Expectations vs Reality = 0:10

Sermon on Matthew 21:1-11

Just 4 weeks ago, I got to know Pat and some other members of the altar guild. It was a sunny day and they were busy looking for all the props for Holy Week in the storage. Boxes were opened with candles and those little palms you usually use for Palm Sunday. I had never seen such fake palm leaves and at first wasn’t even sure what to do with them. We laughed a lot about my ignorance and ancient smelly candles and the 2 men from the storage company just looked at us as if we were from a distant planet. They definitely had things to tell at home that night.

There was excitement in the air about what was to come. Excitement for Holy Week. There were certain expectations about upholding Christ the King traditions.

Now, we are entering Holy Week and nothing is as we anticipated it to be. Reality just tricked us. No palm leaves today. We didn’t meet at Carlson Hall, not to speak in our sanctuary. We didn’t process in with the Processional Gospel. There are lots of “NO”s these days. 

Yet, it is the same old story as every year. About Jesus entering Jerusalem, the Holy City, for the first time. Riding on nothing less than a borrowed donkey. An animal praised for its willingness to serve. While people great him joyfully with Palms. Because he at least fulfills all the expectations. For now. The prophet Zechariah proclaimed the Messiah would enter town “humble, and mounted on a donkey, and on a colt, the foal of a donkey.” Jesus knew the Scripture. He knew which signs people needed to recognize him as who he was. So, he acted accordingly. So, that the crowd would recognize Jesus for who he is, the Son of David, who comes in the name of the Lord.

The crowd got the message. But they didn’t manage to tell people the truth about what they had just encountered. One minute they were screaming “Hosanna to the Son of David!” And the very next moment when asked “Who is this?”, they answered “The prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee.”

So, who is this now? The Son of David aka the Messiah? Or another prophet named Jesus? 

The confusion is pretty understandable. As much as we value humility in leaders, it’s not something we look for when choosing our leaders. There is this image of a strong, fierce, dedicated person. Usually male. Who leads his people to the promised land with the help of God. Who makes the economy grow and provides new jobs. Whom other countries respect and fear. Whom people cheer for and kids hand him flowers and then he picks up one sweet little girl and journalists take their picture and the world learns how humble this leader is to bend down to a little child and to give her some of his time. Even though the little girl probably doesn’t care and would rather want to play at the playground right now but her parents made her go and look cute. Because this is their chance to stand out of the crowd, too.

Well, Jesus seems to play into all of this. Except, that he leads his followers to his own crucifixion. Do they know that? They certainly could. He did tell them quite frankly and they chose not to listen and to stick to their own hopes and expectations. Jesus is the Messiah, so he will eventually reveal his power to everyone. He is the Son of God, so he won’t die. That’s what people expect. That the super-hero will free himself.

Palm Sunday opens this liminal space between Lent and Easter. The liminal space called Holy Week. When the events come thick and fast. When Jesus’ disciples went through all human emotions possible: From joyful exultation today to love and closeness on Maundy Thursday to fear and shock and awe and desperation on Good Friday to pure hopelessness for 3 full days. Until finally they learned that Jesus had risen from death. All of that in 1 week. What an emotional roller-coaster lies ahead of us today.

And for the first time in my life, I feel fully prepared for it. I got on board at least three weeks too early this year. And I am stuck between Palm Sunday and Holy Saturday. Going back and forth between hopeful anticipations and great optimism and the harsh reality that life is not at all anymore what it used to be. 

There is this internal expectation about myself: That I am able to embrace this whole situation as a holy chance, as a time of extended lent and repentance. I remember preaching to you and me 4 weeks ago, that I was determined to use this trial as a spiritual journey. And I still try to do it. But I am not holding up as well as I had hoped. I had great plans of structured days that would make everyone happy in the family. I thought that this forced shutdown would help me calm down and to really focus on what’s important. Even though at first it really felt like it. Just a week ago I claimed, that I had started to find some daily routine amidst the uncertainty. I collected beautiful moments and intentionally tried to stay all positive. It feels like my attempt to deny reality and to only see what I wanted to see, backfired. 

Instead, I am more distracted than ever. I often feel stressed for no obvious reason. And sometimes I am just unbelievably sad. I began to realize how deeply this situation effects me even though I am still pretty fortunate. This is no vacation, no retreat. This is a time of trial without knowing when it will end. This will be a long holy week for me personally. Because it will only partially end next Sunday. When we will celebrate Christ’s triumph over death. But this year, even Easter Sunday will be an anticipation of what we believe to be true. That Christ’s resurrection is life-giving. That it frees us physically, mentally, and emotionally from the bondage of fear. 

I need Holy week this year more than anything. I wait for Easter more than anything. And I know, that my personal Holy Week this year will take fully place when we are back in church together. When we are able to look back and put in words what we have gone through. 

Starting with Palm Sunday, just like today. With a procession that includes those little palm leaves that I have never seen anywhere else but at Christ the King. With a big feast for Maundy Thursday with lots of food and stories to tell and an abundant communion. And if you want a foot-washing, I will wash your feet. Promised. With a Good Friday of mourning and grieving and lamenting over everything and everyone we have missed and lost during that pandemic. And I will be happy with any candle you choose, Pat. Promised. And then Easter Sunday: With a blooming cross and true jubilation and a new sense of what resurrection means to us. With an Easter-egg hunt for everyone. Promised. 

One day, when we are back in church together. Changed and shaped by these times, resurrected into our physical community. At least, that’s what I expect to happen. Only God knows if that is how it will be. All we know is that God will be there with us. Humble. Ready to walk with us wherever we are. 

And, speaking of twisted expectations. Our hymn of the day is “Joy to the World”. Listen to it as if you didn’t expect it to be a hymn between Advent and Christmas. And you will hear that this the perfect hymn for Palm Sunday. Let me know next year if you want this to be a new Christ the King tradition. Amen.