaos and confusion. I think this is what the disciples were thinking. And feeling. Their entire lives. Their entire way of thinking. Their entire world. Turned upside down. Dissolving into chaos and confusion.
Chaos and confusion. This was something Dietrich Bonhoeffer also knew about. It was on this day in 1945--on April 9th, 1945--that Bonhoeffer, a Lutheran theologian and pastor, was shot to death by a Nazi firing squad. He had studied theology in Germany and the United States and had pastored a church in London before choosing to return to Germany to resist the rise to power of Adolf Hitler. He was eventually arrested and, on this day 72 years ago, put to death.
Just like the disciples, Bonhoeffer knew about chaos and confusion. And, yet, he, like the disciples, knew that this was what discipleship was all about. In his book, The Cost of Discipleship, which he wrote in prison while awaiting his execution, Bonhoeffer wrote, “[God says this]: Discipleship is not limited to what you can comprehend - it must transcend all comprehension. Plunge into the deep waters beyond your own comprehension, and I will help you to comprehend even as I do. Bewilderment is the true comprehension. Not to know where you are going is the true knowledge. My comprehension transcends yours.”
It is in the midst of the chaos and confusion that God breaks in. In the chaos and confusion and brokenness of the world, into our own brokenness--it is there that God breaks in. In the chaos and confusion of a world where people do not have enough to eat or they lack decent healthcare, God breaks in. In the chaos and confusion of a world where it seems there is a mass shooting nearly every day, or terrorism is our first thought after any incident, God breaks in. Or even in the chaos and confusion of a world where a political leader uses nerve gas on his own people, a refugee people that nearly the entire world has rejected, God breaks in.
This is what we believe. This is what we trust. This is what we know because it is in the chaos and confusion of Jesus’ crucifixion and death that God broke in and raised him from the dead. And it is in the midst of our own chaos and confusion that God has broken in and has brought us new life. In Christ.
And that is why we shout, right along with the crowd that Palm Sunday, “Hosanna! Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest heaven!”
Amen.
Preached at Grace and Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
April 9, 2017 - Palm Sunday
Readings: Matthew 21:1-11, Isaiah 50:4-9a, Psalm 31:9-16, Philippians 2:5-11, Matthew 27:11-54
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