Don’t Rain on My Parade
Mark 11:1–10
By Derek Helt
One of the reasons people rejected Jesus then and still do today is that He’s not infinitely pliable. He calls us to an uncompromising faith that affects the most common, mundane, ordinary parts of our lives, as well as big, extraordinary ones.
Mark 11:1-10:
And as they approached Jerusalem, at Bethphage and Bethany, near the Mount of Olives, He sent two of His disciples, and said to them, "Go into the village opposite you, and immediately as you enter it, you will find a colt tied there, on which no one yet has ever sat; untie it and bring it here. And if anyone says to you, 'Why are you doing this?' you say, 'The Lord has need of it'; and immediately he will send it back here." And they went away and found a colt tied at the door outside in the street; and they untied it. And some of the bystanders were saying to them, "What are you doing, untying the colt?'"And they spoke to them just as Jesus had told them, and they gave them permission. And they brought the colt to Jesus and put their garments on it; and He sat upon it. And many spread their garments in the road, and others spread leafy branches which they had cut from the fields. And those who went before, and those who followed after, were crying out,
"Hosanna!
Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord;
Blessed is the coming kingdom of our father David;
Hosanna in the highest!'"
The importance of enthusiasm to almost any endeavor is something that cannot be overrated. Having someone involved who is excited, eager & fervent about what they are doing, or about what they are involved in, can make a huge difference. In fact, often it can be the difference between success & failure.
When I was preaching in New Mexico, we had an elderly African American lady in our congregation. She had a pleasant habit of being a bit … vocal during my sermons. Well, one Sunday her daughter and son-in-law were visiting. I stood up to preach and as I got into my message, I soon realized that these people went to a church that had a very different attitude regarding "audience participation." I would say something and then he’d say something like, "Amen. That’s right!" or "Yessir!" He kept this up through the whole message. I cannot remember what I was preaching that day, but I’ll tell you what: his enthusiasm was contagious. I’d speak, hear him say, "Amen!" and I became more enthusiastic, more excited, about what I was saying. Now, I don’t know if this effect carried beyond the two of us, but it sure had a positive effect on me. Enthusiasm can be a great thing.
However, it can also be a dangerous thing
— when it is based on something false, upon ignorance, or upon misunderstanding. Just the other night, my wife let our dog out to do her business before bedtime. Well, that stupid dog went chasing something up the hillside behind our house and when she came back in, she had about a half-dozen porcupine quills stuck in her snout! It turned out to not be a big deal at all. I held her down and my wife pulled them out; but, her enthusiasm to go and check out some critter she heard or smelled got the best of her that evening. Enthusiasm, when it is based upon incomplete information, misconception, or mistaken ideas is very dangerous … and not just to dogs who run into porcupines.Traditionally, the event that Mark writes about here in chapter 11 is called "Palm Sunday." Historically, it was the week of the Jewish holiday of Passover and was Jesus coming to Jerusalem to celebrate that holiday. He knew what was in store for Him (that He’d be arrested, crucified on Friday, and rise again on Sunday) and He had already told some of His disciples this, but most people had no idea what was going happen. They thought they knew, but really they didn’t. They believed that Jesus was the promised Messiah, the Savior, and they were right, but they didn’t understand what that really meant.
They believed Jesus’ coming to Jerusalem was to be the first step in throwing off the yoke of the hated Romans, who had conquered and ruled them with an iron hand for the past two or three generations. They believed Jesus was coming in as a liberating king, that this triumphal entry into Jerusalem
— this parade — was a precursor to Jesus calling the Jewish people to arms and that very soon, maybe as soon as the next day, they would overpower the Roman garrison and hang the local Roman leaders. To them, this parade was the start of something big.I’ve been to a few parades. I’ve been to the Loyalty Days parade here in Newport. It’s a lot of fun, but I’m sure it cannot really compare to seeing Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade in New York, or even to the Rose Parade in Portland. I’ve been to parades in Gallup, New Mexico, where the entries varied from a lone WWII veteran
— a Navajo Code Talker marching along, carrying a flag — to groups from different Indian tribes dressed in traditional costumes, stopping every block to dance impressively to a heavy drumbeat. Each type of parade entry was impressive, even exciting, in its own way.But I would bet that this particular parade on the Sunday before Passover that year was really something that people were enthusiastic about. I’m sure most parades nowadays would pale in comparison, if you were to look at the level of excitement and expectation involved.
I can imagine their attitude. They were probably saying to themselves something like this: It’s a great day for a parade, a great day to be a Jew. These Romans have been bleeding us dry with their taxes and tariffs for way too long. They’ve been telling us what to do, slaughtering our people, even crucifying those who stand up for freedom. Here we are, the People of God, forced to bow down to these uncircumcised pagans who worship idols and their Emperor, a mere man. But we’re going to show them. This Galilean, this Jesus fellow, he’s the real deal. Clearly God’s sent Him to us to liberate us. Did you see him when he entered the city today? If that wasn’t him serving notice to the Romans that their days of kicking the Jews around are about over, I don’t know what is! Surely this Jesus fellow is the promised Messiah, the Savior we’ve waited on for centuries.
They were on a "high" that day, just sure that this parade was going to lead up to armed revolution
— a revolution backed by God that could not fail. They were going to kick the Romans out once and for all. Then, once again, the world would be forced to respect the descendants of Abraham.The problem was that their enthusiasm was misplaced. They shouted "Hosanna!" which means "Save us!" Save us, Jesus. Save us from those dirty Romans
—who don’t worship the One True God, who’ve raped our daughters, taxed our livelihood, crucified us by the hundreds, whose soldiers walk around the Holy City like they own the place. Some probably added: Save us, Jesus. Save us from our ‘leaders’, who worry more about lining their own pockets than about shepherding the flock under their care. Save us, Jesus; save our country, our people. But, you see, Jesus didn’t come to save them from the Romans, from their own corrupt leaders, or from any other oppressive earthly force; He came to save them from themselves, even when they didn’t realize that this was their greatest need.-----------------------------------
Now, we know that the Romans are long gone. And oppressive, corrupt governments come and go. Many things have changed over the last 2000 years, but one thing is definitely still true: We still need saving from ourselves. Proverbs 14:12 says, "There is a way that seems right to a man, but in the end it leads to death." Just as the people of Jesus’ day had their own ideas about what God’s Savior would be like, or what the nature of His mission would be, we also regularly face the danger of imagining our own personal, ideal religion
—a religion tailored to our every felt need and self-centered whim. Just as the Jewish people of Jesus’ day needed to be saved from their religion of nationalism and political freedom, we, too, need to be saved from our religion of a personalized faith, an easy spirituality that comforts us and make us happy with ourselves and the world around us.For a generation or so, we Americans, as a culture, have been enthralled with the idea of a "personalized faith." This is not the same thing as a "personal faith"
— which is each person being responsible for claiming Jesus Christ as their Savior. No, a ‘personalized faith’ is an undefined set of beliefs, which for most people consists of nothing more than a few moral absolutes which they affirm that they will never violate … unless a really good reason comes up. You see, what usually passes for "spirituality" in twenty-first century America is so vague and hazy that the word almost has no real meaning. Will Willimon puts it this way: "For some time now, we have been in the mire of something called ‘spirituality,’ which in my experience tends to be decidedly anti-traditionalist, anti-institutional, amorphous, vague and therefore undemanding."This type of ‘personalized’ faith, or generic spirituality, is wildly popular. And why wouldn’t it be popular, since ultimately it is you who make your own rules regarding what it consists of and what your own moral absolutes are going to be? Willimon continues: "Just for now, I’m trying to discipline myself, whenever I hear someone around here say ‘spirituality,’ to think ‘idolatry.’"(1) You see, the problem with it is that Jesus is demanding. Just as He wouldn’t become the kind of Savior that the people back then wanted, neither will He look at our "personalized" versions of Christianity and pronounce them all well and good.
Let me tell you a little story on myself. A year or two ago, we bought one of those chimineas (an outdoor fireplace) for the courtyard behind our house. We bought it and got it home, then I read the directions which said to put a couple inches of sand in the bottom before making a fire in it. No problem, we got a whole beach full of sand not two minutes drive from our house. That’s one of the advantages of living on the Oregon Coast. So, I took a bucket, drove down to Agate Beach, parked right in front of the sign that says "Don’t take sand from the beach," and scooped up a third of a bucket. When I got home, I put the sand in the chiminea and finished getting it ready to use. Later on, my youngest daughter asked my wife, "Where did Dad get the sand for the chiminea?" My wife told her where I got it. "Was it okay to take sand from the beach?" she asked. My wife, being brutally truthful, said "No, the sign said you’re not supposed to." So, then, my innocent 7-year-old daughter asks, "Then why did he?"
Now that is an excellent and fair question that I still haven’t figured out how to answer! You may be sitting there thinking, "Come on, that’s only the smallest little bit of sand! What are you beating yourself up for?" But, you see, I can see me trying to explain it to Jesus some day. I tell Him I needed just a little bit of sand, not a whole bag from the store. And He’s going to say to me, "Couldn’t you read the sign? Don’t you know what the Bible teaches about obeying the law of land? If you knew it was wrong, then why did you take it?"
One of the reasons people rejected Jesus then and still do today is that He’s not infinitely pliable. He calls us to an uncompromising faith that affects the most common, mundane, ordinary parts of our lives, as well as big, extraordinary ones. The other night I watched a great movie, and excellent movie; but I probably should have not watched it because of the rating
— Robert De Niro’s character had a terribly foul mouth and that’s why it was rated the way it was. I justified watching it by saying to myself, "Well, it’s only because of the language, not because of any graphic or explicit sex in it." However, I don’t think Jesus buys that excuse.You see, following Jesus should be the deciding factor in determining what movies we watch, what books we read, what language we use, what activities we spend our time doing, how we spend our money, what we say to our children, and how we treat the person who brings us our food at the Sizzler this afternoon. There is just simply no aspect or our lives that should not be impacted by our claim that we follow Jesus Christ and our statement that He is the Lord of our lives. He doesn’t dance to our tune, nor subscribe to our personal idea of salvation. Christianity is not a flexible religious system what we can alter to fit our prejudices, our whims, and our desires. And if we try to make it into something like that, we rob it of meaning and make it into nothing more than another "-ism," no better than any other religion on this earth.
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Jesus also came to save us from a fickle, unstable faith that is quick to give up when faced with difficulties, trials, or when it is tested. I’m always amazed at how Jesus could go from being hailed as the Savior on Sunday, but be put to death on Friday. Someone pointed out that the people who joined the parade on Sunday were probably largely from Galilee, as was Jesus; but that those who shouted "crucify him" on Friday were mostly locals from Jerusalem. That may or may not be accurate, but it still seems almost unbelievable that this could happen in the course of just five days. However, when the people didn’t get what they wanted, they were quick to abandon Jesus. Maybe the "Hosanna" shouters of Sunday weren’t shouting "crucify him" on Friday, but they didn’t raise their voices to counter the demands for His execution, did they?
At a "Pastors & Wives Conference" I attended last March in Spokane, Washington, Bob Russell (of Southeast Christian Church, Louisville, KY) spoke to us about the subject of marriage, specifically about the dangers and areas of concern that are unique to the marriages of people who are in the ministry. He finished his talk by playing a recording of Robertson McQuilkin, who used to be the president of Columbia International University, a Bible college in Columbia, SC. McQuilkin’s wife was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s a few years back. Unfortunately, her condition quickly progressed to where she couldn’t stand to be out of her husband’s presence. He explains …
With me she was content; without me, she was distressed, sometimes terror stricken. The walk to school is a mile round trip. She would make that trip as many as ten times a day. Sometimes at night, when I helped her undress, I found bloody feet. When I told our family doctor, he choked up. "Such love," he said simply. Then after a moment, "I have a theory that the characteristics developed across the years come out at times like these." I wish I loved God like that — desperate to be near him at all times. Thus she teaches me, day by day.
Russell told us how this man, against the counsel of some friends, quit his job to take care of his wife, rather than put her in an institution. Russell meant to encourage and challenge us in our marriages, and he did that. But I think the story of Mr. & Mrs. McQuilkin is an excellent example of how we are supposed to love, and be devoted to, God. The Bible calls the church the "bride of Christ," so when a person chooses Jesus, it’s a lot like being married to Him.
Jesus doesn’t want followers who abandon Him at the first sign of trouble. He can little use people who claim to be Christians who show up once a year when the cheering starts at Easter, or when the magic of Christmas infects even the most jaded and cynical. He needs people He can count on to endure to the end, even when the going gets tough.
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If you’ve made the decision to be a follower of Jesus Christ, how far does that faith go? Is it a mile wide, but only an inch deep? When you’re standing up for your faith, for what God tells you is right, means that you’ll have to put yourself in a position to be ridiculed
— maybe by your children, or the parents of your children’s friends, or by others who sneer and call you a throw-back to the time of "Leave It To Beaver" — will you take your stand? Will you say, "I know it’s not popular, but I believe it’s right," or will you do as we’re all tempted to do at times, and keep quiet, or remain ignorant because that is "safe"?Or, what’s sometimes more difficult: When obeying Jesus means you’ll have to do something distasteful, will you screw your courage to the sticking place and say to yourself, "I’m going to do this because God wants me to," or will you make some excuse to shirk your responsibility? Say you find something out about someone (a family member, church friend, etc.) and you know you ought to confront them; but you also know that you’ll risk losing their friendship if you do. Will you be truthful with them and do the loving, but difficult, thing; or will you do the easy thing and let them fall into the pit they’re heading for? A cheap, worthless faith is not very demanding of us; but the genuine article can be a difficult thing sometimes.
A. J. Conyers, in The Eclipse of Heaven, tells this story:
I once heard G. Gordon Liddy speak to a college audience in Missouri. Throughout the evening this former White House aide, who had been only a short time earlier released from a prison sentence for his part in the famous Watergate episode, urged upon us the idea that only force, strength, ruthless use of violence and an iron will could earn the respect of friends and foes in this "real world which is, in fact, a very tough neighborhood."
One of my colleagues on the faculty rose to timidly pose the question: "But in our country, most people…after all…do base their ethics on…like…the teachings of Jesus…and" (finally he got it out with a rush) "this-doesn’t-sound-much-like-the-teachings-of-Jesus." He sat down.
Liddy glared a moment, took in a breath, and bellowed "Yeah—and look what happened to Jesus!" He flailed his arms outward, holding them as if on the crossbeam of a gibbet: "They crucified him." To Liddy, the case was closed. The audience reacted, briefly, as if stunned, astonished—and then with thunderous applause. After all, Liddy only said out loud what everyone else had already concluded: "Failure, persecution and pain, instead of success, appreciation and a good retirement—that’s no way to end up."
It’s amazing to me that even after Jesus rose from the grave, explained the purpose of His death, and we have the whole New Testament and 2000 years to reflect on it, so many people still miss the whole point. Yes, Jesus rains on our personal, tailored parades; but that’s only because unless we’re following Him, we’re really not going anywhere in life. After all these years, the truth is that we still need saving from ourselves.
Footnotes: Use your "back" button to return to your place
1. Leadership, Winter 2002, pp. 37, 38.
Permission is granted to subscribers to use this document in total or in sermon preparation in the context of the local congregation only. Publishing it in a book, on the Internet, or anyplace beyond the local congregation is prohibited.- The author of this sermon, Derek Helt, may be reached at: dphelt@actionnet.net