Expectations

Sermon for St. Mark Hope and Peace, Year B, Palm Sunday, March 25, 2018

Mark 11:1-11

          When they were approaching Jerusalem, at Bethphage and Bethany, near the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two of his disciples ²and 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. ³If anyone says to you, ‘Why are you doing this?’ just say this, ‘The Lord needs it and will send it back here immediately.’” ⁴They went away and found a colt tied near a door, outside in the street. As they were untying it, ⁵some of the bystanders said to them, “What are you doing, untying the colt?” ⁶They told them what Jesus had said; and they allowed them to take it. ⁷Then they brought the colt to Jesus and threw their cloaks on it; and he sat on it. ⁸Many people spread their cloaks on the road, and others spread leafy branches that they had cut in the fields.⁹Then those who went ahead and those who followed were shouting,

“Hosanna!
Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!
¹⁰Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David!
Hosanna in the highest heaven!”

                ¹¹Then 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.

“Expectation is the root of all heartache.”

          --William Shakespeare

“High expectations are the key to everything.”

          --Sam Walton

          Expectations are a funny thing.  A lot of sages will tell you not to have them at all. 

          The patriarch of the Walmart dynasty will tell you that you should absolutely have them, and they should be high!

         

          How many of us have them?  Expectations?

          Pretty hard not too, isn’t it?  Any time we are taking on something new—new job, new relationship, new restaurant—we have a set of expectations.

          “Maybe this time, they’ll recognize my full potential.”

          “Maybe she’s the one!”

          “Maybe they’ll put the correct amount of Thousand Island Dressing on the Reuben Sandwich.”

          It’s important!  Hardly anyplace gets it just right.

          We have expectations for our church, don’t we?  Certain things we believe should be happening here?  I expect that every one of you will all come to every Holy Week service, and that so doing will change your life, in measurable ways.

          That is my normal, reasonable expectation for the coming week.  You probably have some as well.  I recommend expecting to be changed, because your expectation will likely bear fruit, whether or not your pastor’s expectations are reasonable.

          Palm Sunday is about expectations.  We have them.  And they are apparent in the story of that day that Jesus rode on palm-strewn streets into the holy city.

         

          What were the people lining those streets expecting from Jesus?

          A king.  They threw down their cloaks.  They put “leafy branches that they had cut from the fields” along his path.  As you would do for the king.  They cried out “hosanna!” which means a couple of things.  Originally, it meant “save us!” Now it is more a term of adoration and praise.  In Jesus’ day it likely had both uses.

          They were expecting a king.  A powerful king.  A king in the line of? 

          David.  God’s king. Verse Ten:  “Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David!
Hosanna in the highest heaven!”

          And the things Jesus did that day played right to their expectations.  A lot is made of the fact that Jesus rode in on a little donkey, but the image of a donkey which had never been ridden is a kingly image.  Especially when the people make a saddle for him on said donkey out of their cloaks. [slide]

          So he did ride in like a king.  And then he went straight to the temple.  Who hangs out in the temple? 

          Those priestly guys.  [slide]

          So a king who also hangs out in the temple?

          Messiah!!!  [slide]

          The people in Jerusalem that day expected that Jesus was the one they had been waiting for.  The one who would take on the oppressive empire AND lead a spiritual revolution from the Temple Mount.

         

          And so he did…sort of.  And that’s the thing about expectations, isn’t it?  Sometimes we have big expectations and things don’t work out exactly the way we wanted and as we move on and look back, we realize that we got what we needed.  It just wasn’t exactly what we asked for.  God knows that what you need most isn’t actually “smoky green eyes and a tight butt.” 

          On the Day of Palms, Jesus rode into town like a superhero Messiah and went straight to the temple built by King Solomon and rebuilt by King Herod. And there, Mark tells us, Jesus looked around.  And what did he see?  People changing money and selling doves to poor people and bulls to the very rich.  A marketplace, rather than God’s house.

          But, it was late, so he went back to Bethany and Martha cooked a nice dinner and they all got some sleep and the people in Jerusalem spent one night thinking that the Messiah had come and was very pleased with everything.

          Then the next day, Jesus went back to the temple and tore that place up!

         

          Expectations. 

          The portico Jesus entered that day is gone.  The arches and the gates and the inner sanctum—the Holy of Holies.  All gone…except for one wall.  The Western Wall.  Still the holiest place on earth for Jews, and a great pilgrimage site for Christians.

          I stood there, a couple of weeks ago…a bit overwhelmed.  There are always people praying at the Wall, but on Friday evening it comes alive, and if you want to pray at the wall itself, you have to make your way through people standing and sitting and dancing and singing, come close to the wall itself, and wait your turn.

          So I did that and I got to the wall itself.  The remaining wall of the Second Temple.  The Temple in which Jesus schooled rabbis when he was twelve, and where he and his family went, year after year, for Passover, and where he threw down that “holy week” so long ago.

          I got up there and I placed my hand on the wall, and it was a deeply spiritual experience until I thought “now what?”  I expected that I would have a really profound prayer to pray at the holiest wall in the world.  But as happens sometimes—maybe not to you, but to me, sometimes—I didn’t have a custom set of wise petitions to add to the buzz all around me.

          Usually when that happens, I just hold still and let God look into my heart.  Because that’s what I’m trying to put into voice by the always imprecise means of language.  The stuff in my heart.

          So I stood at the wall, with one hand touching, and then two, and then my head and let God look into my heart and then I knew what I was really doing there.

          So I said your names.  I started at the front of the sanctuary and named you from where you sit.  “Ruth Ellen, Jone, Layney, Becca, June, Ronnie,” and so on.  I added Kris and David, and Noe and Sherry.  And a prayer for those to come.

          I knew that I was in Jerusalem because of you.  Because of your trust and your love, and your faith that this community is an important beacon of light in a community and a world that is getting far too accustomed to darkness.

          I was there because of you and for you and I wanted to make sure that God heard your names in that place that has been the center of faith for three thousand years.

          As I reflect on that moment now, I realize that my expectations are just like those of the people lining the streets of Jerusalem that day long ago.  They aren’t misplaced.  They might be framed wrong, but they are right.

          God sent a Messiah to a people living in an empire.  He showed them how to build a new world, together.  A world with love at its center.

          Our lives will be changed this Holy Week.  Because we will move through this week of joy, trust, betrayal, agony, and triumph together.

          We will encounter the holy together.  And there we will here Jesus saying our names. 

Amen