Palm Sunday

April 9, 2006

University Baptist Church

Minneapolis, MN

It may seem strange to read from I Kings and the story of Elijah on Palm Sunday. I mean, we’re supposed to be talking about Jesus, right? It’s all about the triumphal entry, right? It all sets the stage for Holy Week, right?

Right. But we need to understand a bit about Elijah if we are to know about the importance of the triumphal entry of Jesus into Jerusalem.

We need to remember Elijah if we are to get a sense of why the crowds turned on Jesus.

We need to know about Elijah to see why the organized church turned toward Peter and away from Mary Magdalene as the leaders of the new movement that would become Christianity.

And we need to know Elijah, Mary and Jesus if we are to give birth a movement in the present day.

I say that last bit intentionally. The birth of the movement wasn’t simply something that happened once two thousand plus years ago. If it is to be a real movement, then it needs to be reborn at least every generation if not every year.

In the scripture Anne just read, we find the great prophet Elijah running for fear for his life from Queen Jezebel. Elijah has just slain 450 prophets of the god Baal. In true megalomania hubris, he declares, “I, only I am left.” Meaning, “I am the only righteous one.” Elijah was a warrior who was taken up into heaven. Lifted up, ascended without death. He was the one who was to come at the great time of the messiah in order to make all things right. He was the one who saw God clearly in that cave, the one who realized that God was not in the earthquake or the windstorm or the fire. God was there in the still small voice, the silence after the storm granting hope again to the people. Elijah was the one who had the power to grant successorship and he did so to Elisha (Store that one in the back of your brain for next week).

The Messiah who was to come was none other than Elijah—or at least one like Elijah. This one was to enter Jerusalem as a warrior king and destroy the evil and ungodly enemy.

Every Passover feast holds a place setting for Elijah in hopes that he will come and bring with him the hope for peace, often by doing away with the enemies of God.

So Jesus entered into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday and the people greeted him like he was Elijah.

They gave him a donkey on which a King should ride.

They said blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord.

They declare him King.

The Romans take note of this and watch him closely. They are ready for him to launch his insurrection campaign. But he doesn’t. The only thing he does is turn over the tables of the moneychangers. He messes with Hebrew commerce, but doesn’t seem to do anything about the brutal idolatrous Roman rule.

He can’t be Elijah, then—or so say the people who waved palms in the air. He’s not organizing a revolution. At least not a military one. He’s got the still small voice thing down, but not the righteous fury against Baal thing.

He breaks the mold. He doesn’t want to be a king. He knows that kings can really mess things up. Largely because they think they are God. Jesus doesn’t want people to depend upon him. Jesus wants people to depend upon each other. Jesus wants people to do justice, love mercy and walk humbly with God. Jesus wants people to live out Isaiah 61 which he quoted in his first sermon, “the Spirit of God is upon me because God has anointed me to bring good news tot he poor, to proclaim release to the captives, recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free and the proclaim the acceptable year of God’s favor.”

But this didn’t sit well with the people. They were looking for Elijah and they got someone who looked like Elijah, had glimpses of Elijah, but didn’t have Elijah’s warrior mentality. Those who welcomed him into Jerusalem as a warrior king would later turn on him, mock him and stand idly by as he was crucified (depending upon your interpretation) as an insurrectionist by Rome, as a blasphemer by the Jewish authorities, or as a little bit of both.

What we do know is that after Jesus’ death and resurrection, he ascended just like Elijah did. And we also know from the New Testament record that the early church did seek to select a King to follow in Jesus’ footsteps. Only they named it something a bit different. They called the king a Pope and named Peter the very first one. Peter and his followers would then set in motion the kingly duties that a good Elijah-like succession-line would do.

Since the church was so hell-bent on this Peter-as-successor line, they had to disassociate themselves with others who were there. This is where Mary Magdalene fits into the story, or perhaps where she exits the story. Mary is there at the cross, the empty tomb, is the first to see Jesus, is the first to announce the resurrection, is very much like Elisha having received a double-portion of Elijah’s power by witnessing his resurrection. But Mary is not interested, it would seem, in establishing a religion or even a kingdom on earth.

She is interested in continuing the work that Jesus began.

She is interested in creating a movement.

And whether or not she is part of the continuing story or not is really up to all of us.

This sermon is entitled, “Elijah, Mary, Jesus and the Birth of the Movement.” I can see where each of these characters might have started the movement. I can trace it back of Elijah’s duel on Mount Carmel or his epiphany in the cave.

I can trace it back to Jesus being born in a stable with an illegitimate or at least questionable conception, delivering the Sermon on the Mount or even riding into Jerusalem as a misunderstood prophet, or delivering that post-resurrection statement, “peace be with you.”

I can trace it back to Mary Magdalene mistaking him for a gardener and then proclaiming for the first time that Jesus is alive once again. All of these places can be the beginning of the movement.

But as I look at the movements throughout history and the movements of faith and the movements of the faith community, they begin not only at the epiphanic moments of revelation. Sure, that’s a good starting point, but it doesn’t make for the sustaining power of a movement.

The real movement happens over a meal.

It happens when we break bread together.

It happens when we have conversation and arguments all while remembering to fill our bodies as well as our souls.

It happens when we serve a meal to another who may not have enough to eat.

It happens when we do the dishes.

It happens when we work out the hard labor that is life and we pause to figure it all out.

The movement really begins at a meal.

Throughout the Gospel of Luke, Jesus sits at a meal with people in order to revel something. When Zaccheaus is belittled by everyone, Jesus goes to his house for lunch.

When the unnamed Syrophoenician woman speaks to Jesus to call him on his own lack of inclusiveness, it happened over a meal.

When Jesus wanted to get away, you could see him at a meal in Bethany with Mary, Martha and Lazarus.

When the disciples gather and Jesus tells them of his coming betrayal, denial and death, it happens at a meal.

When Jesus appears on the road to Emmaus or on the beach after he is crucified, he is made known to the people over a meal.

The earliest recorded rite of the Christian church was a meal, not unlike the one we are going to celebrate, although I bet it was kinda like the one we celebrated an hour ago.

Amazing things can happen over meals.

Many of us have been in each other’s homes in our UBC tradition of dinners for 8. I know of one such dinner group that had such a good time that they are continuing to meet, and it’s not just for the food. There was something there that was discovered over that dinner table that begged to be expanded upon.

On Sunday nights, a group of people ranging from five to fifteen gather for study and community and a meal. This group has gotten pretty close and I know I look forward to seeing what is on the minds and hearts of these fascinating people.

My friends, the movement of God does not so much matter who it comes from or whom it emulates.

It more matters that it is genuine, it is heartfelt, and that it is done together with a community of people. What better place to launch a movement than over a meal.

May we eat heartily.

May we drink deep.

May we partner with one another as the spiritual offspring of Elijah, Elisha, Mary, and Jesus as we continually give birth to the movement that is the Good News for all people. Amen.