Triumph From The Cross (Final Words Part VI)

Sermon Title: A Triumphal Entrance with A Triumphal Exit

Good News Statement: Jesus provides us with triumphs

Preached: Sunday, April 10, 2022 at Dogwood Prairie and Seed Chapel UMC

Pastor Daniel G. Skelton, M.Div.

 

Scripture (NRSV): Mark 11:1-10 Today’s scripture reading comes from the Gospel of Mark chapter eleven verses one thru ten. Listen to these triumphal words of Mark…

Jesus’ Triumphal Entry into Jerusalem

11 When they were approaching Jerusalem, at Bethphage and Bethany, near the Mount of Olives, he sent two of his disciples ² and said to them, “Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately as you enter it, you will find tied there a colt that has never been ridden; untie it and bring it. ³ If anyone says to you, ‘Why are you doing this?’ just say this, ‘The Lord needs it and will send it back here immediately.’” ⁴ They went away and found a colt tied near a door, outside in the street. As they were untying it, ⁵ some of the bystanders said to them, “What are you doing, untying the colt?” ⁶ They told them what Jesus had said; and they allowed them to take it. ⁷ Then they brought the colt to Jesus and threw their cloaks on it; and he sat on it. ⁸ Many people spread their cloaks on the road, and others spread leafy branches that they had cut in the fields. ⁹ Then those who went ahead and those who followed were shouting,

“Hosanna!
Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!
¹⁰     Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David!
Hosanna in the highest heaven!”

 

This is the Word of God for the People of God; And all God’s people said, “Thanks be to God.”

 

John: “ When Jesus had received the wine, he said, “It is finished.” Then he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.” (John 19:30)

Luke: ^“It was now about noon, and darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon, while the sun’s light failed; and the curtain of the temple was torn in two.  Then Jesus, crying with a loud voice, said, ‘Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.’ Having said this, he breathed his last.  When the centurion saw what had taken place, he praised God and said, ‘Certainly this man was innocent.’” (Luke 23:44-47)

 

 

Introduction:

One Palm Sunday, a little boy had a sore throat and had to stay home from church with a sitter. When the rest of the family came home, they were carrying palm branches. The little boy asked what they were for. His father told him that people held them over Jesus’ head when he walked by. In a sad, disappointed voice, the little boy said, “Wouldn’t you know it?  The one Sunday I miss, Jesus shows up!”

Day One of his Passion Week begins with the crowds greeting Jesus with cheers as they hail the coming of David’s Kingdom. The crowd, with great shouts of praise, adores Jesus by saying, “Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest heaven!” (Mark 11:9). When Jesus came into Jerusalem, many were anticipating a messiah who would lead an armed rebellion against the Romans. However, Jesus sorely disappointed the people. Instead of war, “Jesus,” according to Adam Hamilton, “taught [the] people to love their enemies and [to] pray for their persecutors.”

The once heard shouts of praise seemed to dwindle as the crowd realized that Jesus wasn’t who they wanted him to be. Palm Sunday begins with a triumphal entry—cloaks are spread on the ground and palm branches are waved and songs are sung—but over the course of the remaining days, the praise for Jesus dissipates and torture, pain, and death close the week. However, on that Good Friday, after Jesus says from the cross, “It is finished,” there is a triumphal exit that leads to a moment of praise. From the cross, Jesus provides us with moments of triumphs even when it seems as if triumphs can’t be found. From a triumphal entry to a triumphal exit, Jesus gives us hope: a hope to face tomorrow.

Opening Prayer:

            Let us pray…Dear Heavenly Father, although the day is coming when your Son will bow his head and breathe his last from the cross, help us to remember that his death is not the end but the beginning to many more triumphal beginnings. I pray that my words fall to the ground as your words settle in the hearts of all those before me. In your name we pray, Amen.

 

Body:

Upon entering the city of Jerusalem from Bethphage and Bethany, near the Mount of Olives, Jesus directs his disciples to fetch a colt, a young donkey, and says to them, “Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately as you enter it, you will find tied there a colt that has never been ridden; untie it and bring it” (Mark 11:2). Jesus also warns the disciples that they will be challenged when they try to take the colt. The answer the disciples are to give is “The Lord needs it and will send it back here immediately” (Mark 11:3). Jesus impresses the animal, the colt, as a king would who is entitled to whatever he needs; but, unlike, plundering kings, Jesus will return the animal immediately. Mark uses the term “immediately” approximately twenty-seven times. Scholars have taken note of this repeated occurrence and have surmised that Mark treats Jesus’ ministry as a process that removes hesitation as it strives to get to the crucifixion. Mark wants Jesus to get from point A to point B with haste. The disciples obey Jesus, and everything takes place as Jesus said it would.

Jesus orchestrates a grand entrance into Jerusalem. Mark writes, “Many people spread their cloaks on the road, and others spread leafy branches that they had cut in the fields. Then those who went ahead and those who followed were shouting, ‘Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David! Hosanna in the highest heaven!’ (Mark 11:8-10). This grand entrance—this triumphal entrance—of praise and respect is different than other entrances by Jesus. Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John record Jesus entering towns or villages either by walking everywhere or by using a boat to cross the lake. The decision to complete this last journey to Jerusalem riding on an animal, according to Hooker, “looks like some kind of claim to authority.” The colt Jesus chooses has never been ridden, which makes it suitable for a sacred purpose and worthy of a king—a kind of authority. Jesus enters Jerusalem as the acclaimed authoritative figure the people want him to be: a warrior, a fighter, and destroyer.

Mark reports that the disciples saddle the colt with their own garments, and the crowd strews the way with their garments. Jesus’ followers and those pilgrims caught up in the excitement of the moment also line the streets with leaves and waving palm branches and fill the air with a chorus of “Hosannas” (David E. Garland, 428). The idea of waving palm branches stems from a Jewish family, known as the Maccabees, who in 165BC forced the Greeks out of Jerusalem. When Simon Maccabee, the leader of the family, returned, it was reported that the people took palm branches and waved them in front of him as a sign of victory (Hamilton, 24 Hours That Changed The World, 70). Therefore, as Jesus entered Jerusalem, in a triumphal manner, it was fitting for the Jewish people to give him the same praise as they did to Simon Maccabee because they believed Jesus came to overthrow the Roman government that had seized Jerusalem—to give the people a triumphal victory. The people found their warrior so they waved palm branches and shouted “Hosannas” from the street. The people were fulfilling scripture when the Psalmist wrote, “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the LORD” (Psalm 118:26). Hosanna in the highest!

Hosanna is a word that is loosely translated as “Save us now!” So when the Jews waved palm branches as Jesus came down from the Mount of Olives, they were saying, “Jesus, be our deliverer. Save us from the Romans. Cast out our enemies, and free us from their awful oppression. Save us now. Save us now.” The Jews, through their adored “Hosannas” were shouting what many of us shout today. We seek to be saved. We seek to be born again, renewed, by the Holy Spirit. We seek to be delivered from our past. We seek a king that will overthrow those who persecute and trespass against us. We seek the same messiah that the Jews sought: a messiah that will save us now. Sometimes our perception of life is construed and we miss the meaning of what is actually happening around us. We give praise; we wave our palm branches, without knowing the real reason for our praise and waving. Have you ever given a triumphal entrance, but then realized your timing was a little bit off?

I am reminded of those commercials and shows that depict someone getting invited to a themed party. But when they arrive, their perception of the theme is not what the host intended. The person quickly realizes that their hotdog costume doesn’t quite go with the beach theme that everyone else seems to have understood. Or you throw a surprise party, only to have shouted surprise when the wrong person arrives. Jews had a perception of Jesus, but Jesus had a different theme in mind. Jesus would come to save the people, not by military might and destruction; but with love and peace. Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem was triumphal. But it is triumphal in another way. It marked the beginning of our triumphal entry into redemption and salvation—of being saved now.

On Day One of the Passion Week of Christ, Jesus enters with triumph and praise and “Hosannas.” But by the end of the week, people weren’t using the word triumph as they normally would have. Instead, triumph took on another form as did the word “Hosanna.” Triumph and Hosanna became spiritual and not so much physical. The person, who realized this, was the Centurion Soldier who stood at the foot of the cross on that dark and gloomy Friday afternoon. He realized that Jesus’ triumphal entry into death would lead to a triumphal exit into salvation. “Truly this man,” prayed the soldier, “is the Son of God.” This is what the Centurion Soldier has to say about Jesus’ triumphal exit.

It was a job for angry men—men who had been abused as boys and were comfortable with the dark parts of their mind. We would brutalize men, drive spikes into their hands and feet, gamble for their final earthly possessions, and watch them die. Then we would go home and have supper with our wives and children.

            It was about 8:30 in the morning when we led Jesus and the others to Calvary that day. I knew of Jesus, but didn’t really know Jesus. A friend stationed in Galilee told me how he had gone to Jesus and asked him to heal his servant. Jesus never even touched the servant; he merely spoke a word and the man was made well. My friend was convinced it was a miracle.

            My friend told me that Jesus was not like the typical would be messiahs. He wasn’t raising up an army to drive us out of the country. He taught the people to love their enemies, to pray for those who harassed them, and to turn the other cheek when struck. I told my friend that we could use a few more like him in Judea! Yet here he was, being marched to “the Skull”—the place of crucifixion—after having been beaten and bloodied by my men.

            As I looked at him—naked, the crown of thorns upon his brow—for the first time in a long time I felt a deep regret for what I was about to command my men to do. Yet this was my job, and he was just another Jew. Pushing back any semblance of compassion, I gave the order for them to nail him to the “tree.”

            I watched him throughout the day, listening as he spoke. He took the abuse hurled at him with dignity and strength. It was as if he, with his crown of thorns, really was king and we were his rebellious subjects, whose rebellion would soon be put to an end. Yet far from calling for our destruction, this king, being in pain and certainly being uncomfortable, prayed for our mercy. Remarkable.

            I watched as dark clouds rolled in at noon. An eerie feeling lingered for three hours. It was as if the heavens themselves were proclaiming the darkness of the deeds we were witnessing. Something felt dreadfully wrong. Then a small earthquake shook the ground. Some people fled in fear, terrified that this might be a sign from God.

            At three o’clock Jesus cried out, “I thirst.” One of the religious leaders surprised me by breaking away from his colleagues and gave Jesus a drink. Then Jesus said, “It is finished.” What a strange thing to say as he approached his death. This was a cry of victory, a man successfully completing a mission. Just before he breathed his last he gathered his strength, pulled himself up by the nails in his wrists, and said in a loud voice, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.” Then he bowed his head and gave up his spirit. It was the most remarkable death I’d ever seen, and I have seen many. I stood there looking at this man, and I was overwhelmed by a sense of fear. What had we done? As my men pierced him in the side, I turned to my men and said to them, “Surely this man was innocent. He was, as he claimed, the Son of God.” And for the first time in years, I wept. (Final Words, Adam Hamilton, 101-103)

Jesus’ last two statements from the cross were “It is finished,” and “Into your hands I commit my spirit.” The Gospels of Matthew and Mark tell us that, as Jesus breathed his last, Jesus cried out with a loud voice. Yet neither records what he said. John’s Gospel tells us that what Jesus said was, “It is finished.” Jesus told his disciples on multiple occasions that he was going to Jerusalem to die. As a matter of fact, Matthew 26:2 Jesus says, “I have come to Jerusalem to be crucified.” However, he did not come to Jerusalem to experience defeat.

When Jesus spoke these words he did not mean he was defeated. Rather, these words symbolize something astounding, amazing, and awesome was finished as Jesus died on the cross—“a masterpiece of love and redemption” was created (Final Words, Hamilton, 104). “It is finished” is a triumphal statement that has no end but only beginnings for what it is to come for you and for me. This statement encourage us to wave palm branches of love and forgiveness, to realize that there is still work to be done; because the cross does not have the final words. Needless to say, the cross is the climax of the story, not the end. John speaks of it as the moment of Jesus’ triumphal glorification. He is glorified on the cross because the cross is the moment in which God gives himself, through his only Son, to save us, God’s creatures: to raise up a “Hosanna”; the moment in which God convicts us of sin, reveals to us the costliness of grace, takes up the sins of the world, and shows us what love looks like so that we might follow in living lives of sacrificial love. On the cross we see our brokenness and God’s grace. We see our need to be loved and God’s expression of love. We see a picture of how we are meant to live our lives from this time forward. From the cross, we do not experience the end of something, but the beginning of something new. Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem, exemplifies his triumphal exit into new beginnings.

These new beginnings lead to recognize that Jesus is our redeemer, our savior, our high priest, our paschal and atoning lamb. He is our liberator and the king who is willing to die for his people. He is the one who has come in the name of the Lord. “Hosanna in the highest!” He has come to “save us now!” Jesus has come to encourage us to do his will through the works of the Holy Spirit.

This leads us to the final statement which Jesus speaks from the cross: words of salvation. Luke 23:44-47 states, ^“It was now about noon, and darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon, while the sun’s light failed; and the curtain of the temple was torn in two.  Then Jesus, crying with a loud voice, said, ‘Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.’ Having said this, he breathed his last.  When the centurion saw what had taken place, he praised God and said, ‘Certainly this man was innocent.’” At the end of his life, Jesus offered one final prayer: “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.” These final words of victorious triumph are from Psalm 31: 1-5: “In you, O Lord, I seek refuge; do not let me ever be put to shame; in your righteousness deliver me. Incline your ear to me; rescue me speedily. Be a rock of refuge for me, a strong fortress to save me. You are indeed my rock and my fortress; for your name’s sake lead me and guide me, take me out of the net that is hidden for me, for you are my refuge. Into your hand I commit my spirit; you have redeemed me, O Lord, faithful God.”

This was Jesus’ dying prayer. This was Jesus’ final prayer here on earth. This was Jesus’ “Hosanna.” It was a prayer of absolute trust in God (Proverbs 3:5). He had forgiven his enemies, offered mercy to a thief, prayed for his mother, come to a place where he felt abandoned by God, and expressed his physical thirst; but before his death, he declared the shout of triumph, “I commit my spirit to you, Father.” On the cross, Jesus again was teaching us how to pray. When we’re facing darkness and despair, when we’re facing the valley of the shadow of death, when we’re facing the unknown, what should we pray? We should pray, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.”

When we pray these words, we are remembering the message of the cross; we are remembering the words of Christ; and we are remembering that the cross does not have the final words. There are words of triumph waiting on the horizon to be felt and embodied. Are you willing to continue what Jesus started when you rode into Jerusalem—when people shouted “Hosannas” and waved palm branches? Are you willing to have a triumphal new beginning after Jesus says, “It is finished. Father, into your hands I commit my spirit”?

Conclusion:

            The entry into Jerusalem is not triumphal as the Jews were expecting: authoritative, powerful, and filled with political might over the Romans. Jesus does not enter Jerusalem exhibiting proper kingship. He does not brandish a series of war trophies, and a train of captives does not trial behind him. In fact, within the next few days, Roman guards will lead him out of the city as a defeated captive and he will be crucified. Consequently, Jesus does not share the disciple’s earthly fantasies of glory. He can never be defeated. He appears in the city to suffer and die. He comes as a king who will be crowned with thorns, enthroned on a cross, and hailed as the chief of fools. His entrance points to a different kind of triumph; and this was realized by the Centurion Soldier who said, “Truly, this man was God’s Son” (Mark 15:39).

Jesus is the one who came in the name of the LORD. Jesus is the one who has triumphed over sin, hatred, and death. Jesus is the one who conquered the cross. Jesus is the one who deserves the continuous waving of palm branches. Jesus is the one who gives us the ability to triumph over our sins. Jesus is the one who died on the cross and saves us now. Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem leads to a triumphal exit that has given us love, grace, and salvation. Now is the time to shout “Hosanna” and to commit your spirit to the LORD. Are you ready for a new beginning? Are you ready for Jesus to enter your life with triumphal love and salvation? Are you ready to praise his name when he is resurrected on Easter morning? “Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest heaven!” Are you ready for the triumph of Jesus Christ?

Closing Prayer:

            Let us Pray… Dear Heavenly Father, we commit our spirit to you knowing that our work is not finished, that we have been called to create triumphal moments in the lives of all those around us. The cross does not have the last word and it certainly does not defeat the love and salvation of your Son. Help us to shout Hosanna! Help us to wave our palm branch! And help us to see your victory. In your name we pray. Amen.

Benediction:

As you remember the triumphal entry, as you wave your palm branch of victory, as you commit your spirit to the Father, remember your work on this earth is not done, it is not finished. Jesus finished his mission so that we can start ours. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, go, transforming lives as you live well and wisely in God’s world. Amen. Amen. Amen.