I also remember when Lou showed up at church the first time. The congregation was still very small - probably around 20 or 25 so it was easy to spot the first timers. After talking with him for a few minutes I knew he could handle "the hot seat." My heart was so on fire with the mission of building this new worship community that I was completely consumed with making those who had been beaten up with "religion" feel comfortable, safe and loved. If I didn't ask, how could I know if we were on the right track??
I asked all the things he said I did and probably more. I remember telling him that if he didn't want to answer things - if I was being too personal - he could just tell me to shut up. He kept answering. He was honest with me. I remember thinking that night that there were areas we should immediately improve on based on the answers he was giving me.
That Palm Sunday evening we were a motley congregation of broken people, looking for a little bit of peace with God. There weren't any kids in the congregation yet so I knew that asking these adults to wave their palm fronds and sing "Hosanna" was going to be uncomfortable. It was. They looked embarrassed and not real enthused as we opened the service in the traditional Palm Sunday manner. Our Bible reading that night was from Matthew 21:
When they neared Jerusalem, having arrived at Bethphage on Mount Olives, Jesus sent two disciples with these instructions: "Go over to the village across from you. You'll find a donkey tethered there, her colt with her. Untie her and bring them to me. If anyone asks what you're doing, say, 'The Master needs them!' He will send them with you."
The disciples went and did exactly what Jesus told them to do. They led the donkey and colt out, laid some of their clothes on them, and Jesus rode. Nearly all the people in the crowd threw their garments down on the road, giving him a royal welcome. Others cut branches from the trees and threw them down as a welcome mat. Crowds went ahead and crowds followed, all of them calling out, "Hosanna to David's son!" "Blessed is he who comes in God's name!" "Hosanna in highest heaven!"
As he made his entrance into Jerusalem, the whole city was shaken. Unnerved, people were asking, "What's going on here? Who is this?"
The parade crowd answered, "This is the prophet Jesus, the one from Nazareth in Galilee."
My sermon that night was about how ridiculous it feels to be a follower of Jesus. How silly it feels to wave palm branches. How it doesn't feel like the smartest decision to follow someone who's all about stirring up trouble and will be dead in less than a week. I talked about how Jesus was always asking his followers to do things for reasons that were completely obscure to them. About how everywhere Jesus went all he did was stir up turmoil.
I said that that those two words from Scripture – "shaken" and "unnerved" – were descriptions that we needed for ourselves and our new community that night. We needed to be woken up, shoved out of our comfort zones and broken wide open so that we could learn what it might mean to be truly alive. We had become a community of people who were comfortably numb. We had isolated ourselves to keep pain and conflict at bay, but had also insulated ourselves from really living, learning and loving.
As I think about those words from six years ago, I still believe that. I also know that I'm preaching to myself now. I've retreated behind those same walls of safety, predictability and status-quo that so many of us have. I don't feel the particular connection with God that I once did.
Maybe Holy Week 2009 can be an opportunity to become a bit shaken and unnerved.
Where did God go when I went into my self-protective mode? Right where God always was. I'm the one who moved.
1 comment:
Thank you. I miss hearing that message from you. This is one of the reasons that Palm Sunday became important to me. I never understood it previously, only knowing a damning God. it can be an interesting week. Luv YA!
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