Sermon from September 9, 2001
We know the early history of Israel from the inside by the stories that have come down generation by generation. They are our stories too. They tell of David and Solomon and Israel's golden age. They tell of a long and terrible decline from that golden age. They tell of a day when the Babylonian armies of King Nebuchadnezzar came against Jerusalem and destroyed it and deported the flower of Jewish citizenry. The kings were gone; the nation was gone; Jerusalem was gone. A long and sometimes tragic succession of nations began to rule Israel, even after Jews returned and built Jerusalem.

During the long and terrible decline from Israel's golden age, voices had spoken out that foretold the tragic history to which the decline would lead. But those voices had also prophesied a reversal of fortune and the return of a glorious age of Jewish ascendancy and worldwide blessing to follow. Such hopes came to be invested in a figure that did not yet exist. The Jews called him Mashiach, Messiah.

As those five centuries of occupation neared completion, Israel came to believe more strongly than ever that the words of the prophets were nearing fulfillment. God's kingdom and God's king were coming to vanquish, first the Greeks, then the Romans. Pretenders arose, claiming to be Mashiach. Their failed attempts at liberation and the occasional, gruesome rows of crosses that gave the lie to their pretensions only made Jewish hopes of deliverance more fervent.

In this violence-tinged, revolutionary atmosphere John the Baptist's imprisonment sent a signal to Jesus that it was time for Him to go public. He did so in Galilee with an inflammatory message. "The time has come," he said. "The kingdom of God is near. Repent and believe the good news!" Could the moment have come when the promise of the prophets came to pass? Could this be the Man who would bring it to pass? Only if we read the Gospels against this background of revolutionary fervor and national hope can we apreciate more fully the story of Jesus of Nazareth, and especially that chapter in the story that we read today. Mark 11:1-11 tells of the day that Jesus rode into Jerusalem to a royal welcome.

As we read through these eleven verses, I would like to show you why we are right to call it a royal welcome, and I would like to offer a meditation on this event. The first seven verses carry royal significance that would have been obvious to many people in Jesus' day. A little effort will convey that significance to us.

As they approached Jerusalem and came to Bethphage and Bethany at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two of his disciples, saying to them, "Go to the village ahead of you, and just as you enter it, you will find a colt tied there, which no one has ever ridden. Untie it and bring it here. If anyone asks you, 'Why are you doing this?' tell him, 'The Lord needs it and will send it back here shortly.'"

They went and found a colt outside in the street, tied at a doorway. As they untied it, some people standing there asked, "Why are you doing, untying that colt?" They answered as Jesus had told them to, and the people let them go. When they brought the colt to Jesus and threw their cloaks over it, he sat on it.

At first glance this has to do only with a means of transportation into and out of Jerusalem. A camel would have sufficed. A horse would have been better. These reasonable conjectures forget the thoroughly Jewish character of Jesus of Nazareth and how thoroughly the Torah penetrated His consciousness. His choice of transportataion, like so much else in these few verses, reflects a profound awareness of the prophets of Israel. Look with me at Zechariah 9:9-10.

Rejoice greatly, O Daughter of Zion!
     Shout, Daughter of Jerusalem!
See, your king comes to you,
     righteous and having salvation,
gentle and riding on a donkey,
     on a colt, the foal of a donkey.
I will take away the chariots from Ephraim
     and the war-horses from Jerusalem,
and the battle bow will be broken.
     He will proclaim peace to the nations.
His rule will extend from sea to sea
     and from the River to the ends of the earth.

Zechariah prophesied after the Babylonian armies of King Nebuchadnezzar came against Jerusalem and destroyed it and deported the flower of Jewish citizenry. If we were to read the last six chapters of Zechariah's prophecy, we would learn that his was one of those voices that prophesied a reversal of fortune and the return of a glorious age of Jewish ascendancy and worldwide blessing to follow. Verses 9-10 lay at the heart of his hope for Israel's future.

Five centuries had passed since Zechariah's ringing words had stirred hope in Jewish hearts, and the king he foretold had not come, until Jesus came riding into Jerusalem on a colt. Zechariah's prophecy teaches us to view His entry into Jerusalem as a deliberate, royal act. So does the next description in verse eight.

Many people spread their cloaks on the road, while others spread branches they had cut in the fields. 2 Kings 9:11-13 provides more Old Testament background that helps to interpret what people were doing with cloak and branch. A prophet had privately anointed a military commander named Jehu to be the next king of Israel. Verses 11-13 display great political savvy on Jehu's part, and they shed light on Mark 11.

When Jehu went out to his fellow officers, one of them asked him, "Is everything all right? Why did this madman come to you?"

"You know the man and the sorts of things he says," Jehu replied.

"That's not true!" they said. "Tell us."

Jehu said, "Here is what he told me: 'This is what the LORD says: I anoint you king over Israel.'"

They hurried and took their cloaks and spread them under him on the bare steps. Then they blew the trumpet and shouted, "Jehu is king!"

It had been nearly six hundred years since such a thing had been done in Jerusalem. It was done for Jesus, and together with His symbolic ride on the donkey it portrayed His entry into Jerusalem as a deliberate, royal act. If those two events seem too subtle, what happened next leaves no doubt about the understanding Mark intends us to have about Jesus' ride into Jerusalem.

Those who went ahead and those who followed shouted,

"Hosanna!"

"Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!"

"Blessed is the coming kingdom of our father David!"

"Hosanna in the highest!"

Once again, the Old Testament comes to our aid. Look at Psalm 118:25-26.

O LORD, save us; O LORD,
     grant us success.
Blessed is he who comes in the name of the LORD.
     From the house of the LORD we bless you.

The crowd was calling out unmistakably verse 26. I included verse 25, because I want you to hear how the two words, save us, sound in Hebrew: Hoshianna! Hoshianna! At the beginning and the end of their on-going chant, it is the Jewish cry for the God of Israel to fulfill the words of the prophets and deliver Israel from the oppressor. The third line of their chant identifies the Deliverer as the descendant of David, who will sit as King over Israel. They saw Jesus of Nazareth as that King and Deliverer.

Verse 11 prepares us for what comes next, but it would also have maximum political effect on the city. Jesus entered Jerusalem and went to the temple. What would He do there? He looked around at everything, but since it was already late, he went out to Bethany with the Twelve. He will return. "The Lord you are seeking will come to his temple; the messenger of the covenant, whom you desire, will come," says the LORD Almighty. But who can endure the day of his coming? (Mal. 3:1-2).

With the royal significance of this episode firmly in mind I want to reflect on it for a few minutes from our vantage point. I want to point out two ways in which it is connected with the first ten chapters of Mark. Then, I want to connect it with the hope of the Church of all ages, including our own age.

First, the royal character of Jesus' entry into Jerusalem makes perfect sense as Mark reveals Jesus to us in chapters 1-10. "The time has come," Jesus said. "The kingdom of God is near. Repent and believe the good news!" Kingdom is a political word. Right from the start Jesus' message had unmistakable, royal overtones. Whether He could make good on the rhetoric remained to be seen, but the rhetoric was regal.

By saying that the time has come, Jesus claimed His life as the climactic moment for which God had brought Israel into existence. The word in His message that put the fat in the fire was the word near. If someone says that God's power to exercise authority over a nation's life is about to show itself in the public arena, the next thought in our minds should be, "Show me! Prove it!" As we have seen, He did so in a remarkable squence of deeds.

In chapter six Jesus fed the five thousand with five loaves of bread and two fish. It offered another demonstration of His authority, but it went considerably beyond that. If I am right, the feeding of the 5,000 points to Jesus as the inexhaustible source of satisfaction for humanity's seemingly insatiable hunger for purpose and wholenss.

That in turn offered the deepest answer yet to the question, Who is Jesus? He is more than a carpenter, more than a native son of Nazareth. He is more than John the Baptist come back to life. He is certainly a prophet. He thinks of Himself as a prophet. Others call Him a prophet. But if He is the inexhaustible source of satisfaction for humanity's seemingly insatiable appetite for purpose and wholeness, then He is more than any other prophet ever claimed to be. The event has kingly overtones. In the Gospel of John some of the people who ate the loaves try to declare Him king by force. He will have none of it.

He is pleased but not satisfied, when Peter confessed Him to be the Messiah, a title with unmistakable, kingly implications. The ride into Jerusalem gave public expression to intimations and declarations and hopes that He was the long-expected King of the Jews, who would save His people from their sins.

In a second way, however, the royal character of Jesus' entry into Jerusalem makes no sense as Mark reveals Jesus to us in chapters 1-10, particularly in chapters 8-10. There Jesus foretells three times that religious leaders would reject him and turn him over to the gentiles for torture and execution.

In light of His own foreboding, why would He deliberately enter Jerusalem as a king and allow other people to welcome Him as a king? Was it a charade? Was it a mockery of the hopes of those who were loyal to Him? I do not think it was mockery or charade. He was the King, the fulfillment of Israel's fondest hopes. He was also doomed to die. If those opposites seem impossible to hold together, I can only comfort you by saying that Peter and the others also found them impossible to hold them together. But think about it for a moment from Jesus' point of view.

In His own consciousness He saw Himself to be the Messiah, the King of the Jews, and He also saw Himself in a great mystery as doomed to die. The reality of the doom did not do away with His royal reality. He could not deny any part of the truth about Himself. If He is the King, then He must go to Jerusalem and declare Himself there, come what may. But it goes deeper than that.

We know from Mark 14-15 that His claim to be King gave the legal grounds for His crucifixion. The inscription of the charge against Him that Pilate nailed to His cross read, King of the Jews. The religious leaders who taunted Him as He hung on the cross said, "Let the Messiah, the king of the Jews, come down now from the cross."

If Jesus had just denied that He was the King, He could have spared Himself the crucifixion. But if He denied that, what was left? The world would not be saved by one more giver of good advice. He must tell the truth about Himself, and that is what He did, when He entered Jerusalem on a colt to the acclaim of the crowds. By telling the truth then and later, He sealed His doom. He also became the Savior of the world.

Finally, I want to connect Jesus' royal entry into Jerusalem with the hope of the Church of all ages, including our own. I am glad it happened, because it needed to happen then. I am glad also that it happened, because like so much else in Jesus' ministry it offers a foretaste of things to come.

Revelation 1:7 says of the risen Jesus, Look, he is coming with the clouds, and every eye will see him, even those who pierced him. We may think of Palm Sunday under Pontius Pilate as a false start. We may also think of it as a shadow of things to come, when the King will enjoy a truly triumphal entry into Jerusalem, and not into Jerusalem alone, but into all the great cities of the earth.

When Billy Graham preaches to a million people in Times Square; when seven million gather in Manila to hear Pope John Paul II; when hundreds of thousands of Promise Keepers jam sports arenas from one end of the land to the other – I believe they anticipate the Triumphal Entry that is to come to London, Paris and Moscow; to Cairo, Kinshasa and Johannesburg; to New York, Chicago and L.A.; to Mexico City, Sao Paolo and Rio; to Beijing, Hanoi, Seoul and Tokyo; to New Delhi, Baghdad and Jerusalem.

In the meantime hundreds of thousands of congregations like ours meet as we do, in dress rehearsal for the grand celebration to come. Marana Tha! Lord Jesus, come!