Ps. 118:1-2, 19-29

1 O give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; his steadfast love endures forever!

2 Let Israel say, “His steadfast love endures forever.”

19 Open to me the gates of righteousness, that I may enter through them and give thanks to the LORD.

20 This is the gate of the LORD; the righteous shall enter through it.

21 I thank you that you have answered me and have become my salvation.

22 The stone that the builders rejected has become the chief cornerstone.

23 This is the LORD’s doing; it is marvelous in our eyes.

24 This is the day that the LORD has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.

25 Save us, we beseech you, O LORD! O LORD, we beseech you, give us success!

26 Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the LORD. We bless you from the house of the LORD.

27 The LORD is God, and he has given us light. Bind the festal procession with branches, up to the horns of the altar.

28 You are my God, and I will give thanks to you; you are my God, I will extol you.

29 O give thanks to the LORD, for he is good, for his steadfast love endures forever.

Mark 11:1-11

11 When they were approaching Jerusalem, at Bethphage and Bethany, near the Mount of Olives, he sent two of his disciples 2 and said to them, "Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately as you enter it, you will find tied there a colt that has never been ridden; untie it and bring it. 3 If anyone says to you, 'Why are you doing this?' just say this, 'The Lord needs it and will send it back here immediately.' " 4 They went away and found a colt tied near a door, outside in the street. As they were untying it, 5 some of the bystanders said to them, "What are you doing, untying the colt?" 6 They told them what Jesus had said; and they allowed them to take it. 7 Then they brought the colt to Jesus and threw their cloaks on it; and he sat on it. 8 Many people spread their cloaks on the road, and others spread leafy branches that they had cut in the fields. 9 Then those who went ahead and those who followed were shouting, "Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! 10 Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David! Hosanna in the highest heaven!" 11 Then he entered Jerusalem and went into the temple; and when he had looked around at everything, as it was already late, he went out to Bethany with the twelve.

*****

Well, I have to say, after the Palm Sunday parade today, Macy's has nothing on us! What a wonderful procession! What a wonderful celebration of Jesus's entry into Jerusalem…the choirs, the bells, the palms, the parade! What a day!

Today is not only Palm Sunday, though. Other churches are celebrating Passion Sunday today, the day that marks the start of Holy Week, of Jesus's road to the cross. Those of us who plan to attend the Maundy Thursday and Good Friday services will walk that road this week: today experiencing the triumphal entry into Jerusalem, on Thursday the Last Supper and footwashing, on Friday the crucifixion. But not only Palm Sunday, or Passion Sunday, today is also one week before Easter. Some of us, most likely, will skip Holy Week all together, going straight from the procession of today to the excitement of the resurrection on Easter morning.

Today is Palm Sunday, but it is also all of these other Sundays, with other significances. Today is a complicated day in the life of the church. Because today is so many things, with so many mixed emotions.

We, like many congregations, started off this morning in celebration. We gathered for a parade, we've shouted hosannas like the crowds in Jerusalem. We waved our leafy branches, marking a royal path for Jesus to follow. We'vesung and celebrated the one who comes in the name of the Lord! We've joined the festivities for the one who brings the glory of the kingdom of David!

But let's not get ahead of ourselves here. Both the Psalm and the text from Mark that we've heard this morning are not as unabashedly joyous as our Palm Sunday celebrations. The texts seem to know it's a complicated day.

If they made Top 40 Charts for the Psalms, Psalm 118 is up there in the list as one of the most popular. There are all sorts of familiar lines: "This is the day the Lord has made;" "open to me the gates of righteousness;" "give thanks to the Lord for he is good, his steadfast love endures forever;" "blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord…" These are familiar words. They are in our hymns, our calls to worship, our joyful praises. This is a psalm for the good times: for praise, thanking God, and singing to God. But then, right in the middle, it just slips in, this line: Save us, we beseech you, O LORD! (this is the meaning of hosanna) O LORD, we beseech you, give us success! (v. 25).

Where did that come from? We're going along, singing praises to God and then all of a sudden, the psalmist beseeches God. Beseeches, asks earnestly, begs, asks urgently for. The psalmist asks not for just anything, but for salvation and success. The psalmist knows, apparently, that life is rarely clear-cut. Even in the midst of praise, there's a request for saving. Even in the midst of confidence in God's goodness, there is a slight shadow of doubt. Even in the certainty of God's steadfastness, there is a plea for success…it can't hurt to ask, just to be sure, right? Kind of like when Carolina plays Duke…I mean Clemson later today. We trust who will win, but it never hurts to ask, just in case.

*****

Mark's text, too, is more complicated than we first realize. We hear this text and immediately picture the scene. We've been to church enough times on Palm Sunday to know what it's all about. Jesus enters Jerusalem and crowds gather to welcome him, to put down their cloaks, to shout hosanna, blessed is he! But, if we listen carefully, this text is not simply about a joyful entry into Jerusalem. It is chock full of irony and foreshadowing.

The setting of the text itself has importance: "They were approaching Jerusalem, at Bethphage and Bethany, near the Mount of Olives," we are told. The specificity of Jesus and his followers being near the Mount of Olives isn't really necessary since we already know the major city where they are headed and the smaller towns to which they'd come. And yet, the Mount of Olives is named. The Mount of Olives—where Jesus will be arrested only three chapters later. A first bit of foreshadowing.

When Jesus enters the city, the crowds cry, "Hosanna, blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David!" They praise him, welcome him, and call him a king! This title will come back at him a few chapters later when Pilate asks, "are you the king of the Jews?"

The crowd gathered at the gates of the city, those who put down their cloaks and leafy branches, those who celebrate Jesus' arrival, they cry out the lines from Psalm 118, "Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David! Hosanna in the highest heaven!" Today they are the adoring fans, the willing and trusting followers. A few days later, these same crowds will shout "crucify him!" A bit more foreshadowing. A bit of irony that a few days hence these same adorations will serve to accuse Jesus, these same crowds will serve to condemn him.

But the irony here is not only in the crowd, it is in Jesus too. This whole scene is a shift in Jesus's standard operating procedures. This is, afterall, the gospel in which Jesus repeatedly tells people to keep his identity secret, to keep his healings secret. It is the gospel that ends with the women telling no one that the tomb is empty, but keeping it secret because of their fear. And now, the secretive Jesus is instructing his disciples to steal a colt and he enters the city in a festal procession, like that of a heralded prophet.

The layers are still more though because of the historical context in which Jesus's procession occurs. This text marks the start of Passover week at the temple in Jerusalem. It is the largest celebration of the Jewish people. In the age of Pax Romana, the empire could scarcely allow the gathering of the Jews and celebration of their most sacred of holidays (a holiday, remember, commemorating their God who freed them from oppression) they could not be trusted to hold this celebration without some supervision. So, on the one hand we have Jesus entering the city of Jerusalem on a humble colt, greeted by many people who lay down their cloaks and shout hosanna. On the other side of town Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor, surrounded by Roman soldiers, enters the city in a large show of military strength. If the people are looking for a triumphant descendent of David who is a victorious military commander, who has the power to overcome adversaries like Pharaoh at the time of Passover, Jesus's meager procession will hardly pass muster in comparison to the procession of Rome, personified in Pilate.

In this text we find all these strange juxtapositions. Overtly public action when secrecy has been the norm. A dramatic entry into the city laced with humility in the riding of a stolen colt and made meager in comparison to the military procession happening across town. The cries of a crowd we know will change their tune in a matter of days and their shouts of praise turned into fuel for the prosecution. Strange juxtapositions.

****

So what is today? It is Palm Sunday; it is Passion Sunday. It is a triumphal entry; it is humble procession. It is the shouts of support from the crowd; it is a crowd that will turn on him. It is a journey into Jerusalem for Passover; it is the journey to the cross. It is a day of celebration; it's a day of painful anticipation. Today is a collision of religious expression and a collision of emotions.

And perhaps that collision is exactly where we need to be and to stay for the next few days. Rather than staying in the triumphal entry, rather than to moving on to the passion, to the depths of Jesus's suffering, rather than skipping right ahead to the joy of Easter, perhaps we need to stay right here in the confusion of all these things happening simultaneously. Rather than wrapping things up nicely and neatly, we stay right here, in the collision of joy, pain, suffering and anticipation. We stay right here in the juxtapositions and learn how to cope with them.

Because life is this way. It isn't black and white. It is shades of gray and shades of color.

Steel Magnolias, that now classic movie, has a great line in it. The group of women whose friendship is the basis for the movie are together after the funeral of one of their daughters. Her mother is shouting and crying, screaming that she doesn't understand…children are not supposed to die before their parents…she is so angry that her grandson will never know his mother, so angry that the world has been robbed of a good, kind spirit…she is so angry she could hit something…her friend Clarice, in an bold act, pushes Weezer, the bad-tempered, mean, sour, one of the bunch to the front, and offers her up as just the thing to hit. Grief is tangled with a stunned silence and then laughter. Soon the group is laughing and crying all at once. "Laughter through tears is my favorite emotion," one woman says. A favorite emotion, perhaps because it gets to what is most true, most vulnerable, most sincere in our experience and being. But it is not black and white; it is juxtapositions of emotions.

Sending your child off to the bus stop for the first day of school isn't black and white. It's an exciting milestone. Yet it is scary to let go and trust that he can cope with school. There's pride in watching that little person step out on her own. Yet it is painful to recognize that she can be part of the world without you. It's shades of gray.

Faith is this way too. The Christian faith is a story of juxtapositions and collisions. The last shall be first and the first shall be last. Anyone who will lose their life shall save it. We are simultaneously sinners and set free from our sin. God is great and God is humble. The kingdom is now and the kingdom is yet to come. It is Palm Sunday, it is Passion Sunday. Absolutes are not what we're after. Experiences of love and grace are. And neither of those is clear-cut.

Love can mean saying no to a child. Love can mean setting boundaries and expectations for the people who ask the church for financial assistance. Love can mean turning off life support. Love is a messiah entering Jerusalem on a stolen colt.

Grace is an empty tomb. Grace is a crucifixion. Grace is a lamb sitting on the monarch's throne.

Delving into these juxtapositions, these collisions of emotion, we begin to see what is complicated and complex as "assemblies of smaller parts, all of which we can name, and some of which we can heal or alter," and finally, we arrive at what is most true, most sincere in our experience and being. It is not black and white. It is the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God (Mk. 1:1). Amen.

Williamson, Lamar. Mark: Interpretation. Atlanta: John Knox Press, 1983, p. 203.

Brueggemann, Walter, et al.  Texts for Preaching: Year B.  Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1993, p. 247.

Brueggemann, Walter, et al.  Texts for Preaching: Year B.  Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1993, p. 247.

Brueggemann, Walter, et al.  Texts for Preaching: Year B.  Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1993, p. 248; Harper Collins Bible Commentary. p. 915.

Brueggemann, Walter, et al.  Texts for Preaching: Year B.  Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1993, p. 247.

Based on the work of Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan in The Last Week. 

Kingsolver, Barbara. Small Wonder. New York: Perennial, 2003, p. xiii.