The Mind of Christ: A Palm Sunday Sermon

​Every Palm Sunday, I am struck by the contrast between the joyful beginning of the service and the grim Passion Gospel we just heard. We start by processing around the Church, waving palms and singing hymns. A few minutes later, the whole congregation joins in calling out, “Crucify him, crucify him!”
 
That contrast used to bother me, but increasingly I have come to see it as the big point of Palm Sunday. In just a few minutes, we follow Jesus all the way from his moment of triumph as he enters the holy city to the horror of the cross.
 
Think first about what it must have felt like to enter the city with people making a path for you and crying out “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest heaven!” It must have been intoxicating.
 
As you might guess, I have never experienced anything like that.
 
I can only remember a single time when people were cheering specifically for me. I wrestled in high school. My senior year, we had a tough match against our cross-town rivals. Before the match, our coach went through the matchups. He told one boy that he should win easily. To another, he said, in as nice a way as he could, you are going to lose, but try not to get pinned. To me he said my opponent was tough, but he needed me to beat him.
 
At the match itself, to my astonishment, fans actually filled the bleachers, which never happened at our matches. I was already anxious, and having what seemed like a big crowd of witnesses made it worse. But I did beat my opponent. After my bout, the crowd cheered for me. And, I thought to myself, I earned this cheer. Thankfully my teammates all did the same, and we won the match.
 
I think how I felt as my classmates cheered for me, and then I try to put myself in Jesus’ place on the first Palm Sunday. I would have gotten off the donkey so that I could strut my stuff. I’d wave to my admirers. And I’d be thinking to myself, “That’s right. I’m awesome.”
 
Back at the beginning of Lent, we heard the story of the devil tempting Jesus in the wilderness. Among other things, the devil offered Jesus “all the kingdoms of the world and their splendor” (Matt 4:8-9). At the time, Jesus had fasted for forty days. My guess is, kingdoms were not of much interest under the circumstances. At least if it had been me, all I would be thinking about was food.
 
But on the day Jesus entered Jerusalem, cheered by an adoring crowd, I wonder of that temptation didn’t come back to him, if Jesus didn’t think to himself, “This thing that is happening right now, it’s a LOT better than getting crucified.” I certainly would have wanted to keep the enthusiasm coming. 
 
In Jesus Christ Superstar, Simon the Zealot tempts Jesus at just this point. To my shame, it’s my favorite song in the rock opera. Here’s what Simon says:
 
“There must be over fifty thousand
Screaming love and more for you.
And every one of fifty thousand
Would do whatever you asked them to.
Keep them yelling their devotion,
But add a touch of hate at Rome.
You will rise to a greater power.
We will win ourselves a home.
You'll get the power and the glory
For ever and ever and ever.”
 
That devotion, that power, that glory; it would be tempting. Especially when the alternative is literally getting crucified.
 
But Jesus resisted the seductive enthusiasm of the crowd. Jesus rejected the way of power and glory. Jesus chose instead to walk the way of the cross.
 
If we pause to think about it for two seconds, that is a shocking choice, a profoundly counter-cultural choice. In contemporary America, we are much more interested in power and glory than we are in service or suffering. But that is not Jesus’ way. That was not Jesus’ choice.
 
And, it is important to remember, Jesus chose to let go of the power and glory, Jesus chose the way of the cross, out of love for us. That is truly amazing love, Christian love, divine love. That is good news.
 
But, as always, the good news comes with a call.
 
Paul describes Jesus’ choice to renounce glory and humble himself to the point of death—even death on a cross. And Paul tells us to “let the same mind be in us that was in Christ Jesus.” We are supposed to make the same choice Jesus did.
 
This is a hard teaching. Christ loved us enough to sacrifice everything for us. And Christ calls us to follow his example, to love God and neighbor enough that we would be truly willing to give up everything if necessary.
 
As we come to the end of Lent, we should do a little self-examination one more time. Do I love like that?
 
Thankfully, sacrifice and death are not the end of the story. Easter is coming, and it’s not long now. Soon we will be basking in the joy of resurrection, of new life and love, of God’s great victory over sin and death. And one day that victory will be complete. That’s the ultimate good news.
 
But what we see in the Passion Gospel that we just heard, what we will see again in the services of this Holy Week, is the price of that victory, the depth of divine love, and, by extension, the cost of Christian discipleship.
 
Our service this morning is all about God’s love for us, and a call for us to love as God loves. I pray that we can hear both the good news and the call.
 
In Christ’s name. Amen.