St. Paul’s United Church                                                                      Palm Sunday, March 20, 2005

 

Joyful Obedience – Rev. David Mundy

 

Isaiah 50: 4-9a                                       Philippians 2:5-11                                 Matthew 27: 11-54

 

Not long ago I was taken to a restaurant by friends who wanted me to “experience” a place frequented by the university crowd where they live. We went on a Friday night because the weekends are the busiest.

 

Well, this establishment is definitely the place to be for university students, with an energy level and a noise level which almost defies description. If it were possible to hold a parade sitting down, this would be the location. I asked the two young hosts how many people the restaurant held and was informed that about three hundred people could be seated at the tables, but they pointed out that there were easily another hundred in the waiting area.

 

The din was so great that we weren’t expected to hear our names called when the table was ready. We were given a pager, a box with lights that flashed when it was our turn to eat. I’m not so sure that this was the place to be for the parent of university students although the food was good and the experience did turn into a sermon illustration! During the hour we waited to be seated I decided that I might be too old for this sort of thing, fifty-year-old fossil that I am.

 

There is an expression which some of you will know”: So loud you couldn’t hear yourself think.” I’m here to tell you that this expression is painfully true! It was not only next to impossible to carry on a conversation but I found I just couldn’t focus my addled brain. For most of the meal I looked around the room rather than even trying to listen to my companions. It was a graphic reminder that what we assume is the simple act of listening can be a tremendous challenge.

 

This morning is Palm Sunday and we are reminded in our worship that there was a parade a few days before Jesus’ death, which was supposedly a celebration of his life and all the possibilities of his leadership. All four of the gospels tell us about this procession in which Jesus made his way down the Mount of Olives and into the city of Jerusalem along what is still called the Palm Sunday road.

 

We can imagine the crowds milling around Jesus and the excitement which is probably enough that they didn’t notice the comic picture of his feet dragging the ground as he rode on a donkey. They shout out

Hosanna to the Son of David!

Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!

Hosanna in the highest heaven

 

No doubt their shouts of acclamation and joy are loud enough to catch the attention of the Roman authorities and the garrison situated just to the other side of the valley so that they were alerted to this “person of interest” to use the phrase preferred by police forces these days. For all the excitement and the party atmosphere there is an ominous tone to the moment.

 

This is also Passion Sunday and we heard in our Passion Narrative a few minutes ago that sometime during the next few days Jesus found himself back on the Mount of Olives, this time under cover of darkness. He has just shared his last meal with his followers during which he takes bread and breaks it and lifts up a cup of Passover wine and says that these are his body and blood broken for them.

 

They go out from that meal to an olive grove called the Garden of Gethsemane to join other poor pilgrims who camp out there for the night during their time in Jerusalem. The disciples who had pledged their loyalty to Jesus fall asleep around him and alone he prays. It is not a calm and serene time for Jesus. As he listens for God’s direction, he implores God.“My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as thou wilt.” According to one of the gospels Jesus was so troubled in his spirit that he sweat drops of blood. Whether this was literally the case or not, it gives us a graphic image of the anguish he went through.

 

Because of what he heard in his time of prayer Jesus does not flee and he doesn’t fight back when the soldiers came to arrest him. Instead, in this “crucial” moment he prepares himself for all that will lead to the cross. When the authorities arrive to arrest him, he drinks deeply of the cup rather than tossing it aside.

 

Are we good listeners? Do we obediently “incline our ear” to God and seek direction even though we may not always hear what we desire to hear? Our hope is that God is always listening to us and loving us in all circumstances. Let’s be honest though. We aren’t so sure about what it means to be obedient in response. The marriage vows once called on brides to promise that they would “love, honour, and obey” their husbands and no one agrees with those words anymore!

 

Yet we might consider obedience in a very different way. The late Christian writer Henri Nouwen once observed that the word obedience has as its root the notion of listening. To be obedient to God is not to slavishly follow. It is to listen to God with our ears and our spirits as best as we are able with the freedom of choice.

 

Nouwen contended that the opposite of obedience is not disobedience, but absurdity, which means to be deaf. When we are deaf to the voice of God then our world becomes truly absurd. It becomes a place of betrayal, and denial and crowds that are fickle, enthusiastic one moment and condemning the next. We don’t know which way to turn when life loses its meaning

 

We will never experience what Jesus went through that night in Gethsemane, but we all have our crucial times when we need to hear what God is saying to us. These are our “passion” moments and we hope to listen, even in the midst of pain and fear and confusion.

 

We have those circumstances in our personal relationships or at work when it is difficult to hear and we may even feel that God has forsaken us. Just recently a dear friend came to visit us because his marriage of twenty years had come to an end. While their relationship as a couple had been quietly strained for a long time, when his wife asked him to leave he was taken off guard and suddenly his stable world was turned upside down. As we talked, he admitted that when he awakens into the loneliness of the night the temptation is to be bitter and find some way to retaliate, emotionally. But he doesn’t want to become angry for his children’s sake and his own and even for his wife. As a Christian he is praying and asking for the strength to find his way through the sadness and the sense of betrayal to something meaningful.

 

You may wonder where the joy is in all of this. If the message of Christ is new life, why dwell on the suffering? We are people of Good News, but it can take time to get there.

 

I have mentioned before that Henri Nouwen became an extremely popular writer and speaker in the nineteen seventies and eighties and his book The Wounded Healer was an international bestseller. Despite his popularity he went through a crisis of meaning and an extremely dark period in his life. When he emerged on the other side he left the academic life and went to work in a L’Arche group home north of Toronto. While there, he wrote a book with the title Can You Drink the Cup?, which reflects on Jesus’ “prayer of the heart” in Gethsemane.

 

Our cup is often so full of pain that joy seems completely unreachable. When we are crushed like grapes, we cannot think of the wine we will become. The sorrow overwhelms us, makes us through ourselves on the ground, face down, and sweat drops of blood. Then we need to be reminded that our cup of sorrow is also our cup of joy and that one day we will be able to taste the joy as fully as we now taste the sorrow.

 

God’s invitation, always, is to be able to “hear ourselves think” and, more importantly to hear God’s call into new life. And we don’t have to do this alone. We have the story encouraging us not to fall asleep when others are in need, nor to abandon one another. That same story also reminds us that even when we think we have failed we are still loved and accepted.

 

We also have one another. As the church we can become a community of joyful obedience, if we understand that to be joyful listening. This is the place we come to hear God in a noisy world. And every time we pray for one another and comfort one another and laugh with one another we share the cup which gives us life. Please believe that the choices we make as individuals and as a community make a difference.

 

During this holiest of weeks in the Christian year we will remember that Jesus’ obedience ends, not at the cross, but with the empty tomb and the gift of new life for each one of us. There is another passage for this day which we didn’t read because there is so much in this service. In the second chapter of the apostle Paul’s letter to the church in Philippi there is a hymn of the early church which tells the story of Jesus, human and divine.

 

Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus

who, though he was in the form of God,

did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited,

but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave

being born in human likeness

And being found in human form,

he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death

– even death on a cross.

 

Therefore God also highly exalted him and gave him the name,

that is above every name...

 

We are grateful this morning for Christ’s joyful obedience and we hear the call to follow.