April 9, 2006  Palm/Passion Sunday    

Mark 11:1-11

Pastor Gary E. Benson                     

Zumbro Lutheran Church, Rochester, Minnesota

 

                            The Sounds and Silence of Expectation

Life is a constant confrontation/flow/river of expectations. From our health, to our relationships, to our work, to our hopes for the future, expectations fill our mind and thoughts.  Some expectations are seemingly minor yet anticipated (Spring -- “Thank God for the promise of Springtime”), joyful. Others shape the very spirit/tone and direction of our life.

 

The tornados this past week in Tennessee, over a dozen twisters tearing apart homes and businesses, left individuals and families literally homeless.  Hundreds of lives changed in a moment/instant.  Ordinary folks like you and me wondering how do you put your life back together. What do you do? Where do you go?  What kinds of expectations for any level of normalcy are realistic?

 

The war this past week in Iraq — another deadly week of confrontations and killings — lives being ended, being changed forever. Still amidst the chaos and loss, small glimmers of hope. What kinds of expectations are realistic or attainable?

 

And closer to home are the deaths of Nikki and Nicolas Thompson in Montana. A mother and son participating in life with routine/normal expectations. Yet, in the midst of traveling, run into a storm, become lost, stranded, and are overcome by the natural wilderness environment of snow, wind, and cold.  For their families and friends, the expectations of a future together have literally expired.

 

We know “expectations of life” are seldom neutral and often very emotional. We may have an image, a thought, a dream, or a job description that sets the tone of expectations. In that regard, I recall years ago, a now retired community leader and educator saying, “Part of the reason it is time to retire is simply the stress of living/working in Rochester, “the city of high expectations.””  Expectations can drive you forward or tumble one in despair, and often it is difficult finding that sense of balance.

 

In light of and in spite of life’s expectations, we come into this sanctuary, and, by its very definition, we believe this sanctuary to be a place where we expect calm, and the assurance of peace and of hope – a place of Good News. Truth is, however, today on this Palm/Passion Sunday, the Lord we worship is portrayed in a text which contrasts high positive expectations with apparent disaster. Shouts of hopefulness and great expectations (on Sunday), become the silence of fear and darkness (on Friday).

 

The text is familiar. The people of Jerusalem are literally all stirred up with expectation – could Jesus be the conqueror/king, the one to overcome the oppressive rule of the Romans? This Jesus, the newly recognized one who raises the dead and feeds the multitudes, can we expect him to be our King?  The residents of Jerusalem came out of their homes, shut down their businesses, stood along the parade route shouting, “Hosanna, blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.”  In that moment, high expectations were placed on Jesus.

 

How realistic were these expectations?  After all, do you really expect a king to ride into town on a donkey?  Do you expect a king to come to town with little or no entourage, no army, no weapons, no obvious display of power and strength?  Certainly, no earthly king would come in the manner in which Jesus did.  Still, “in the moment,” that one day in Jerusalem 2,000 years ago, were the people simply so hard up for good news, for hopefulness that even the unconventional appearance of Jesus would suffice. Indeed, those along the dusty street would shout hosanna, spread palm branches on the crowd. Yet were their expectations of Jesus truly well placed?

 

We often hear the phrase, “at the end of the day.” In this instance, however, at the end of the week, wasn’t it amazing how quickly the Sunday cries of hosanna, and the high pitched emotions of a parade in Jerusalem, turned into something totally different by Friday.  Yes, Jerusalem was a place and a people filled with high expectations. Jesus didn’t fill the bill, and the cries of hosanna turned into cries of “crucify him.” Soon silence and darkness prevailed.

 

Can expectations change once again? Could hope be restored? Were the sounds of hosanna and the cries of “crucify him,” the last word? The end? To truly experience/know/affirm/understand the living word TODAY, don’t quit. The journey has not ended. 

 

This week, we are invited on a sacred journey. Oh, it is not a Sunday parade, but it is a powerful faith walk/journey. It is not through the streets of Jerusalem, but it is through the avenues of your soul and spirit. Many persons choose not to explore or participate in such journey, and to those persons Jesus remains simply a name, an image, an idea which embraces little or no expectations/possibility. Yet to those who would claim and follow Jesus, such persons know that Jesus was/is more than the historical center of attention in a parade 2,000 years ago. Jesus is more than a man hung on a cross – one who would be tortured, humiliated, and put to death.

 

Rather, as those who affirm Jesus in faith, we know that Jesus is the living Lord of high expectations. This Holy Week can Jesus expect to meet us at the table of absolution and forgiveness? Can he expect to meet us in his word where he offers promise and hope? Can he expect to meet us offering counsel and wisdom through the power of His spirit? 

 

Can Jesus expect us this week, not to attend a parade of potential or possibilities, but to share a journey in worship, as an expression of gratitude, faithfulness, and recognition of who we truly confess and celebrate him to be?  As one of your pastors, I can’t expect you to journey to the cross and tomb this week, I only invite. It is up to the power of the Spirit stirring within you – calling, gathering, enlightening. This I expect, God is not neutral. Therefore, expect God to stir within your soul and mind. May we be so bold as to step out of our routine or even excuses to demonstrate a response that is fitting, appropriate, and above all, faithful.