He Rode On

John 12: 12-19, page 106
The next day the great crowd that had come to the festival heard that Jesus was coming to Jerusalem. So they took branches of palm trees and went out to meet him, shouting,
“Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord – the King of Israel!”
Jesus found a young donkey and sat on it; as it is written:
“Do not be afraid, daughter of Zion. Look, your king is coming, sitting on a donkey’s colt!”
His disciples did not understand these things at first; but when Jesus was glorified, then they remembered that these things had been written of him and had been done to him. So the crowd that had been with him when he called Lazarus out of the tomb and raised him from the dead continued to testify.
It was also because they heard that he had performed this sign that the crowd went to meet him.
The Pharisees then said to one another, “You see, you can do nothing. Look, the world has gone after him!”
Sermon
Sometimes it’s good to keep in mind how things are probably going to turn out.
I think it was Albert Einstein who gave us a good, working definition of insanity: “insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting different results.”
The insane, then, on Mule Day, might be those who are, year after year, surprised that they have a difficult time traveling from one side of Columbia to the other. You saw these people yesterday: “What are all these mules doing here? Oh yeah. That’s today.”
The insane continue eating at McDonalds five times a week and wonder why they keep gaining weight.
And the insane, according to Albert Einstein, will keep on procrastinating and refusing to study and will be surprised by their failing grades.
Wisdom on the other hand, tells us to change our behavior. To keep in mind how things are probably going to turn out, and to change our behavior in order to avoid it.
But then, to some people, knowing how things are probably going to turn out doesn’t inspire any change in behavior, because what you or I might want to avoid, they have resigned themselves to.
I worked for a lawn maintenance company the year in between college and seminary. This was also the first year of our marriage, so while this job wasn’t the best, I was desperate. Being desperate isn’t a good quality to have when you are looking for work, and so I worked with other desperate people who would do just about anything for $7.00 an hour: illegal immigrants, high school drop outs, convicted felons, etc.
I was assigned to Lee’s truck, and Lee was a different kind of a guy.
He went to the Citadel, and if you’ve heard of the Citadel, either because you know Charleston, South Carolina or you read Pat Conroy’s book, the Lord’s of Discipline, the Citadel is a military college and well known as a tough place to go to school. The hazing of first year students is expected if not encouraged. I had cousins who went there and would show up with burns from where some upperclassmen had put out a cigarette on their arm and other such stories that convinced me I’d rather go anywhere than the Citadel. For those who graduate, however, the abuse is worth it as graduates generally go on to good strong careers. I wonder if Lee knew then that he would be working the rest of his life cutting grass and earning $7.00 an hour with no health care. If so, would he have changed anything? Would he still have endured the hardship of the Citadel for those four years? Probably not, and that was Lee. Lee’s logic was different.
He lived in a hotel, paying more than twice what Sara and I did in rent, but Lee didn’t move because as long as he lived in the hotel there would be someone to change his sheets.
He also told me once, “Joe, there’s no point in brushing your teeth. You’re going to lose them all anyway.”
That’s interesting logic, and it’s not quite insanity according to Einstein’s definition. Lee wasn’t doing the same thing over and over again hoping for different results, Lee was clearly embracing his results and resigning himself, if prematurely, to the reality that he couldn’t do anything to avoid them.
Of course, I decided he was crazy and went on brushing my teeth. Even if Lee is right, even if I am going to lose all my teeth eventually, for now I’ll keep on going through the motions.
That’s not so strange. Going through the motions sometimes is just what we have to do.
No one stands up at a wedding reception to toast the bride and groom, even if they know it will never work, saying, “Why did you go through with all this, you’re probably going to get divorced anyway?”
No one, even if they too believe that we’re destroying the earth, stops to listen to the street side preacher who says that the world is coming to an end.
And no one wants to sit next to the person during the Mule Day parade who says things like, “it’s just a bunch of people riding through town on Mules – just like it is every year!” Everyone in Columbia is either going to leave town or enjoy it and that’s all there is to it.
Knowing how things are going to end doesn’t necessarily change what we do, doesn’t always stop people from going ahead with what they were planning on. But surely, knowing how things are going to turn out does dampen the mood, does affect your ability to enjoy the party, does make you ask yourself philosophical questions about historic traditions while the parade goes by.
In our scripture lesson for today Jesus paraded into Jerusalem – the crowds surrounding him, singing and laying down the branches of palm trees to carpet the road beneath his donkey’s steps.
The Pharisees were so amazed by this procession and the people’s devotion that they basically gave up their plotting against him: “You see, you can do nothing. Look, the world has gone after him!”
But what about Jesus – his feet still perfumed by the oil Mary poured out for his burial?
Having already told the disciples that his path leads to death, I wonder how the crowd’s cheers sounded. Knowing that soon enough he would be dragging a cross through those same streets, I wonder how he felt. Every step of the donkey bringing him closer and closer to a cruel end, was he tempted to change his behavior in order to avoid the result of this actions?
The donkey carried him on, and Jesus rode knowing exactly what lay ahead.
And isn’t that what love is? Isn’t that what it means to live?
Offering your heart to people who may very well reject it.
Giving your life to children who will grow up – possibly to move away, make decisions you don’t agree with, making mistakes you could help them avoid.
Living your life, not afraid, but as one ready to face whatever lies ahead.
He did this for you – knowing full well where he was going.
He rode that donkey to his death – to teach you how to live.
He went on loving those crowds, knowing that soon enough their shouts of Hosanna would turn to shouts of “crucify him” and still he rode on.
For you, he did this. For you he rode on.
Thanks be to God.
Amen.