Crash Landing
Have
you ever listened to a sermon thinking, hoping that the preacher was about to
wrap it up only to hear the preacher go on again about a completely different
subject? In case you were wondering, the
official term for this tactic is called “circling the airport.” I am especially good at circling the airport
at the 7:00 service on Wednesday mornings because I don’t
write anything down.
When
I have circled the airport one too many times, I see certain individuals
reaching for their prayer books. This is
my cue to prepare for landing and usually the landing is a crash landing but in
the end everybody survives.
I
give you this image because this is how I see Jesus setting up Holy Week. During the Liturgy of the Palms, we read
about Jesus’ triumphant
entry into Jerusalem. It isn’t
too far of a stretch to understand the scene in today’s
lesson like that of one from the Lord of the Rings (Luke 19:28-40).
From
the west comes the imperial power of the land led by Pontius Pilate robed in
extravagance and power with an army the stretches to the skyline. And from the
east come a rag tag band of rebels led by Jesus who rides into town on a colt. If Vegas had a line on this, Pilate and his
army would be the overwhelming favorites.
But
Jesus’ rebels
remember the story of King David. They
remember how a simple shepherd boy stepped up to Goliath and the Philistines
and took Goliath down with the flick of a wrist. This band of rebels has faith that Jesus is
going to do something similar. After
all, Jesus comes from the line of David and from the line of David comes the
Messiah.
Jesus’ band
of disciples treat Jesus’ entry into
Jerusalem as if they have already won—laying palm branches on the ground and
proclaiming, “Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord. Peace in
heaven and glory in the highest heaven!”
But
Jesus knows the victory isn’t going to be that easy. Earlier in Luke’s Gospel, we see Jesus weep
over Jerusalem, the city who kills her prophets and stones her messengers. Jesus knows what is in store for him and Jesus
will weep again for Jerusalem.
While
the way of Jesus is the way of peace, this way will not come without a seismic
shift in the political, social, and even geographical landscape of the
world. The kind of peace that Jesus
brings is a peace that the world does not know.
The kind of peace that Jesus brings will expose just how fragile and how
futile our earthly attempts at peace are.
The
only kind of peace that the world knows is temporary. We wage war, we sign peace treaties, we wage
war, we sign peace treaties and the cycle continues. Our earthly kingdoms do not know true and
everlasting peace. Our earthly kingdoms
are lured into believing that earthly leaders or systems can fix the problem. But the truth remains, the solution to our
problems is not of this world, a world that only knows death and destruction.
Jesus
does not offer peace by settling earthly disputes over land and power. Jesus does not come to take an earthly throne
of power. Instead, Jesus offers peace by
inaugurating the kingdom of heaven on earth, a kingdom that is populated by one
nation, ruled by one God.
But Jesus’ first
steps toward true peace are steps toward the cross. His first steps toward peace are steps toward
death. If Jesus’ band
of disciples actually believed Jesus’ battle plan
included the way of the cross, then they would have fled long ago.
And soon enough,
when they learn the way of the cross, the way to true and lasting peace, they
will turn on Jesus. Soon enough Jesus’ followers
will groan because Jesus’ sermon that
could have easily ended here on the donkey takes a new direction. Soon enough these shouts of praise turn into
shouts of execution (Luke 23:1-49). Jesus is circling
the airport and preparing for a crash landing.
If
the peace that Jesus brings is not from this world, then certainly his way to
this peace will look strange to this world.
The way of true peace sees Jesus take on the evil powers of this world
not with sword and fist but by letting evil do its worst by nailing him to the
cross. Power, pride, hypocrisy,
cowardice, and fear put Jesus on the cross—all the things that earthly systems
thrive off of for life put Jesus, the Author of Life, to death.
Station XI by Anne Strand
The
only one who is righteous and blameless is the one who is condemned to
death. The only one who can save this
world from death and destruction is destroyed.
The one who displays the merciful love of God on the cross dies like a
criminal. Jesus’ display of other-worldly
power moves a Roman centurion to say, “truly this man was innocent.”
Like
the sequence hymn says, our Savior’s song is a love unknown—love to the
loveless shown that they might lovely be.
On the cross, the world is shown a love that changes the world—a love
not of this world.
But
here we are today, some 2,000 years later, and the same battle is being
waged. It is not a battle between
Republicans or Democrats. It is not a battle between Christians and Jews and Muslims. It is not a
battle between earthly powers of good versus evil. Instead, it is a battle being waged in the
human heart and in the consciousness of our world. It is the same battle for earthly power
driven by pride and cowardice and fear.
How
long will this world be satisfied with answers that lead to hate and violence
and war? How long will we be satisfied
with justifying ourselves by demonizing the other? How long will our petty disputes blind us
from seeing the new world that God is opening up for us through the Passion and
Death of Jesus Christ?
When
will we finally trust that true peace comes from above, true peace comes from
the power of God in heaven, a power that knows that evil has nothing on the
power of love.
In
the end, God desires to give us the eyes to see through and beyond the
nightmare of this world by giving us the never-ending story of Jesus, by giving
us a song of love unknown. God desires
to give us peace that passes all understanding, a peace not of this world, but
first we must travel to Jerusalem with Jesus.
Today’s
story ends with a crash landing and that crash landing might be just the
thing needed to expose the world’s false sense of peace and comfort. That crash landing might be just the thing we
need in order for us to trust that God’s way in Jesus is the only way that can
make us take off again.
I
invite you this week to go with Jesus again to Jerusalem and remember how God
gives a world filled with death and despair the wings to fly by giving us the
song of Jesus—a song of love unknown.
Amen.
Invitation to Holy Week
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