The Stones are Shouting

It was Passover time in Jerusalem.  Jews were flooding into the city from all over the world for the holiday. So Pontius Pilate, as was his custom, went up to Jerusalem from his home base in Caesarea, bringing with him a large contingent of troops.  Pilate rode into the city in advance of the Passover on a powerful black warhorse bedecked with colors, banners, insignia and armor, accompanied by a huge contingent of soldiers.

At the same time, Jesus arrived in Jerusalem on a donkey.

All four gospels tell the Palm Sunday story, and the lectionary’s choice for it this year is from Luke, but in Matthew’s version, he adds the comment that Jesus’ action in choosing to ride a donkey with her colt beside her fulfills the words of the prophet Zechariah: “Shout aloud, O daughter Jerusalem! Lo, your king comes to you; triumphant and victorious is he, humble and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.”

Contrast Pilate on his stallion with Jesus on a nursing donkey mare with her colt beside her, and you see the intended message: Peace on earth, yes, but not peace by Rome’s violent victory, rather peace by God’s non-violent justice.

The crowd was excited. They threw their cloaks on the ground to make a path for Jesus. They waved palm branches. They shouted the praises of the man whom many of them believed would redeem Israel. The crowd sang and shouted joyful praises to God in loud voices. “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!”

But, of course, not everyone was happy. Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to Jesus, “Teacher, rebuke your disciples!” The Pharisees were offended by this celebration.

“I tell you,” Jesus replied, “If they keep quiet, the stones will cry out.”

That’s quite a vivid image, isn’t it – stones crying out? We could imagine Mick Jagger and the Rolling Stones crying out – they do it every time they perform. (Although they won’t be doing it in Miami next Saturday, since Mick is out getting a heart valve replacement right now.)

But Jesus wasn’t referring to the Rolling Stones. He was referring to ordinary rocks on the ground crying out his praise. And, if the stones on the ground had cried out, what do you think would have been their message on that first Palm Sunday?

Maybe the first thing they would have cried out is “Hey, Jerusalem, your King is here.” The people of Jerusalem were longing for a king, praying for a king, a descendant of their greatest king, the great warrior King David. They called this king they were awaiting, “Messiah,” the anointed one. It is he who would lead them to victory over their enemies. Even the disciples were longing for this Messiah, and they were beginning to believe that Jesus just might be the one.

Well, he was the Messiah, but not the kind of Messiah they were expecting. For one thing, he didn’t say anything about overthrowing the oppressive Roman army. Neither did he speak about re-establishing the house of David in all its glory. “My kingdom is not of this world” is what he actually said, but they weren’t listening.

There is a second thing that the stones might have cried out on that first Palm Sunday: Your Savior has arrived.

Here’s the good news for the day: Jesus didn’t come into our world to simply rule over us, but to redeem us. He is our King, but more importantly, he is our Savior. Some people think that when Christ returns he will force us to do to his will; the truth of the matter is that he will enable us to be like he is. That makes all the difference in the world. Because Christ came into the world our sins are forgiven. We have been set free from the powers of sin and death. He did for us what we could not do for ourselves.

It’s like the story of Sir Douglas Bader, a noted British aviator in World War II. Warring countries usually communicate with each other with bombs, bullets, and propaganda. In World War II this rule was briefly broken when a British Royal Air Force plane flew over a German airfield and dropped a package by parachute. The package was addressed “To the German flight commander of the Luftwaffe at St. Omer,” where Sir Douglas Bader was held prisoner in a German hospital.

The package contained an artificial leg, bandages, socks, and straps. It seems that the Germans, after capturing Bader, had radioed England that he was well – but that he was missing one of his limbs. You see, Bader had two artificial legs, both made of tin. Somehow, in bailing out of his plane, he had lost one of his artificial legs.

It was a sign of respect for Sir Douglas that the German commander would send to London to replace his missing limb. And so a parachute drop followed shortly. Bader had a new leg. The Germans, though, should have known better. Once back on both tin legs, Bader made four attempts to escape before the Germans began depriving him of his artificial legs at night.

Sir Douglas Bader was a determined soldier. Still, without his legs he was helpless, just as we are helpless without the redeeming power of Christ. But that’s not the end of the story. After three years and eight months in a maximum-security prisoner-of-war camp, Sir Douglas was set free . . . by the American Third Army. Here’s the point: As courageous and determined as Sir Douglas was, he was helpless to save himself. He still needed the intervention of an outside force.

We may not realize it, but you and I are just as helpless when it comes to dealing with the forces of sin and death as Sir Douglas was without his legs. The one thing in this world that we cannot do is save ourselves. But listen to the stones. We have a Savior who has come into our world to set us free. “Take notice,” the stones would cry, “your King is here.” Even more importantly, they would cry, “Take notice, your Savior has arrived.”

Then, I suspect, those stones would give one more cry. They would surely say about Christ, “Give him your heart.”

It’s not enough for us to acknowledge that Christ is our King or that because of his sacrificial love, our sins have been forgiven. There must come a time when we allow him to be the Lord of our lives, when we begin to live as the kind of men and women God created us to be.

Author C.S. Lewis wrote: “I think that many of us, when Christ has enabled us to overcome one or two sins that were an obvious nuisance, are inclined to feel (though we do not put it into words) that we are now good enough. He has done all we wanted him to do, and we should be obliged if he would leave us alone.

“But the question is not what we intended ourselves to be, but what he intended us to be when he made us  . . .

“Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what he is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on. You knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently he starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make sense. What on earth is he up to?

“You thought you were going to be made into a decent little cottage, but he is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it himself.”

That is the purpose in giving him our hearts, that we might be a new creation in him. So listen to the stones. No, not the Rolling Stones. Listen to the stones that lined the path that Jesus trod that first Palm Sunday. Listen as they declare, “Here is your King, here is your Savior; give him your heart.”