Connecting the Dots

Luke 19:28-40

Now Jesus went on, going up to Jerusalem.

When Jesus had come near Bethphage and Bethany, at the place called the Mount of Olives, he sent two of the disciples, saying, “Go into the village ahead of you, and as you enter it you will find tied there a colt that has never been ridden. Untie it and bring it here. If anyone asks you, ‘Why are you untying it?’ just say this, ‘The Lord needs it.’ ” So those who were sent departed and found it as he had told them. As they were untying the colt, its owners asked them, “Why are you untying the colt?” They said, “The Lord needs it.” Then they brought it to Jesus, and after throwing their cloaks on the colt, they set Jesus on it. As he rode along, people kept spreading their cloaks on the road. Now as he was approaching the path down from the Mount of Olives, the whole multitude of the disciples began to praise God joyfully with a loud voice for all the deeds of power that they had seen, saying,

“Blessed is the king
    who comes in the name of the Lord!
Peace in heaven,
    and glory in the highest heaven!”

Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to him, “Teacher, order your disciples to stop.” He answered, “I tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout out.”

Sermon

One of the best things about eye doctors is that they’re the only doctor where you get to play games the whole time. Almost everyone who has seen an eye doctor knows one of the most common games, “Number 1 or Number 2.” But it’s prequel, my personal favorite game, is the “What Do You See In the Colorful Blobs” game.

In this game, your eye doctor shows you a round blob of colorful dots and splotches, arranged randomly in different sizes and places. If you can see a full spectrum of color, or at least some portion of it, then before your eyes, a number will appear as you look at this seemingly random set of colorful dots. There’s meaning nestled inside each card that you’re trying to discern. It’s no secret; there’s a meaningful number in there, if only you look carefully.

Palm Sunday is a game of “What Do You See In the Colorful Blobs.” We play it lots of different ways in today’s passage, but there are two that really stand out: seeing an unassuming colt as fit for a king; and seeing Jesus as the chosen one.

No matter which of the four Gospels we read, there is a crowd that plays a part in the drama. This crowd sees Jesus in the midst of exuberance and chaos, not merely as some ordinary, plain Galilean man, but as a savior. When they cry hosanna, they are crying out with that recognition. There’s something more happening here before their eyes; there’s a deeper meaning and significance to Jesus.

But each of the four Gospels in our Bibles have different details and styles in what they write about today’s events. Every three years, we read the Gospel of Luke, which contains today’s account. We might have learned that the Jerusalemites of Palm Sunday are the same ones who plead with Pontius Pilate for the crucifixion of Christ. In Luke, oddly enough, that’s not the case. In fact, this Gospel account doesn’t even place this story in Jerusalem, much less with a crowd of ordinary folk, and it wholly omits palm branches, too! Instead, the disciples are the ones who process with Jesus from the Mount of Olives on their way to Jerusalem for Passover. This Gospel implies that even the owner of the colt was a disciple or friend of some kind.

So in Luke’s account, it’s not all of Jerusalem who play this optometrist’s game; it’s only the disciples. It affirms that the disciples truly knew and understood Jesus as more than mortal — as their Redeemer and Lord. The disciples are continuing to praise Jesus’ miraculous deeds, and testify of his saving work among humanity. They see the number in the blobs. They perceive who God truly is.

Luke then draws a stark contrast; not everyone who encounters Jesus grasp the deeper meaning of what is before them. The Pharisees miss the number in the blobs. They say, “Teacher, order your disciples to stop.” It’s not clear why they ask Jesus this; preceding this text, they express concern about Jesus’ physical safety, and even warn him of Herod. But whatever the case, as good intentioned as they may or may not be, they miss the meaning.

“When [the people] cry hosanna, they are crying out with recognition. There’s something more happening here before their eyes; there’s a deeper meaning and significance to Jesus.”

Like the disciples, we do our best to perceive what God is truly doing among and within and around us, but that’s a tall task. We might be trying to perceive something we really don’t want to see. After all, we worship a Redeemer who was perceived to be the wrong person from the wrong place. Jesus was born in the hick town of Galilee to nobodies. Jesus didn't teach in any of the right places. He said a lot of stuff that was religiously improper and intellectually unserious. Jesus disciples’ were uneducated, blue-collar workers rather than elite students with good pedigrees. And as Jesus taught and ministered to humanity, he focused on healing the stuff that's incurable, preaching to the folks who wouldn’t understand, and caring for people who were lost causes. Jesus was always doing silly stuff that didn't make a lot of sense, and that other people didn't understand. That's the very same Jesus we worship—the hick Jesus from Galilee—who is the king of creation and lord of all. There’s a number in the blobs; someone magnificent, nestled in people and places and things that are anything but impressive.

There’s a good chance that when we see a bunch of blobs, we don’t peer into it any further. We don’t get curious, we don’t ask deeper questions, and we simply move on, writing off those blobs. After all, if we see Jesus on Palm Sunday, we might have to see him on Maundy Thursday and Good Friday, too.

“Jesus was always doing silly stuff that didn’t make a lot of sense, and that other people didn’t understand... [but] there’s a number in the blobs; someone magnificent, nestled in people and places and things that are anything but impressive.”

To complicate it even further, when we talk about discipleship or following Jesus, we sometimes bedazzle it a little bit. We think it’s going to be preaching in front of thousands and baptizing people in Africa and south Asia; discipleship is going to be this glitzy photogenic, inspirational journey across the globe. But to be honest, when we reach Palm Sunday and Holy Week we don't get any of that. Like the disciples of Jesus’ day, being one of his disciples might invite a lot of staring, a lot of side eye, and a fair amount of snide comments. And as an aside, if you love that staring, that side eye, those snippy little comments, then I'd like to talk with you, because God might be calling you to become a pastor. 

But part of the reason we embrace that silliness and side-eye is because God goes at things backwards. There is simply no waste, no leftovers, no simple donkeys or horses without a purpose in the kingdom of God. Every Sunday, we witness God taking the island of misfit toys and assembling coronations, holy meals, unexpected anointings, and a new creation from it all. Through Jesus Christ, everything takes on a new meaning; a meaning infused with love and redemption. Through Jesus Christ, we see a blob of dots, and in doing so, catch glimpses of another kingdom.

“Every Sunday, we witness God taking the island of misfit toys and assembling coronations, holy meals, unexpected anointings, and a new creation from it all. Through Jesus Christ, everything takes on a new meaning.”

Let’s demystify this a little bit, though. Recently I learned that one of Ann’s favorite shows is Project Runway. And though I’ve never watched the show, one of its challenges has been making the rounds on TikTok.

In this infamous challenge, all of these up-and-coming fashion designers were dropped off at a grocery store in Manhattan. The show’s host handed each of them a $50 bill and said, “This is our only stop. You’re making an outfit with whatever you buy.”

They’re off. The next thing you knew, one contestant has 28 ears of corn in their arms. Another one grabs Q-Tips and shower liners; someone else grabs a fish—eyeball intact—and a fistful of Twizzlers.

Somehow, they had good instincts in the grocery store. Outfits are created; models take the runway in the creations; and everyone makes it out alive.

The remarkable part of this story isn’t the end looks, or whether their fashions were well-judged. It was the way these designers perceived the groceries. These artists somehow looked at a bell pepper, just like we do, but saw something far more meaningful. They perceived what was ultimately going to happen through that ear of corn, bell pepper, or even that fistful of Twizzlers.

Jesus came not to give us beliefs and doctrines for our heads. Jesus came to show us the way; his way. The way of Christ is focused on perceiving things for what they really are, and recognizing today who and where he is. Bell peppers aren’t just bell peppers; palm leaves aren’t just palm leaves; a meal in an upper room isn’t just a meal in an upper room. Crossed beams of wood aren’t just crossed beams of wood. This church isn’t just a building, or a group of people, or even a particular ministry. Sunday morning isn’t just Sunday morning.

There are always going to be side eyes and eye rolls. Sometimes from us, sometimes from others. And to be honest, we don’t need every day to be a big deal or some grand statement.

But to share in the faith of Jesus Christ, we do need to try our best to keep pace with him.

Some days, Jesus will tell us to go to Bethany; some days, Jesus will tell us to find a horse. 

Some days, Jesus will tell us to give up our cloaks, to go an extra mile, and to wave a palm branch in protest and in praise.

It’s not every day. But it’s definitely some days.

Some days, Jesus tells us our building is more than a building, that we have a few corn husks that have another purpose.

We have love, and networks of friends, and meals to share, and quilters and knitters and carpenters and cleaners and Chatty Cathy’s: what is the real, God-given meaning behind all of it? What might happen if we give God donkeys and horses and palm branches and the things of our lives that seem meaningless or banal?

If we trust God with our souls and our salvation, then we can trust God so much more with the fistfulls of Twizzlers in our lives.

Each of us has blobs scattered throughout our lives. They might be relationships, or ideas, or loose ends, or simply your compassion. And this church has blobs scattered around it: awkwardly shaped rooms, relationships in the community, ideas about God, and people who care about Newton and Sussex County for one reason or another.

We perceive see those blobs as ordinary, useless, or disconnected; but in doing so, we run the risk of missing out on the joy God has in store for us.

The kingdom of God is here today, just as it was two thousand years ago. Jesus is in our midst today, just as Jesus was two thousand years ago.

In those blobs and bell peppers of our lives, we have the chance to praise our Redeemer. We have the chance to perceive God’s ongoing deliverance.

It doesn’t take the greatest skills.

It doesn’t take the greatest brains.

It doesn’t take getting it right.

It takes our faith; our hope; our love; our willingness to wave palm branches; and our willingness to perceive what we don’t always like, but what the world always needs.

It takes this church.

You. And me. And our attention.

Salvation is here. Riding on an unlikely animal; consummate in an unlikely Galilean man; and proclaimed by ordinary people, who dared to see meaning in every unexpected, unremarkable misfit like Jesus.