The Rev. Joseph Farnes
All Saints, Boise
Palm Sunday
When we read about the disciples falling away as Christ walks the way of the cross, we hope that we wouldn’t be like Peter – that we would be smarter than to proclaim loudly that we’d follow Jesus wherever he goes but then immediately wilt and fail under pressure. These apostles, these messengers of the Kingdom of God, they deny and abandon Jesus.
The conventional read of these disciples is that they’re afraid for their lives. They’re afraid that the political and religious authorities will turn the weapons of the law, the weapons of law enforcement, the weapons of courts and judges against them. The apostles see just how unjust the judges are, how cruel the religious and political police are, and how fickle the crowd’s affections are. Jesus is arrested under the flimsiest of pretenses – but that’s perfectly legal in the Roman Empire. Jesus is abused by those sent to arrest him – but he’s a poor criminal, so he doesn’t deserve respect and human dignity. Jesus is convicted in proceedings that are far from fair and sentenced to die – but because the powers that be have decided it, it must be legal and just.
And yes, the disciples were terrified. The King they had heralded in a triumphal procession at the beginning of the week was being crushed under the force of the Roman Imperial government by the end. Did they expect that a healer who casts out demons and proclaims Good News to the oppressed and feeds the masses to pivot to a war machine? Did they expect him to switch and take up weapons and play by the Roman Empire’s playbook instead of following the Way of the Kingdom of God? Apparently so.
Perhaps, in addition to fear, we should see another emotion in these disciples’ faces: embarrassment. What might they have been embarrassed about?
Embarrassed that they’d bought into these teachings of Jesus. Yeah, yeah, he kept speaking about caring for the poor, healing the sick, and lifting up the oppressed, but really his goal was supposed to be about restoring Israel to its glory and overthrowing Rome, right? How embarrassing that Jesus really did mean what he preached.
Embarrassed that they’d followed this person of Jesus all across the region. They’d been hoping for seats of honor in the Messiah’s new regime, and here this Messiah was, being dragged off to be crucified as a common rebel. Now that he’s just a criminal, who wants that?
Embarrassed that they’d bought into the hype. Once the crowds had turned on him, it was clear that Jesus was cringe. Following Jesus would make them weird – he’s passe, yesterday’s news, and the reality of the Roman Empire’s military power crushed this dream. Instead of being hopeful, it’s obviously better to be cynical and just give up. Whoever has the most power wins, and it’s better to be on the side of the powerful than to be amongst the crucified.
Now the scandal of the cross becomes clear. As Paul says in his first letter to the Corinthians, the cross is a stumbling-block and foolishness. The cross is a stumbling-block because we want a victorious Messiah who never knows defeat, and whose coattails we can cling to without any risk on our own. The cross is foolishness because we want to win, we want glory and victory.
But the truth of the cross does not follow the rules of the world, the rules we follow. God opens up and empties, taking our full humanity on in Jesus Christ. Fully human, fully divine. Not clinging to power and glory, but taking the lowest place – and going lower than that. Taking the form of a rejected human being, taking a form that embarrasses us. He took the form of a slave in washing the feet of his disciples – and we remember that on Maundy Thursday. He took the form of a criminal in being legally executed by the lawful authorities on Good Friday. He took the form of our death itself.
He takes upon himself our shame, our embarrassment. He is mocked by the soldiers, mocked by the crowds, mocked by the absence of his own disciples who are seemingly too embarrassed and fearful to stand near him. He is mocked by governors and kings and clergy. Jesus is mocked – Jesus takes upon himself our embarrassment.
He takes on our embarrassment at actually believing the Gospel – that God loves us so much that God would take on our human flesh in Jesus Christ, to live among us, to preach Good News to overturn the heartlessness of the world, to heal and restore the downtrodden, to suffer at our own hands and to die out of pure, perfect love, to wash us clean in his blood and to give us new birth in his eternal life and to anoint us as his own.
Because the world has long been embarrassed by Jesus. They want a Jesus who loves only a certain handful, who overlooks their grievous wrongdoing but magnifies the sins of the wicked. They want a Jesus who will let them stand gleefully victorious as they look on the suffering of others. They want a Jesus who will let them have their pleasure in private piety while closing their hearts to the needs of the many and the needs of those who are different from them.
The world is not embarrassed by that Jesus – that’s why they invented that depiction of Jesus. The world is too embarrassed to follow the Jesus of the Gospels.
But we who earnestly want to walk the way of the cross, we want to follow the Jesus proclaimed in the Gospels and shared through the centuries. We want to follow the true Jesus – that Jesus, the Jesus who was crucified, died, and buried … and who rose again on the third day. This Jesus, this Jesus who takes on our embarrassment, our littleness, our failures, our foolishness and stumbling, this Jesus is the only lord, the only savior, the only Messiah, the only rightful king. None other than him. To follow him may make us an embarrassment in the eyes of the world, but the judgment of the world means far, far less to us than the love of Jesus Christ. The love of Jesus Christ is worth it all – worth the risk, worth the fear, worth the embarrassment. And he pours out that love abundantly on the cross. Let us follow him. Amen.