Text:
Mark
14:1-11
Focus:
Holy Week Worship
Function:
To help people consider the events of passion week, worship and be
connected to God.
Form:
Storytelling
Intro:
I love to imagine the
events of Palm Sunday, nearly 2,000 years ago.
I picture an early
Spring, a warm day, clear skies and an huge crowd of well-wishers who
have genuine and real hope.
I envy those people who
were the only people in history to be living with, walking with,
eating with and rejoicing with Jesus, their Savior.
We know that these were
a people who were hard-pressed by the Roman powers that have occupied
their lands and have imposed taxes so heavy on them that for most of
them, they have little to eat, little to wear, and very few comforts.
All the rest of their income is being sent away to a government whose
claims to be giving them “peace.” But the “peace” they
experience is for them to submit to this bondage, or face death. And
it isn't just a clean, relatively painless death, but it is death on
a Roman Cross, one of the worse tortures that mankind has ever
invented. The empire said “follow our `peace,' or die ugly.”
And yet, we see Jesus
coming to them. They know that Jesus is something completely
different than their own religious leaders.
Jesus loves them. Jesus
heals them. Jesus cares for them. The rumors about His power have now
come true because for this crowd, just a few days before, in a city
just a few miles away, Jesus
has given back life to a man who had been dead four days. In so
doing, Jesus signs his own death warrant.
They may not have had
email, telephones, Facebook, or twitter to spread the news, but let
me tell you, the gossip traveled fast. The Religious leaders who felt
threatened by Jesus were all but in a panic about Jesus. They didn't
have an answer for the fact that He was performing some pretty
spectacular miracles.
Moses was born to lead
Israel. But he was only human and he messed up. At
40 years of age, he took matters into his own hands, killed an
Egyptian and had to flee for his life. The Jews knew who he was,
but when he was 40, they rejected him as leader. So now he was gone,
out of sight for 40 years. And God sends him back to deliver God's
people from their slavery. God told Moses “I
have seen the suffering of my people and it is time for me to do
something about it.”
God sees our suffering.
This time the people
were not likely to reject their leader so quickly. They saw Jesus as
a new Moses. Even Moses prophesied that another great prophet
would come. A
prophet who was equal with Moses in power and authority. He would
be a prophet who would establish a new covenant with God and the
Jews.
The people were
excited. Jesus came at just the time that the prophet Daniel said He
would come. Their hope was renewed.
And on that, as I
imagine it, clear, spring-time Sunday morning, a week before their
most important festival and crowds were beginning to fill the city
from all over the world, on that morning the Savior rides into town
and the people come out in droves. Finally, they allow themselves a
chance to experience hope.
Hope is a powerful
thing. It can take people through the worst circumstances. And these
people were in a bad place.
To them, maybe, the
years of suffering were over. Just as Moses demonstrated God's power
against a nation that had enslaved the Jewish people for 400 years,
Jesus was going to do the same thing. That was their hope.
I wonder if they hoped
that Jesus would appear before Pilate and tell him to let his people
go?
Did they imagine that
God would send the 10 plagues on the cities of the Roman occupation
and leave the Jews exempt? Would God bring down the entire Roman
empire?
I can imagine the
excitement and speculation in the buzz among the people that day.
How sad that the people
did not know of the sinister plot against Jesus!
It was a sinister plot
brought directly on Jesus, and therefore indirectly on them, by the
people who were entrusted with their care.
As always, we see that
a mob can be easily swayed and manipulated. History has shown that
time and time again.
The crowd that day was
shouting out “Hosanna!”
The direct translation
is: “Lord, Save us”
They knew that those
cries were direct rebellion against the Roman oppressors. And they
had enough hope to risk it.
How sad. They were
betrayed by their own leaders who were more concerned for their own
power and wealth than the welfare of the people they were entrusted
to protect.
Of course, we know that
it was all in God's plan.
The triumph of that
moment was real, but the Salvation that was to come was spiritual,
not political.
And on the human side
of it all, it became a tragedy.
Jesus was betrayed,
then He was abandoned, and then He was crucified.
The mob, the fickle
mob, cried out “Lord, Save us” on Sunday and then cried out
“Crucify Him” on Friday.
And that is what
happened on passion week, the week we -celebrate is too strong a
word, the week we remember in worship this week.
Last week we mentioned
the significance of the Lenten fast. It is not a command and it is
only something you should do if you feel compelled to do. It doesn't
make us better Christians.
But the idea is that
Jesus suffered. And Jesus calls us to take up our crosses as well.
Holy Week provides
several opportunities to do that.
First. I hope you have
been doing some sort of devotional every day. (HOLD UP)
Here is the Lenten devotional guide. If you have laxed on using it
during Lent, try to make sure you use it this week.
I believe that it is
important that we experience a connection to Jesus and what He has
done or us. And that takes some sort of discipline. It takes
intentional action.
There
were two smaller miracles that week. They were miracles of providence
and miracles of preparation. On Palm Sunday, Jesus told two of the
disciples to head into town and take a baby donkey that would be tied
up there. If anyone questions them, just tell them “The
master needs it.” Apparently God had prepared someone's heart
to lend Jesus the donkey.
And
on the night of the last supper, the night Jesus was betrayed a
similar incident happened. Jesus told two disciples to
show up at a certain house and do the final preparations for the
passover feast in the upper room. And the miracle was that God had
laid it on the heart of that person beforehand to prepare the place.
God
calls our heart to Jesus this week. And our intentional action
prepares the way for it.
This happened the night
Jesus was sold for 30 pieces of silver.
And a re-creation of
that event will happen here this Thursday.
I want to beg you to
come, but that would be manipulative.
So, let me strongly
encourage you to come here for Thursday night's worship. Let me call
you to intentional action to connect to this worship service that is
designed to placed us right there in the room with Jesus. It is
designed to connect us with Him.
It is open to everyone.
It is a beautiful and solemn ceremony. It is a chance for us to act
out what must have been in the minds of the disciples that night.
We will begin with a
chance to wash each other's feet. Men on one side, women on the
other.
When that is over, we
will enjoy a simple meal of meat, bread, and broth. It is a symbolic
meal. It is a form of the ancient passover meal that the Jews
celebrated.
And then, we partake of
the bread and the wine, or in our case, juice and bread, we call this
“Full Communion.” It is full, or complete, because when Jesus
speaks these words in John 13, it doesn't come out well in the
translation, but the promise is this, “Happy are you, when you do
ALL of these things.” In our obedience to scripture, we too,
practice communion in this fashion.
Some people will say,
“washing someone else's feet seems sort of grotesque.” It does.
But, it is also a privilege.
Love and Lent
How
my faith was formed in the midst of betrayal
"I
saw him in the parking lot with her. I think he wanted to get
caught," my mom's hushed voice bleeds with betrayal. Unlike most
gossip, this conversation doesn't have the quality of a listener,
hungry for salacious trivialities. The whole house feels on edge, as
I sit on the couch in an adjoining room, straining to hear.
I'm
fifteen years old. I missed church that Sunday morning, but I'm
catching up with what happened in the service through my mom's
one-sided phone conversations. The instant mom hangs up the phone it
rings again. She's in a t-shirt and shorts, walking back and forth
with bare feet on the cork kitchen tile, reciting assorted facts and
collecting others.
The
bits and pieces come together. Our pastor had an affair and confessed
it in his sermon. He stood up in front of the church and let the
gathered members know that he had succumbed to temptation, but he was
ready to just "move on."
The
shocked congregation is not so ready to just move on. They want
details. They demand to know exactly what had happened, how long, and
with whom. The elders and the pastor schedule a meeting for that
evening. As the sun goes down, my father leaves for the gathering of
leaders.
My
mother paces the kitchen a few more times. Instead of grabbing the
phone again, she picks up a big basin and places our plushest guest
towels inside of it. Then she yells out to the quiet house, "Carol!
Let's go!"
The
warm Florida night swells with the sound of crickets singing and
waves crashing as we drive for about a half an hour, over a bridge,
from the beach to the mainland, to our pastor's home. When we pull up
to driveway, the house is dark. My determined mom still gathers the
basin and towels and rings the doorbell.
I
don't remember being let in. I just recall entering and seeing
Margaret, our pastor's wife, sitting on a chair in her living room.
She remains motionless in the dark room, in her beautiful home,
staring at her lavish, white carpet, breathing deeply.
My
mother takes the basin, walks into her friend's kitchen, and fills it
with warm water. She carries it to Margaret's feet, taking off
Margaret's shoes, she cradles her soles as if they are the most
precious things in the world. Without a word, mom puts them in the
water and washes them.
Margaret
begins to cry and it doesn't take long before the tears smear all of
our faces. Mom takes Margaret's feet out and dries them on the soft
towels. Throughout the entire ritual, we don't talk, but we know
what's being said. I even understand the depth of it, at my young
age. Margaret is about to face some of the worst public betrayal, as
people began to pick apart the indiscretions of her husband.
Privately,
people make extremely difficult decisions to work through a spouse's
unfaithfulness everyday. When it happens publicly, the betrayal
magnifies. The most intimate facts of this affair would be drawn out
for everyone. Margaret's character will even be questioned. And
people will whisper about how they would never put up with such a
thing. Some will even wonder if Margaret is the reason. Perhaps she
was too frigid, and he had to find love elsewhere.
In
the midst of the painful exposure, Margaret would sort out what she
was going to do about her marriage. While hearing more details than
she ever wanted to, she would have to evaluate everything in her
life--her friends, the lies, her reputation, her pride, her children,
and her financial situation.
Mom
wanted Margaret to know one thing in the midst of it. Margaret
would be cherished, even to the end of her toes.
My
faith was formed that evening, not by the bitter betrayals, but in
the love of the women. I think about that night each Lent, as we walk
toward that treacherous path with Jesus. I recall how Mary took
Jesus' feet, baptized them with her tears and perfume. She prepared
Jesus for his death, not just with the costly ointments, but with the
ritual that let him know that no matter what sort of trials he would
face, he would do it realizing the love that soaked his skin.
Jesus
said that whenever we spoke of the good news, we would do it in
memory of her. So as I walk along this season, trudging the journey
with the man of sorrows, I remember the reality of betrayal, but I
tell the story with her memory. I think of all the times that the
love had the ability to bathe toxic days and allow us to face
injustice and cruelty.
It
may be gross to some. To others, the harder part is not washing
someone else's feet, but allowing our own feet to be washed. It takes
genuine humility to allow another person to serve you. But Jesus
gave us an example. We all know how important the bread and cup is
and I want to remind us all that Jesus places similar importance on
these other two rituals, the agape meal and foot-washing during the
communion service.
Let
me invite you to this service. I believe it is very important.
I believe it is as important as Christmas and Easter worship
services. The reason it is important is because it gives the
worshiper the opportunity to be there. We sang that song “Were you
there?” this morning. There is something special about re-creating
those events that makes the Passion of Jesus come alive to us.
I
know that for some, it is physically impossible to bend down. And for
some there are other reasons why they feel that they cannot do the
foot washing part of the service. Do not let that stop you from
coming and participated in both the Triumph and the Tragedy of
Christ. If you can't you will not be judged. All you have to do is
simply back away from the table and we will respect your wishes.
But
please come and join with us in this beautiful and solemn worship
service.
