Sermons

“Why Waste Your Breath?”

Matthew 21:1-11 – Rev. Rebecca Littlejohn

Vista La Mesa Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), La Mesa, California – April 9, 2017

Holy God, bless the speaking and the hearing of these words, that our hearts might overflow with praise and adoration. We pray in Jesus’ name, Amen.

And so here we are, at Palm Sunday, the day that marks the beginning of the end of the beginning. It turns out six weeks is a really long time, but Lent is now almost over. If you are one of those people who chose to give something up, or take something on for this six-week season, and are, in fact, still doing it, congratulations! As a congregation, we’ve been focused, if loosely, on the theme of the Body of Christ since Ash Wednesday. And when you turn that lens on Palm Sunday, things get really interesting. There is a lot of humanity on display in this story.

In the Bible study this morning, the class looked at the various versions of the story of the triumphal entry into Jerusalem from the four different gospels. It is perhaps worth mentioning that this story, as part of the passion narrative, is one of the few that has the distinction of appearing in all four gospels. Today, of course, we officially read Matthew’s version of the story, which has the added, super-human element of having Jesus somehow riding two different donkeys at once! But I need to confess that my sermon title actually comes from another version of the story: kind of, sort of from Luke, but more directly from what you might call the “Gospel of Timothy” – Tim Rice, that is – the not-particularly-religious man who wrote the lyrics for the musical “Jesus Christ Superstar”. We’ll come back to his version later.

“Why waste your breath?” It’s an interesting question to apply to Palm Sunday. And honestly, it’s an important question to apply to Christian faith in general. And a very human one. So who shall we ask first? Perhaps the crowd gathered at the gates of Jerusalem. The gospels, of course, don’t really agree on how many people it actually was – anything from “many people” to “a very large crowd” – but that is not the point. Why were they wasting their breath? “Hosanna” – the word of the day – literally means “Save us!” which might offer some clue. They were needy people, living under occupation. Each one probably had a different level of knowledge about who Jesus was and what he had been doing. Like us, they probably had a wide variety of reasons for being there, from those who were seeking solace from grief or healing from pain to those who were just looking for something interesting to do.

But what about the disciples? The gospels hint that they were probably the ones who got the crowd going, if only by procuring the donkey(s). But the disciples should have been a little wary about what was going on. Jesus had, by this point, been pretty explicit about the fact that his time was coming soon, and the way he’d explained what that meant sounded pretty ominous. Jerusalem during the Passover was always sort of a mad house, and they knew Jesus had been riling the religious authorities, not to mention their Roman rulers. Why would they want to draw attention to their arrival like this? Did they just decide to enjoy one last hurrah? Or did they not really understand what was coming?

So often, when we re-enact the Passion Story, we conflate this crowd shouting “Hosanna!” with the one that, just a few days later, will be yelling “Crucify him!” Well we might ask why a crowd that fickle would waste its breath. Why would you spend your energy lauding the new arrival on Sunday, when you’re only going to clamor for him to be put to death by Friday? Were these two crowds really the same people? Maybe, maybe not. But there’s a reason we indulge in this over-simplification. It’s because we know how true it is. As humans, and even as the Body of Christ, we have to confess that this is a thing we do. Our enthusiasm often outpaces our capacity for critical thought. We get caught up. We shout contradictory things, sometimes even more simultaneously than this mythic crowd. And sometimes those things we clamor for have life-and-death consequences. One need only contemplate our nation’s sinfully paradoxical approach to Syria to know that this fickle crowd is a potent symbol for some of our less than noble human tendencies.

Once we’ve admitted this about ourselves, it seems time to ask our question of Jesus himself. “Why waste your breath?” A ‘why bother’ question like this is almost always arising from a place of cynicism, which we talked about just a few weeks ago. But we have to ask, don’t we? Why bother warning the disciples about what was going to happen in Jerusalem, if they weren’t going to understand, and were all going to run away like cowards anyway? Why teach the crowds about the impending kingdom of heaven, if they were going to claim “no king but Caesar” when it really mattered? For that matter, why bother at all, teaching and preaching and healing and feeding, when people are so very awful? Why waste your breath?

And then, of course, the question turns back on ourselves. Why do we bother? In these times of such division and hatefulness, violence and trauma and fear, why would we lift up our voices to praise the God of mercy and love? Why would we waste our breath insisting that the people of God are essentially unified, when any fool can see we are not? Why would we spend our energy teaching our children to forgive when the world order is built on who can hold a grudge the longest and spread it around the most broadly? Come to think of it, why would we choose to follow a Savior who doesn’t know any better than to pick a donkey over a big, white horse?

There is a lot about our faith that doesn’t make sense by the world’s standards. And most of it comes to a head this week, when we remember the story that changed a Jewish teacher and his band of followers from a commune into a new world religion. I hope that you will join us for our service on Thursday, because that’s when we’ll get into the nitty-gritty of it. We cannot adequately answer the question of “Why bother?” if we don’t give our attention to the whole story, especially that part near the end of the week. Cynicism wants to convince us that our religion is based on a loser. We need to experience every day of this week in order to understand why that is both true and not true.

If we’re going to “Share the Joy!” we need to be present all week long, so that we can effectively do that with people who are suffering. If we’re going to break through the crust of cynicism that coats everything in our society, we’re going to need something more than “Hosanna!” The world has seen too many people cry out their God for salvation and perish nonetheless to be convinced by that. But a story where God cries out to God for salvation? And isn’t saved exactly, but nevertheless ends up defying death? There is an element of surprise there that makes cynicism blink. “Why waste your breath?” It turns out there are a lot of reasons. And this week is about to remind us of them.

There is so much about Palm Sunday that is confusing and contradictory. It’s uninformed, simplistic jubilation, but it’s also foreshadowing. It’s a triumphant procession, but it’s on a donkey (or two?). The crowd is shouting both blessings and petitions. It seems like a fun thing to re-enact with the kids, but then we notice where it’s leading. Why do we bother with such complication? Can’t we just show up on Easter and be reassured that God will take care of everything? Well, yes, but what does that even mean if we haven’t contemplated what it is God will take care of?

We have a hard week ahead of us. But I hope you make sure to show up for it, because even if your life isn’t particularly hard today, it will be at some point. Many of you need no convincing, because you’re in the thick of it right now. This week is why your faith can help you with that. Don’t miss it. Because there are just a few reminders that we get even today, to remind us that the pain and suffering and death we’ll remember this week will not have the last word.

To return to the “gospel of Tim” for a moment, let me explain, for those who are less familiar, the context of this quote that became my sermon title. It’s not the crowd asking “Why waste your breath?” or even the religious authorities or Rome. It’s Jesus. Caiaphas has tried to shut down the crowd singing “Hosanna”, with his dismal predictions and pointed snobbery. And then Jesus, who up to this point, hasn’t said anything, cuts in with a beautiful tenor counterpoint, putting the whole thing in a new context (you can sing it with me if you want to!): “Why waste your breath, moaning at the crowd? Nothing can be done to stop the shouting. If every tongue were still, the noise would still continue. The rocks and stones themselves would start to sing!”

And suddenly, for just a moment, we are reminded that the God who came to humbly die on a cross is the Creator of the heavens and the earth. Just for a moment, we are reminded that there are bigger things than our human power struggles and the death penalty. We are reminded that our human fickleness is not the power that charges the universe. And we can catch our breath and know that we will make it through the week, no matter how dark things may get. We must go through this week, so that Easter can come. On this most human of holy days, it’s nice to know just how thoroughly God knows us, with all our faults and foibles, and to be reassured that God loves us even more deeply than that. If we are to be the Body of Christ, we must walk with Christ this most human of paths. But let us not forget the hope that lies at the end of the road. Amen.