Into JERUSALEM!”

Mark 11:1-11

Jerusalem!

The journey to the cross winds up here…in Jerusalem.

What began 33 years ago on a cold winter night in Bethlehem finds its culmination now in the early Spring as Jesus’ ministry comes to its most important moment…in Jerusalem.

So on Palm Sunday, choirs often sing,

Last night I lay asleeping
There came a dream so fair,
I stood in old Jerusalem
Beside the temple there
I heard the children singing
And ever as they sang,
Methought the voice of Angels
From Heaven in answer rang
"Jerusalem, Jerusalem!
Lift up you gates and sing,
Hosanna in the highest.
Hosanna to your King!"

The most important journey of our faith ends up here…in Jerusalem.

I wonder if you remember the first time you ever saw Jerusalem. It was not the time that you, like millions of others of us, rode the big tourist bus up into hills of Zion in Israel far away, and saw in the distance the floodlit walls of the Holy City. For me, that was an awesome moment – a sight I’ll never forget – and I hope it was for you, too. But that wasn’t the first time we saw Jerusalem.

And I’m not talking about the times before that when someone showed us a picture, or we looked in a Bible atlas, or even heard a song about the city that made us conjure up a mental image. No, I’m asking if you remember the very first time you ever saw Jerusalem.

You see, you could miss the whole meaning of Palm Sunday and Holy Week, and Jesus’ death on the cross if you don’t remember your first encounter with Jerusalem. Otherwise, you might be tempted to think that Jerusalem is simply a piece of real estate that exists somewhere over in the Middle East. You might even assume that Jerusalem is simply a city comprised of streets and walls and buildings.

But that’s not what Jerusalem is.

Do you remember the time Jesus came to Jerusalem and when he looked upon the city, he cried, “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you…O, Jerusalem, Jerusalem, how often I have longed to gather your children together as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings…”

You see, to Jesus, Jerusalem was more than a city.

Jerusalem was humanity.

And the first time you and I ever saw Jerusalem, was the first time we ever looked in the mirror.

Jerusalem! You. Me. All of us together. That’s where Jesus’ journey finally ends up. That’s where the cross is raised. Not in some city far away. But within our own lives, and within our own hearts.

You see, today we’re coming closer to the fact that the cross of Jesus really is a cross in every direction. And the final and perhaps most important direction of the cross of Christ is the one that points straight at ourselves. It is the cross that makes us look in the mirror.

Will Willimon says that the Jesus we meet on Palm Sunday and in Holy Week is not the Jesus we really want to know. This Palm Sunday and Holy Week Jesus is not the conquering hero, come to save us from our foes. He is not the tender shepherd, come to lead us victoriously through life.

No, the Jesus we meet on Palm Sunday and Holy Week is sort of like the Music Committee in my first church!

You see, they had a problem. The church organist, once a brilliant musician, trained at Julliard and able to make our 1865 George Stevens tracker-action organ sing as sweetly as you can imagine, had lost it all to alcoholism. There were times his hands shook so badly, he couldn’t continue the service, and one or two times when the ushers had to carry him out. He missed choir rehearsals, and showed up late for weddings, and lost all the beautiful skill he once had. Couldn’t even play a simple hymn without screwing it up completely.

But we were a church of Christians. That was our first mistake! Know what I mean? So we tried to do the “Christian” thing. We tried to help him out, but we really enabled him. People turned a deaf ear to his inept playing. We turned a blind eye to his deteriorating appearance. People got him employment when he lost his job. And when he couldn’t even get a job anymore, people brought him into their homes, and fed him meals, and poured out their lives in love for him. In fact, people contributed thousands of dollars to put him through detox and rehabilitation programs.

But as soon as the programs ended, he started drinking again. Despite all our “Christianity”, he never changed. In fact, he got worse.

Finally, one day, this Music Committee decided to stop being so “Christian”. Two of the members went to where he was living, and confronted him with a long litany of all the hurt and pain his irresponsible life was inflicting upon others. They told him his problem could not be tolerated anymore, and they hoped for his sake that he could get a handle on it. They reminded him of all the hope and love so many people had for him.

And then they told him he was fired. Done. Finished. Boy, talk about tough love!

But today, this man will tell you that the moment the Music Committee confronted him with the truth about his life – both the fact of his failure and the fact of his potential - was the moment his journey toward sobriety began. Now it doesn’t always happen as easily as that. Some of you who deal with alcoholism or addiction in your families know that full well.

But still, there is a great truth here. We human beings need people in our lives who are brave enough to tell us when we’re wrong. We need people who are courageous enough to confront us with the truth about ourselves. We need people who have the guts to tell us that they, and God, and the world need and expect more from us than what we’re giving. We need people who can speak the truth, in love.

So Jesus rides into Jerusalem. And all along the way, like my old Music Committee, Jesus speaks the truth, in love, to us!

One of the first stops he makes is at the local church. If you remember the story, he causes quite an uproar, telling them they’ve turned God’s house into a corrupt place, and their faith into a dead-end religion. He throws over some tables, and snapping a whip, tells the people to get out! “You’re fired!” he says.

Oh, when Jesus comes to Jerusalem – to you and me - he confronts us with the fact that our religion sometimes stinks.

Some of us, you know, focus our faith more on getting ourselves through the day and someday to heaven than we ever do on giving thirsty children something to drink. Let me ask you, which of those two things is most predominant in your prayers? Helping you with your problems? Or helping you figure out ways to get thirsty children clean, cool water? I know what my answer is! And it’s not pretty! In Matthew 25, Jesus tells us that, if our religion is like the former – lived with its primary focus on us and our needs and not on others and their needs - we’ll never make it to heaven. That’s dead-end religion.

And sometimes we use our faith as an excuse for excluding others and not caring for the needs of those who have lost their way through life. We are so quick to judge, and slow to love. I know this is true of myself. Could it be true of you, too? But in Matthew 9, Jesus tells us the well have no need of a physician. Those who are sick do. So if we’re looking for the Great Physician in the company of the righteous – so isolated and protected from the unrighteous - we won’t find him there. He’s too busy taking care of the tax collectors and sinners. Excluding others for any reason is dead-end religion.

Oh, we’ve got bad religion in our lives. Do you remember what you made for a salary at your first job? When I was hired to serve my first church, they offered me $6,500. But being a tough negotiator, I got them up to $6,600! That wasn’t very much back then, and we were pretty poor. And I remember how easily I could preach back then about how it will be more difficult for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for rich people to enter the Kingdom of Heaven. You see, that passage just wasn’t about me! But every pay raise I’ve gotten since that time has made it more difficult to preach that sermon without understanding that Jesus was talking not about others, but about ME. Compared to most people in the world, I’m rich! And so are you! Many of us here today have been blessed with a certain level of affluence. Now, Jesus didn’t say it would be impossible for affluent people like us to make it to heaven. He just said it’s easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle! I sure hope there’s some skinny camels out there! And some really big needles! Because, unless we get a hold of ourselves, and re-prioritize our lives, and learn to use our God-given resources responsibly for others, we’re up a creek without a paddle! That’s what Jesus said! Remember how he taught that, of those who have been given much, much will be expected? Otherwise, it’s dead-end religion.

You see, Jesus is an equal opportunity confronter. No one escapes his judgment when he shows up here in Jerusalem. Oh, there’s a lot of bad religion around in our world. So the first stop Jesus makes on Holy Week is at the church. And he terminates our employment.

Then Jesus goes to the dinner table where the family gathers.

And there are shameful things going on here. Why some members of that family are talking about how they’re so much better than some of the others! You know, that sort of thing goes on a lot in our family. Why, we’ve got some relatives who are seriously defective! We sort of look down our noses at them because, compared to them, we look pretty good. In fact, just a little while ago as we were discussing some of those family deficiencies, Sandy said to me, “How in the world did YOU ever turn out so normal?” What a funny thing, huh? Using ME as the benchmark for normal! Goes to show you how bad those relatives are! Well, Jesus gets very angry with the disciples for doing that. He tells us what we should be doing is serving and helping and empowering the weak among us.

And Jesus gets mad at us for not keeping our promises when the going gets tough. Peter promised that he’d be faithful to the end when, in fact, he knew darn well that as soon as things turned sour he was going to hightail it out of there. Remember how he denied Jesus three times? Happens in the best of families. Teenage kid gets pregnant. Family member develops mental illness. Husband or wife gets sick. Grandparent gets old and frail. And we abandon them. There are a lot of abandoned people in our families. And like with Peter in the courtyard, the cock crows in our Jerusalem, and Jesus looks at you and me – and weeps. There are a lot of very unhealthy relationships around the dinner table in our families.

And Jesus exposes them all.

All week long it happens. At the church. At dinner. In the garden with our Lord. Jesus holds up the mirror to us in every dimension of our lives – our faith, our families, our personal situations – and he shows us the truth about ourselves. And tells us we’ve failed. And that there’s more expected of us. And that, unless we change, we’ll destroy ourselves, and our families, and our world.

This Jesus of Holy Week is not the Jesus we want to meet.

And yet, each of us knows out of our own experience that we human beings need people in our lives who are brave enough to tell us when we’re wrong. We need people who are courageous enough to confront us with the truth about ourselves. We need people who have the guts to tell us that they, and God, and the world need and expect more from us than what we’re giving. We need people who can speak the truth, in love.

I can’t imagine how awful it must have been for that organist of ours to be confronted with the truth about himself, and let go from his twenty-five year long position at our church. But that’s what happened the day the Music Committee paid him the visit.

And that became over time his first step down the road toward sobriety and healing.

And that’s why Jesus confronts you and me this week. Not to break us, but to heal us. Not to repudiate us, but to call us higher. Not to chide us, but to challenge us with a higher calling!

As you look back over the course of your life, I think you’ll agree with me that the people who have most helped you are so often the people who wouldn’t let you settle for less. It was the hard-nosed coach who would not accept mediocrity, and motivated you to the next level. It was the teacher who would not accept laziness, but who made you work hard enough to discover even more potential and ability. It was the parent who would not accept anything less than your best effort, even if it came up short.

And that’s the call of the cross.

Whenever it is raised up in your life, you need to hear it calling you to something higher than where you are, to something greater than what you’ve got, to accomplishment and duty and work that is better than what you’ve done!

You can do better with your life! You can accomplish more for others! You can be a better spouse, a better parent, a better kid, a better grandparent. You can be a stronger Christian. You can use your blessings more effectively than you have in the past. You can accomplish more for the Kingdom of God!

So today, Jesus comes into Jerusalem. He comes into your life and mine. And he lifts up the cross.

For it is only in the cross that we can learn who we really are, and who and what we can become through the resurrection!!

As this Holy Week begins, where do you hear Jesus speaking to you? What needs to change? What needs to be put away? What needs to be taken up? What do you need to be doing better?

As Jesus speaks to you today, let us lift high the cross together!