Who is this?

Scripture Lessons: Psalm 118: 1-2 and 19-29, Matthew 21: 1-11 Sermon Title: Who is this? Preached on 4/9/17 I love a parade. According to the Daily Herald, last Saturday for Mule Day, 100,000 people watched as over 600 horses and mules marched up West 7th Street for the Mule Day Parade. This was our family’s 7th Mule Day, and the event has lost none of its charm. But, a parade is an interesting thing. People do things in big groups that they wouldn’t normally do. People don’t normally ride cows but last Saturday someone did. Doctors, judges, teachers, lawyers, preachers – don’t normally wear overalls like Bob Duncan, but on Mule Day they do. And parents don’t usually fork over $8.00 so that their children can buy annoying plastic horns for them to blow incessantly, so Andrew Hickman did that for them last Saturday, and now his name is anathema throughout our neighborhood. People do strange things in a parade, things that they wouldn’t normally do – because people, most people, are swayed by crowds. There’s something about the energy of a great big crowd that’s intoxicating. In a parade, you might find yourself cheering and caring about some issue that you wouldn’t normally give a second thought to. You might find yourself celebrating a person you don’t really even know that much about. It’s possible that in the atmosphere of a parade, you’d find yourself waving palm branches and shouting Hosanna and only as an afterthought you’d ask, “Now who is this guy?” “A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the 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 this one who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest heaven! When he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil, asking, “Who is this?” The crowds were saying, “This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee,” but did they really know? Did any of them really know who this man was. I ask the question because knowing someone in the context of a parade is one thing. Knowing someone’s name as it is chanted is one thing. But really knowing who this Jesus is – that’s another thing completely, because in a matter of days we’ll remember the crowd that will again surround him chanting, but this time they’ll be chanting: “Crucify him!” I love a parade, but people do strange things in a parade; most people are swayed by a crowd. That’s been the case with me any number of times. Along with my friend Matt Campbell I’ve been teaching our church’s Confirmation Class, where middle school students are learning what it means to be a member of First Presbyterian Church. As a seminary trained pastor, I suppose I’m qualified to teach this class, but when I was a Confirmation Student myself, I spent a good number of class meetings, not inside the church listening to the teacher, but behind the church building, loitering by the railroad tracks. My parents would drop me off, and on my way into the church for Confirmation Class I’d inevitably be persuaded to join the crowd. That’s not to say I didn’t learn anything during my time in Confirmation, for even though I was not officially in the class hearing what the teacher had to say, this experience taught me a lesson I’ll always remember that most people, me included, are swayed by the crowd, and so while Jesus rode into Jerusalem on that Palm Sunday long ago, with the whole city in turmoil asking, “Who is this?” I don’t believe that any of them really knew. Who is this? If you wave palms one day. If you are shouting hosannas to the Son of David on Palm Sunday, but are shouting for his crucifixion on Good Friday – then you don’t really know. If you let him wash your feet one day – but betray him the next as Judas did, then you don’t really know who he is either. If you eat at his table for the Last Supper as Peter did, but you deny him three times before the cock crows, then you don’t really know who this man is. Who is this? they asked – and this is a question that I believe only Jesus really knows, because we are swayed by crowds. We may sing his praises one day, but we humans may well betray him the next. How quickly we are corrupted. How quickly the idealistic lawyer becomes jaded by the system. How quickly the young politician becomes another cog in the wheel of bureaucracy. How quickly the motivated student is corrupted by apathy – because there are so few of us who know who we are so well that our sense of self is secure regardless of who we are surrounded by. You know the expressions – “lay down with dogs and wind up with fleas”. Or, “if you don’t have anything nice to say, come sit by me”. But this Jesus – this Jesus we remember today rode into a crowd that he knew would turn on him and yet he rode on anyway – knowing exactly where he was going and knowing exactly who he was. Who is this? That’s what Jerusalem asked – and there were some who wanted him to be their King – a great soldier who would lead them in their fight against the Romans, but rather than mount a war horse Jesus stayed on his donkey. Then there were others who, all they wanted, all they would ask, is for him to calm down. The Romans feared a revolt and if this Jesus would simply calm the crowds around him, if he would simply deny who he was, then they would gladly welcome another conquered subject into their city – but rather than bow to Rome, Jesus rode on. Now the miracle in this is plain enough – because being whoever they want you to be is easy – being who you are, that’s harder. James K. Polk’s parents lived right next door, and as a college student he’d return home, go up to sleep in a room with his old wagon in the corner. Come down for breakfast and the servants pour him a bowl of Captain Crunch. “I don’t like that stuff anymore,” he says. “I prefer eggs and bacon now.” “Oh really?” they say. And then they whisper, “Look who goes off to college and ends up too big for his britches.” (Tom Price of the Polk home has not authorized this account, but it was something like that.) Then he heads to Washington DC and in DC there are new boxes that people try to put him into. “Vote with us,” they say, “and if you’re not with us than you’re against us.” This is a harsh climate to live in, but that’s what it’s like. That’s what it’s like in Washington DC, that’s what it was like in Jerusalem 2,000 years ago and that’s what it’s like for you too. Everyone is wondering, “Who is this?” And somedays they’ll like you and they’ll cheer because they’re happy with who you seem to be. Other days they’ll curse you because you’ve disappointed them. Sometimes they’ll say to you: “Who is this?” and you’ll be tempted to say, “I’m whoever you want me to be.” Do you remember that TV show the Bachelor? It might still be on – when Sara and I were first married she’d watch it and I’d sit on the couch next to her pretending not to watch it. The format of the show isn’t a very good model for dating if you’re a woman, because there were like 25 of them for this one guy to choose from. Maybe the show was a pretty good model for dating if you were him, but if you were one of the women then you were tempted to resort to desperate measures, mainly – don’t be yourself. Be who you think he wants you to be. The most dramatic example was this woman who was in a conversation with the bachelor himself, and he asked, “so, what’s your favorite chain restaurant?” and she could have said Ruby Tuesdays, Pizza Hut, Taco Bell, Bucky’s – but instead she says: “I don’t know, what’s your favorite?” and it was at this moment that Sara threw the remote control at the TV. She didn’t actually – but I do remember her not wanting to watch the show anymore after that, so I said, “Maybe we could just watch it till the next commercial break.” “Who is this?” They asked Peter, and knowing that being himself was going to cost him something, he denied who he was three times. “Who is this?” They asked Judas too, and for a price he betrayed a man who he loved and followed. “Who is this?” That’s what they asked Jesus – and knowing just how much being himself was going to cost – rather than gain his life and lose himself he rode that donkey onward. People do strange things in a parade, some people lose themselves in the crowd – but not our savior, and it doesn’t have to be you either. Follow him with me. Amen.