My hands are shaky and my knees are weak
I can’t seem to stand on my own two feet
Who do you thank when you have such luck?
I’m in love
I’m all shook up!
Hard to believe, but it’s been 50 years since Elvis Presley’s song “All Shook Up” was at the top of the charts. Yes, it reached the pinnacle of Billboard magazine’s charts in April of 1957, and it stayed there for eight weeks.
Elvis, who died 30 years ago this August, shook the American music scene like no other pioneer of rock and roll. He became known as “The King of Rock and Roll,” or simply “The King.”
A lot of folks worship Elvis, and have compared him to Jesus. Consider these connections:
Jesus said “Love thy neighbor.”
Elvis said, “Don’t be cruel.”
Jesus is part of the Trinity.
Elvis’s first band was a trio.
Jesus walked on water.
Elvis surfed.
Jesus is the Lamb of God.
Elvis had mutton chop sideburns.
Jesus is alive.
Elvis is ... alive?
But I don’t want to go there. This is a sermon, after all — even if it does fall on April Fool’s Day!
Today’s passage from Luke contains the Palm Sunday procession of Jesus the king, one that leaves the city of Jerusalem “all shook up.” And why not? Jesus has just finished telling his followers a parable — the parable of the vengeful king. This is a shocking story which ends with the monarch giving the command, “as for these enemies of mine who did not want me to be king over them — bring them here and slaughter them in my presence” (Luke 19:27).
That’s right: Slaughter them. Kill ’em all, and let God sort ’em out. That’s the standard approach of numerous ancient kings, and the followers of Jesus are wondering if this is what their ruler will bring to the enemies of Israel. Jesus knows what is in their hearts, and tells this story “because they supposed that the kingdom of God was to appear immediately” (v. 11).
At this moment, it’s hard to predict what Jesus is going to bring. Salvation or slaughter? Reconciliation or revenge? Peace or a sword? The disciples are feeling the anxiety captured so well by Elvis, the King of Rock and Roll:
A well I bless my soul
What’s wrong with me?
I’m itching like a man on a fuzzy tree.
You can picture that, can’t you — disciples “itching like a man on a fuzzy tree.” They’re nervous wrecks. It’s hard to tell what Jesus is going to do as he approaches the city of Jerusalem. Some hope he will drive out the Romans, and rescue the Jews from oppression. Others long for him to push out the corrupt King Herod, and become God’s own king — the Messiah! Either way, some heads are going to roll.
But as he approaches Jerusalem, it appears that Jesus has another agenda. From the Mount of Olives, Jesus dispatches two disciples, saying, “Go into the village ahead of you, and as you enter it you will find tied there a colt that has never been ridden. Untie it and bring it here” (vv. 28-30). He picks a colt, because he wants to fulfill the words of the prophet Zechariah, “Lo, your king comes to you … on a colt, the foal of a donkey” (Zechariah 9:9). He hungers to show the crowd a sense of humility, instead of arrogance — he enters the city as Zechariah predicted he would, “humble and riding on a donkey” (v. 9). The choice of a donkey also sends the message that he is the bringer of peace instead of violence. If he had wanted to take down the Romans, he most certainly would have entered on a war horse.
It looks this king named Jesus is more interested in reconciliation than revenge.
I received a surprising invitation about a week ago. It came from a Presbyterian student at George Mason University. He represents a gay activist group called “Speak OUT,” and he was inviting me to speak as part of a roundtable discussion titled, “Queer People of Faith.”
The invitation made me feel troubled, confused, and all shook up. After all, I’m not a homosexual, and I’m not an activist. But this group wanted a straight pastor to speak about what it means to be “a house of prayer for all peoples,” as we profess to be at FPC.
I thought about it for several days, and in the end I simply had to ask the question, “What Would Jesus Do?” I know that during his time on earth, Jesus included women and children in his ministry, which was a radical approach in his male-dominated world. He consistently reached out to people who were on the margins of society, people considered undesirable or unclean: Samaritans, Roman soldiers, tax collectors, lepers, and people possessed by demons. I realized that if Jesus reached out, then so should I. I shouldn’t turn away from any opportunity to share the good news of Jesus Christ with others. The Jesus that enters Jerusalem on Palm Sunday is clearly a Jesus who comes in humility and in peace, with a desire to bring people together and do the work of reconciliation.
I’ll be on the George Mason campus tomorrow from 3 to 5, in Dewberry Hall. Any of you would be welcome to attend this program.
When Jesus enters Jerusalem, it is clear that God is at work. The disciples go in search of a colt, and find everything supernaturally scripted and perfectly prepared. When Jesus rides along, people spontaneously spread their cloaks on the road, showing their awe and acclamation. “I’m in love,” they seem to be saying, “I’m all shook up!”
At the same time, the disciples grasp the divine dimension of the moment, and begin to praise God for all the deeds of power that they have seen (vv. 35-37). What begins as an ordinary parade for a king ends as an extraordinary procession for the Messiah. “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord!” shout the disciples. “Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest heaven!” (v. 38). You can almost hear an echo of the angels that welcomed the baby Jesus in Bethlehem — “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!” (Luke 2:14).
Clearly, this Messiah is more focused on salvation than on slaughter.
Of course, not all is peaceful in the city of Jerusalem. The Pharisees are all shook up, right along with the people who are spreading cloaks and singing praises. “Teacher, order your disciples to stop,” scold some of the Pharisees. And Jesus, knowing that his kingship is beyond human control, answers them, “I tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout out” (vv. 39-40). Jesus knows that his kingship is divine, and that God will assemble a cheering crowd to welcome his king — even if he has to use the stones of the city streets.
So Jesus enters Jerusalem, and he gives the city a shake. The shock waves continue as he weeps over the city, cleanses the temple, denounces the scribes, and predicts the destruction of Jerusalem. The chaos increases as Jesus is betrayed, arrested, sentenced to death, and killed on a cross. We all know what’s coming. The shakiness and weakness we feel today only intensifies as we move through the events of Holy Week.
But what is the full impact of this day, Palm Sunday? What does it mean for me, and for you, to live as a follower of Jesus the Messiah?
Elvis had it right. “I’m in love. I’m all shook up.”
When we follow our divine king Jesus, we are making this move out of love — not obligation. It’s entirely voluntary, like any connection of the heart. We follow Jesus because we find ourselves intensely attracted to his mission and his message, deeply drawn to his work of salvation, reconciliation, and peace. Jesus is not the vengeful king of the parable; instead he is the forgiving Messiah who sacrifices his life for us. “Love thy neighbor,” says this unconventional king. Don’t be cruel. This is a message that grabs us, and inspires our allegiance.
At the same time, following Jesus as the Messiah means that we’re going to be “all shook up.” As disciples of Christ, we’re going to find ourselves out of sync with a world that lives by the sword, dies by the sword, and is all-too-comfortable with forces such as aggression and revenge. “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you” (Luke 6:27-28) — this approach to life doesn’t necessarily fit the highly competitive and conflict-driven world we live in, whether we work in business, politics, education, or the military. Follow Jesus, and you might find yourself feeling as out of place as an Elvis impersonator at a Kanye West concert. Or a straight pastor at a Queer People of Faith roundtable.
But there is a wonderful benefit to following Jesus, especially if we don’t mind being “all shook up” — when we walk behind Jesus, we become more clear about where we should stand as Christians. William Willimon, a Methodist bishop, tells the story of attending his denomination’s General Conference. During that gathering, his church debated a number of controversial issues, one being the question of whether Methodists ought to own handguns. As you know, this is an ongoing debate in church and society — brought home this past week when one of Senator Webb’s staff members was arrested for carrying a handgun onto Capitol Hill.
During one of the coffee breaks during the Methodist debate, Willimon was discussing with a fellow delegate how he voted on the resolution. The man said, “Well, I voted in support of the ban against handguns.”
“How did you decide to vote that way?” Willimon asked.
“Jesus,” the delegate replied.
“Jesus?” Willimon asked.
“Well, sometimes I really wish,” the delegate continued, “when those soldiers came to arrest Jesus that night, he’d pulled out a gun and defended himself, or at least he would let his disciples defend him with their swords, but you know, he didn’t.”
That’s how it is, concludes William Willimon. As Christians, we’re just “stuck” with Jesus. “To be a Christian is to be about Christ, listening to Jesus, judging ourselves by him, asking for the grace to see him more clearly, follow him more nearly, and love him more dearly, day by day.”
Jesus comes to us as a king, and gives us clarity about what it means to be a Christian. He loves us, he invites us to love him, and he challenges us to focus on salvation, reconciliation, and peace.
It’s a life worth living. Even when it makes us feel “all shook up.” Amen.