Sermon on Mark 11:1-10, for the 1st Sunday in Advent 2020 (B), "Entrance"
“To those who are called, beloved in God the
Father and kept for Jesus Christ: May mercy, peace, and love be multiplied to
you.” Today our church year begins anew with the season of Advent. We renew our
annual cycle of watching and waiting for our Lord. Advent means “to come” and
merges our waiting and anticipation for two different comings of the Lord. We
remember, reenact, and celebrate Christmas, Christ’s first coming. We
anticipate, prepare for, and watch for Christ’s second coming, His return to
judge and redeem the world. Advent blends memory and anticipation.
Since this is our Christian “New Year’s Day”
in a sense, as the church calendar renews, we’re oddly out of step with the
world, which doesn’t celebrate New Year’s for another month. The church can
never be in complete alignment with the world, which is blind to God’s
priorities, and often directly contradicts them. And almost as if to keep us a
little off balance, the reading historically used for the 1st Sunday
of Advent is always a bit of a puzzler. The Palm Sunday reading should belong
to Lent, and the preparation for Good Friday and Easter, not Advent, in
preparation for Christmas, right? But ancient wisdom apparently wanted to
remind us that Jesus’ manger can’t be separated from His cross. The purpose of
His entrance into the world can’t be separated from the purpose of His entrance
into Jerusalem on this donkey. His road always led to the cross and empty tomb.
The Palm Sunday reading frames Advent as a season to remember the Coming King,
born to save us.
Jesus had a way of keeping people off balance
too, with His strange arrival in Jerusalem. We recall that Jesus was fulfilling
prophecy from Zechariah, about a coming king that would ride in on a donkey. A
donkey was not the traditional steed for a king. An undersized and lowly
animal, it didn’t portray power, glory, and kingship. More like farm life and
labor. And Jesus didn’t announce Himself as King, but they clearly proclaimed Him
as King, knowing the prophecies. Jesus received worship and honors laid at His
feet, with robes and palm branches strewn in His way. Like the crowds of
Jerusalem, we love a glorious and impressive figure, but Jesus’ quiet humility
catches us off guard. It’s unexpected. Jesus breaks the kingly mold, doesn’t
fit the preconceived notions of the crowds, and He’ s on His mission, whether
people understand or not. Advent prepares us for His birth, but His Palm Sunday
entrance reminds us that He was born to die as King of our salvation.
Also, the colt, the young donkey He rides in
on, is one of several “firsts”. As the Virgin Mary, Jesus’ mother was pure and
set apart for His birth by prophecy. She had been with no man, and He was her
firstborn son. When Jesus rides into Jerusalem, He’s the first to ride this
innocent and untamed animal, the donkey that had never carried a rider. It also
was set apart for His special ride, by prophecy. Then at Jesus’ burial, He was
the first to be buried in the rich man Joseph of Arimathea’s unused tomb, also
by prophecy. No body had yet been laid in this tomb. Each of these “firsts”
marked something as set apart and holy for God’s use, not something common or
ordinary or already used. Each of these “firsts” were fulfilled prophecies that
marked the coming Messiah.
At the same time, each “first” also shows a
humble King without wealth and the ordinary honors due a king. The Virgin Mary
was a young village girl, of no prior fame or wealth, and her whole glory and
honor was in her humble openness to be a servant of the Lord, and the gift she
bore in her womb for all mankind. The young donkey was a borrowed animal, young
and untested, not a famous warhorse or the valuable steed of a nobleman. The
donkey also gained a special honor as the ride for Jesus. And the tomb of
Joseph of Arimathea was the closest Jesus came to a signal honor for a king—but
once again it was borrowed, and only for 3 short days! The resting place of
Jesus was made glorious, not by the rich nobleman who owned it, but by the Lord
who entered the tomb dead, but exited it alive!
Jesus’ life is at the same time set apart and
holy, like Mary’s womb, the donkey, and Joseph’s grave—set apart for our
salvation, and yet slam in the midst of human sorrow, pain, and commonplaces. Jesus
was “set apart”, but not “socially distanced” from the unclean, the outcasts,
the sick or the sinners. He is holy, but He came to bring that holiness to
sinners, to cleanse and heal us from our sins. We worship the Coming King who
is not distant from our struggles or remote from our weaknesses but shared in
flesh and blood and was tempted like us in every way, except without sin. He
did not participate in sin or bless off on it but met with sinners to lead them
out of sin and show compassion to the neglected or forgotten of society. You could
say that His was a holiness “in touch” with the world. He was set apart, but
“for us.”
As we renew this year, we never know how long it
is till Jesus’ Second Coming; only that it’s one year closer. We renew our
annual watch, retracing His footsteps from the manger to the cross to the empty
tomb to the skies. We renew our watchfulness and waiting, our humility and
repentance. He was not ashamed to ride into Jerusalem on a lowly donkey, nor to
be born of a peasant girl, nor to have all the dignity and glory of heaven
hidden beneath His traveler’s cloak and the humble appearance of a wandering
rabbi. We should be as lowly as our Master, as we humble ourselves and prepare
our hearts for His coming. We do not fear to approach Him, who came so lowly to
sinners. His Holy Feast of Christmas is near, and we prayerfully ask how we
shall meet Him, how we shall properly welcome Him (LSB 334).
We may open our hearts to Him by repentance,
confessing all our sins. We pray for Him to stir faith in our hearts, to follow
Him in God pleasing trust and obedience. Where the crowds praised Him with
hosannas, their garments, and palm branches, we praise Him with our joyous
songs and psalms, singing new heartfelt praises to Him (LSB 334). This past
week on Thanksgiving Eve, I preached on “Worship as Thanksgiving.” Worship is
one of the best ways to honor to Christ, and not just with the songs and
praises of our mouths, but in lives of glad expression of thanksgiving to Him.
Just like Jesus, keep walking a little out of
step with what’s ordinary. Quietly separate yourselves from the materialism of
the holidays, so your friends and neighbors see holiness in your keeping of these
holy days. This is a time and a season set-apart for renewed worship of Christ.
Renewing our memory of what He has done, and anticipation for what He yet is
coming to do. But this holiness, this set-apartness, is not standoffishness or
superiority, but a life lived among others for goodness sake. Ours also should
be a “holiness in touch” with the lives of others. To be salt and light in this
world, bringing savor and illumination to others. Acts of kindness in the Name
and for the Honor of our Coming King. Lives of generosity, a little reflection
of Christ’s first walk on earth. Lives of hope and expectation, a little
glimpse of why we wait for Him to walk this earth again.
We too are set apart, holy for God. Our humble
origins don’t keep Jesus from putting us to good use. Our sins are cleansed and
washed away when Jesus enters in, so that we are renewed for His calling, holy
and set apart. We bear an honor not our own, that comes from the privilege of
bearing Christ to the world, a treasure in jars of clay. God in Christ came
down to earth, holy and set apart, but to interact with us and live among us.
The coming King whose destination was Jerusalem. Let’s renew our annual walk as
we follow Him, from His cradle to His cross—our coming King who saves us! Amen.
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