Page 1 of 8

Luke 19.28-40

Luke 19.28-40

Sunday, April 1, 2007

Palm Sunday

Shelton, WA

Undignified

There’s a story in the Old Testament that I just love. In a way it’s very similar to what’s happening here in Luke. Both take place while coming into the city of Jerusalem. Both involve a procession of sorts. Both include elements of worship. And both seem toupset some of the folks who were there.

David had just become king of Israel. Saul was dead. Jerusalem was conquered. The nation of Israel was unified and strong and expanding. It was a good day… a good time to be king. Things were definitely lookingup forDavid; and for that matter, all of Israel.

God had blessed David as he fled from Saul, and God continued to bless David as became king of Israel. God had been with David in the tough times, and God was with him now in the good times as well. God was guiding and directing his every step. God was to David a lamp to his feet and a light for his path. And now that David had come to the great city of Jerusalem, David wanted to honor God by bringing the ark of the Lord—the symbol of God’s power and presence—into that city.

Well, after a small set back—about three month and bit of a tiff with Godwhen some dude died after touching the ark—David finally brought the ark of the Lordinto the city of Jerusalem. It was agood day… a very happy day; one filled with joy and celebration, singing and dancing. The Bible says, “David was dancing before the Lord with all his might, while he and the entire house of Israel were bringing up the ark of the Lord with shouts and the sound of trumpets” (2 Samuel 6.14).

Sounds a bit like the scene in Luke, doesn’t it? Marching into Jerusalem, leading a great procession of worshipers, the air filled with shouts of joy and praise. Luke says that as they came near to Jerusalem, “The whole crowd of disciples began joyfully to praise God in loud voices for all the miracles they had seen.” Sounds like a party… a time of celebration… a time to be happy.

But the truth is, not everyone was happy. As a matter of fact, the Pharisees were pretty unhappy. They were pretty much upset about the whole commotion… the whole deal. Dancing in the streets… shouts of joy and praise for some carpenter on a donkey… come one, get real. No, not everyone there on that day was happy with Jesus.

Not everyone was happy withDavid, either. Not everyone thought David acted very respectable. Not everyone thought David presented a proper image of what a king should look like… of how a king should act… or, for that matter, how a king should conduct himself in worship.

It’s funny (or maybe it’s just sad) how some people seem to have this irresistible compulsion to always want to project their own personal images and expectations of how things should look, or how people should act. And then, when people don’t fit those images or live up to those expectations, they get all bent out of shape.

The Pharisees nearly blew a fuse, “Teacher, rebuke your disciples!” In other words, “They’re not acting proper. They’re not being very dignified. Don’t they know how they’re supposed to act? Rebuke them for not acting right… for not acting like us.”

For David it was Saul’s daughter, his own wife, Michal, who nearly blew a fuse. Who knows, maybe growing up with Saul as her father she got this image stuck in her head of what a king was supposed to look like… of how a king was supposed to act… of how a king was supposed to be—prim and proper and dignified… suite and tie and all that. Maybe she had a picture of how David should act now that he was king of Israel instead of her father. And, you know, I’m suredancing around in his underwear didn’t fit that image.

When David (the man after God’s own heart) comes into his own home—no doubt still dancing and singing… still filled with the excitement of the experience… still walking six inches off the ground—when David returns to his home to bless his household, Michal daughter of Saul came out to meet him and said, “How the king of Israel has distinguished himself today, going around half-naked in full view of the slave girls of his servants as any vulgar fellow would!”Bent out of shape… fuse blown…

Do you know how David answered her? Do you know what David—king of Israel, man after God’s own heart—said? Well, he said, “I will become even more undignified than this, and I will be humiliated in my own eyes” (2 Samuel 6.22).

Undignified… you know, there’s something about the idea of being undignified that just seems right. It just seems like maybe part of the struggle we face in our walk with Christ is that we’ve become too dignified. Maybe we need to become more humiliated in our own eyes. Maybe we need a little less dignity and a little more humility.

You know, I looked up the word “dignity” in the dictionary. Do you know what it said? Well it said dignity is:the quality of being worthy of esteem or honor; worthiness… high repute; honor… the degree of worth, repute, or honor… a high position, rank, or title… loftiness.

Now to me that doesn’t sound very Christ-like. That doesn’t sound very much like what Jesus is talking about when he said, blessed are the poor, and the hungry, and those who weep. It doesn’t sound very much like what Paul was talking about when he said, “You should have the same attitude of mind that Christ Jesus had: Who, being very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used for his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a human being, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death—even death on a cross!”

To me that sounds pretty undignified. There’s no dignity in being nailed to a cross. There’s no dignity in being a servant. There’s no dignity in humbling yourself to the point of becoming nothing. There’s no dignity in any of that.

Yet that is exactly what Jesus did. He became (in the eyes of the world) undignified. Andthat is exactly what we are to become. We are called to be like Jesus. In a world that places so much emphasis on rank and position, honor and esteem… in a world that venerates and valuesworthiness and loftiness… in a world that defines dignity as the elevation of self… we are all called to become undignified.

Yesterday Deanna and a group of helpers went up to the Church of the Undignified. They went up there to get dirty… to clean toilets… to scrape filthy walls and floor-boards. They went up to tear down and build up… to bring furniture… to fix plumbing… to hang dry-wall. They went up there to paint… make curtains… install carpet… pull nails. They went up there to work.

But really, they went up there for something more… they just didn’t know it. They went up there to become a part of a movement… a part of movement far bigger than just a District Work Project… far bigger than simply a work day. They went up there to become a part of the kingdom of God as it pushes its way… as it fights and claws its way into the lives of the invisible and the unnoticed… the forgotten and the forsaken… the rejected… as it struggles to take root in the lives of the undignified.

The name of the project is, “Hope House”—because that’s what they offer… hope. They offer hope to the down-and-outers… to the disenfranchised… to the drug-addicts. They offer hope because, really, that’s all they have to give. Like Peter they say, “Silver and gold I do not have, but what I do have I give you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk.” They offer hope because, ultimately—when it’s all said and done—that’s whatpeople really need anyway.

Hope—it’s what we celebrate; it’s why we celebrate. It’s what filled the hearts of the disciples as they joyfully praised God in loud voices on the road leading to Jerusalem. It’s what filled the heart of David as he danced with all his might before the ark of the Lord.

Hope is what Jesus came to bring. The hope that one day all things would be made new… that one day every tear would be wiped away, all sorrow banished, all pain done away with, all heart-ache and brokenness made whole and new and rich.

The hope that one day there would be a New Jerusalem, a new heaven and a new earth… where death would be no more… where mourning and crying would all passed away.

The hope that one day there is coming a day when the sun and the moon will no longer need to shine because the glory of God will be our light, and Jesus Christ will be our lamp, and all people everywhere will walk by this light.

That’s the hope Jesus came to bring—a hope that could change the disciple’s world. That’s the hope that Jesus calls each one of us to walk in… to make a reality in our torn and tattered world. That’s the hope of the undignified. That’s my hope. That’s our hope. And a hope like that would cause even the stones to cry out.

We acclaim you, holy Lord, glorious in power. Your mighty works reveal your wisdom and love. You formed us in your own image, giving the whole world into our care, so that, in obedience to you, our Creator, we might rule and serve all your creatures. When our disobedience took us far from you, you did not abandon us to the power of death. In your mercy you came to our help, so that in seeking you we might find you. Again and again you called us into covenant with you, and through the prophets you taught us to hope for salvation.

Father, you loved the world so much that in the fullness of time you sent your only Son to be our Savior. Incarnate by the Holy Spirit, born of the Virgin Mary, he lived as one of us, yet without sin. To the poor he proclaimed the good news of salvation; to prisoners, freedom; to the sorrowful, joy. To fulfill your purpose he gave himself up to death; and, rising from the grave, destroyed death, and made the whole creation new.

And, that we might live no longer for ourselves, but for him who died and rose for us, he sent the Holy Spirit, his own first gift for those who believed, to complete his work in the world, and to bring to fulfillment the sanctification of all.

When the hour had come for him to be glorified by you, his heavenly Father, having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end; at supper with them he took bread, and when he had given thanks to you, he broke it, and gave it to his disciples, and said, “Take, eat: This is my Body, which is given for you. Do this for the remembrance of me.”

After supper he took the cup of wine; and when he had given thanks, he gave it to them, and said, “Drink this, all of you: This is my Blood of the new Covenant, which is shed for you and for many for the forgiveness of sins. Whenever you drink it, do this for the remembrance of me.”

Father, we now celebrate this memorial of our redemption. Recalling Christ’s death and his descent among the dead, proclaiming his resurrection and ascension to your right hand, awaiting his coming in glory; and offering to you, from the gifts you have given us, this bread and this cup, we praise you and we bless you.

Lord, we pray that in your goodness and mercy your Holy Spirit may descend upon us, and upon these gifts, sanctifying them and showing them to be holy gifts for your holy people, the bread of life and the cup of salvation, the Body and Blood of your Son Jesus Christ.

Grant that all who share this bread and cup may become one body and one spirit, a living sacrifice in Christ, to the praise of your Name.

Remember, Lord, your one holy universal and apostolic Church, redeemed by the blood of your Christ. Reveal its unity, guard its faith, and preserve it in peace.

We praise you, and give you glory through your Son Jesus Christ our Lord. Through Christ, and with Christ, and in Christ, all honor and glory are yours, Almighty God and Father, in unity of the Holy Spirit, for ever and ever. Amen.

And now, as our Savior Christ has taught us, we are bold to say,

John GrantPage 110/17/2018