Lift Up Your Heads

 

Jesu Juva

St. Mark 11:1-10                                                     

December 3, 2023

Advent 1B                       

 Dear saints of our Savior,

          On this first Sunday of Advent, the cry goes out:  Jesus is coming!  He comes to you.  Jesus comes to help you and heal you and save you.  He comes bringing forgiveness, life, and salvation. 

          Jesus comes to you; you don’t come to Him.  You don’t climb up to Him.  You don’t earn His attention or draw Him in your direction.  You can’t.  You can’t even flag Him down with your desperation, like a motorist stranded on the side of the road.  He comes.  He comes to you.  All you can do is lift up your head.  Look up in faith.  Lift up your hearts with hope and expectation.  The Lord Jesus is coming!

          Advent means “coming.”  The good news of Advent has everything to do with the coming of the Christ.  He came in humility as the Babe of Bethlehem and the Son of Mary.  He comes among us today—here and now—in the means of grace.  And He will come again with glory to judge both the living and the dead.  Advent is a complex season with one simple theme:  Our Lord comes.

          This is why the triumphal entry of Jesus into Jerusalem always sets the table for us on this first Sunday in Advent.  Jesus comes.  He comes into Jerusalem in humility, riding a borrowed donkey.  He comes to die—to bow His sacred head in submission to the Father—to bear the sins of the world on His crucifixion cross.

          St. Mark’s telling of the Triumphal Entry which we heard this morning is, in a word, strange.  We’ve heard it so many times that we just roll with it.  But what would a non-Christian—or a new Christian—make of these ten verses which are mostly devoted to securing just the right donkey for Jesus to sit on.  People toss their cloaks on the road; and others wave branches in the air while repeatedly shouting a strange word:  Hosanna, Hosanna, Hosanna in the highest.  There you have it:  Advent in a nutshell—an Advent appetizer.

          But it’s strange.  It’s strange the way Jesus sends two disciples into town to acquire a donkey on which no one has ever sat.  They aren’t to buy the donkey or rent the donkey.  They are simply to seek it, find it, and take it.  And should anyone object to this bold and brazen donkey acquisition, just say, “The Lord has need of it.”  This sounds strange to our ears.  It’s perhaps not how we would have scripted it.  But those are the orders Jesus gave.  And lest anyone doubt that Jesus is God, and that He possesses all the omniscience of God, the whole scene plays out exactly in the way that Jesus had foreseen and directed.

          But these strange details should also be comforting to us.  This little scene is a gentle reminder to us that the all-knowing Lord is also at work in the strangely scripted details of our lives—that He has a plan and purpose for you which is rarely pretty and neatly scripted like a Christmas rom-com brought to you by the Hallmark Channel.  Our lives are filled with surprises (good and bad).  We can’t even see what’s just around the corner.  But Jesus can.  He knows what’s coming your way.  He comes to guide you—in faith—through every perilous passage.

          The two disciples Jesus sent to fetch the donkey go unnamed in Mark’s gospel.  Mark does that a lot when it comes to Jesus’ disciples—leaves them unidentified so that you might see yourself in their shoes.  In fact, I recommend that you think of yourself as one of these donkey discovering disciples.  These two went and did exactly what the Savior said.  They may have had their doubts about the mission.  Borrowing another man’s livestock without being invited to do so could get you into trouble.  (Although I’ve got a dog I would be happy to loan out to anyone, anytime.) 

          But these two disciples trusted Jesus and kept His Word.  That’s also what you’ve been called to do—to trust Jesus and keep His Word.  Do what He says even when you’d rather not—even when you have doubts about the outcome—even when others may laugh at you or target you for persecution.  Listen to Jesus.  Soak up His Word.  Repent of your doubt and confess your lack of courage.

          It turns out that the strangeness of this Palm Sunday scene can largely be explained by King David.  Back in the day, King David had always been partial to the steady, stable, dependable ride of a donkey.  The crowd picked up on that little tribute to David and started calling out to Jesus with kingly kinds of language:  Hosanna!  Lord, save us.  Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!  That crowd had a plan for Jesus—a plan to run the Romans right out of town, reestablish the throne of David, and revive the glory of Israel with divine power and might.

          But that was no warhorse Jesus was riding.  That little colt reminds us that Jesus had other plans—not for an earthly kingdom, but for an eternal one.  He was riding into Jerusalem to suffer and die and rise again—to conquer sin and death for the whole world, including you.  This king would be crowned with thorns, not gold.  His throne would be a cross.  His victory would come through submission, defeat, and death—for you and every sinner.

          Our Lord comes.  He comes for you.  So lift up your heads and look.  Listen.  The Risen Lord comes to serve His people.  He once borrowed a donkey because He had need of it.  Well, it turns out that Jesus is still in the borrowing business.  He borrows our language to speak to us—to crush us with His commandments and to forgive us with the power of His holy absolution.  He borrows our water and adds His Word, and makes it a baptism—a cleansing splash that works forgiveness of sins, rescues from death and the devil, and gives eternal salvation.  He borrows our bread and wine and then comes to feed us in the meal of His body and His blood.  He borrows the wealth we call our own—receives our firstfruit offerings so that His kingdom might come to more and more people.  He borrows our humanity—permanently.  He is bone of your bone and flesh of your flesh, tempted in every way just as you are, but without sin.  In just three short weeks the Christmas gospel will magnify this miracle:  The Word became flesh.  God became man. 

          Behold, He comes.  He comes in ways that are humble and rejectable.  Jesus doesn’t force Himself on anybody.  It’s within your power to reject Him—to close your ears to His holy Word and shut your mouths to His holy Supper.  You can live as if you are not a baptized child of God.  And your Old Adam relentlessly pulls and pushes you to do just that.  As John the Baptist will remind us next week, repent.  Return to the Lord.  Confess the mess of your sin and receive absolution from the pastor as from God Himself, not doubting but firmly believing that by it your sins are forgiven before God in heaven.

          This is why Jesus comes here today—to cover your sin with His blood-bought righteousness and innocence.  He comes to set you free from the power of sin and death.  He comes to show you God’s mercy and kindness so that you don’t have to be afraid of whatever’s just around the corner.

          This first Sunday in Advent is also a reminder that the Lord has need of you.  He’d like to borrow you too.  Are you a parent?  The Lord has need of you; you are irreplaceable.  Are you a husband or a wife?  The Lord has need of you; you are irreplaceable.  Are you student, a neighbor, a citizen, a voter, a worker, a baptized child of God?  The Lord has need of you.  You are salt.  You are the light of the world.

          Lift up your heads.  Jesus is coming.  Happy Advent!

          In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.