The city was buzzing.
People everywhere. It was
Passover Week, after all, and the pilgrims came from all around to celebrate
the feast in Jerusalem. Historians
figure the population swelled to ten times the normal number. And with all these people crowded in and
around, there must have been a certain energy.
But more. Rumors
spread through the crowds. But more than
rumors. News of a miracle. Something so amazing, so unusual, something
never heard of before – Lazarus, a man dead for four whole days – was raised
back to life by a rabbai named Jesus.
Maybe some of these people had heard of him before. The teacher from Galilee. The great prophet. He’d done some other miracles too, we
hear. Something about feeding 5000
people with miraculous fish and bread.
Some evil spirits who were cast out.
Oh, and the healings – we’ve heard the tales, yes. And maybe they’ve heard of other wise men or
prophets who could claim some miracles.
But this raising a man from the dead – this was another matter
altogether. This evoked question – could
they dare to ask – was this actually the Messiah?
And so the buzz in the air, the electricity sparked even
higher, as the crowds somehow spread the news that Jesus – this same Jesus –
was coming to Jerusalem from Bethany.
Only 2 mile journey, a short donkey ride down the hill. But long enough for the crowds to gather, for
them to grab their palm branches and assemble for this divine parade.
They name him rightly, “Son of David”. The cry out, “Save, us, now, Hosanna!” They spread their garments and cheer for
joy. It has the feel of a victory
parade, a welcome home party, the fanfare of a coronation.
But what no one in that crowd knew, was that in 6 days’
time, their Messiah would lie dead. That
very shortly, the tables would turn. He
would be mocked, not hailed as the “King of the Jews”. Instead of the plea, “save us”, the crowds
would jeer “save yourself, if you are the Son of God!” All the adulation would turn to derision. All the joy turned to sorrow. All the high hopes for messianic glory would
be dashed, their dreams of deliverance from Rome destroyed, and their
acclamations of “Hosanna” would seem to be left unanswered by the man who now
hung dead on a cross. Or so it would seem.
It is a bitter irony that the crowd welcomed Jesus so fervently
on Palm Sunday, and yet still didn’t know why he came. He came to suffer and die. They saw their own version of a Messiah, but
not the one he came to be.
Do we run the same danger?
Do we want a Messiah for our own purposes, our own agenda? Do we want a Jesus who rides into our life to
do our bidding? If we had that kind of
Messiah maybe we, too, would welcome him with fanfare. A Jesus who gets me what I want, gets me my
way, a Messiah who comes to crush my foes and bring me to easy street. A Messiah who perhaps confirms my
self-righteousness and self-indulgence.
A Messiah who asks nothing uncomfortable like repentance, and only ever
tells me what I want to hear.
Just after this passage, which ends at verse 19 – we have a
little account of some Greeks who came to see Jesus. Perhaps it happened that very same day, Palm
Sunday, in the temple. Or maybe a little
later in holy week. The Greeks came to
Phillip with this request, “Sir, we wish to see Jesus”. It’s a fascinating detail and sort of echoes
the gentiles who came from the East at the beginning of his life, looking for
the newborn king. Now, people come from
the West, looking for the same. The
crowds were delighted to see Jesus. The
Greeks wish to see Jesus. So how does
Jesus answer?
23 And Jesus answered them, “The hour has come for the
Son of Man to be glorified. 24 Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of
wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears
much fruit. 25 Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in
this world will keep it for eternal life. 26 If anyone serves me, he must
follow me; and where I am, there will my servant be also.
You want to see Jesus – Jesus paints them a word picture. A grain of wheat must fall into the ground
and die. Well, be buried. Jesus is comparing himself to that grain of
wheat. He has come to suffer, and die,
and be buried. That is his mission, and
his purpose. Not to reign over a kingdom
of this world like the kings of this world do.
Not to rule with an iron fist, or power and might, but to exercise divine
humility by becoming servant of all. To
humble himself unto death, even death on a cross. That’s the kind of Messiah you will see if
you wish to see Jesus, and see him truly.
But that grain of wheat – the story doesn’t end there. It sprouts and grows from the soil and new
life comes forth. First the grain, and
then the ear, then the full corn shall appear, the hymn puts it. It bears much fruit. Much more than the single grain that died, the
life is multiplied and perhaps made into bread even to feed hungry bellies and
sustain life.
So too for the Messiah.
His death may seem the end, but it is not. They put him in the tomb and sealed it with a
stone. But it could not hold him. Death itself gave way. The stone was rolled back. And the Messiah who died was raised to life
again. And from his new life comes much
fruit. New life for all who are in
him. A new creation in baptism, as we are
buried and raised with him. And new life
in his Supper, as he feeds us and sustains us with himself. Forgiveness, life, and salvation all
around. And a promise that even our own
death will give way to new life. We,
too, will conquer death and live forever.
This is how he is glorified.
This is how he is the Messiah. This
is how we see Jesus. And this is how he
answers the prayers of “Hosanna, save us!”
By dying and rising. And by
bringing us with him.
Whoever loves his life will lose it. That is, whoever hangs on for dear life to
the things of this world, this fallen and corrupt creation, this earthly life
that is passing away. This is the losing
path that has no life. The more tightly
you try to hang on, the more it slips through your fingers.
But whoever hates his life in this world will keep it
for eternal life. That is to
say, whoever despises his own sin and this sinful world, whoever puts no trust
in his own work, and only in Christ’s work, whoever lives not for the earthly
things but sets his mind on heavenly things, whoever repents of his sins and
turns in faith to Christ. Whoever receives
Jesus as Messiah on his own terms and not your terms – that’s the one who has
eternal life and keeps it.
If anyone serves me, he must follow me; and where I am,
there will my servant be also. Where Jesus goes, there we must also
go. To death, yes. Die to self and die to sin. We’ve already been there in the waters of
baptism, buried with Christ. We die to
sin every time we repent and return to those waters. We go with Jesus, following his cross and
taking up our own little crosses, whichever ones he has appointed for us to
bear. But it’s not all suffering and
death.
We follow Jesus also into life. Where I am, there will my servant be also. Jesus is alive. And so we live in him and with him. Jesus is with the Father. We come to the Father by him. He went through death and then on to
resurrection. We will follow where he
has gone. And that is a blessed promise
and a joyful hope.
That little request from the Greeks, “Sir, we wish to see
Jesus”, is sometimes written on the inside of the Christian pulpit – where
the pastor will see it each and every time he preaches. What a good reminder. We’re not here to share our opinion, our own
wisdom, or a string of funny stories.
We’re not here to give you a pep talk or a self-help program. We’re not even here to make you feel good. We want to see Jesus. We all want to see Jesus, who he is, what he
does for us.
For when we gather as a crowd, and pray that God would save
us, we, too, wish to see Jesus. We wish
to see him as he is – the Messiah who comes to die, and then to rise. The King of the Jews, and Savior of the
Nations. The one who calls us to follow
where he goes – and promises to be with us all the way through – even unto
death, and even more, unto resurrection.
A blessed Holy Week to you, as you see Jesus, and follow
him. Amen.
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