Journeying with Jesus — The Last Week (ch 1-2)

Mark 11:1-19

1st Sunday in Lent, February 11, 2024

Rev. Dr. Ritva  H. Williams

The 40 days of Lent re-enacts the 40 days Jesus spent in the wilderness following his baptism, fasting and praying, wondering and wrestling with what it meant to be God’s beloved Son. For us, Lent is a time of pondering what it means for each of us to live, grow, and mature into our true-beloved-children-of-God-selves as revealed in Christ’s transfiguration. I would like to propose that knowing more about Jesus’ last week can deepen our understanding of our calling and mission both as individuals and as a community.

The realization that most people know very little about the details of what happened between Palm Sunday and Easter morning, prompted two of the world’s top Jesus experts, Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan to write The Last Week: A Day-by-Day Account of Jesus’s Final Week in Jerusalem. The book functions as a commentary on the last five chapters of Mark’s Gospel,  which give a day-by-day even hour-by-hour account as remembered and shared by the apostle Peter.

Our gospel reading this morning includes Palm Sunday and Monday of Holy Week. Jesus appoints a “donkey detail” to secure a donkey for Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem. They successfully bring the donkey to Jesus, and a procession of pilgrims who have walked a hundred miles from Galilee begins winding down the narrow road from the Mount of Olives, across the Kidron Valley and up into the city of Jerusalem. They are excited to celebrate Passover in the Holy City. Some lay down a “red” carpet for Jesus made up of cloaks and leafy branches, while others run ahead and behind shouting, “Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed in the coming kingdom of our ancestor David! Hosanna in the highest heaven!”

Jesus’ actions and the words of the pilgrims are deeply symbolic and aspirational, invoking God’s promise, “Look, your king comes to you, humble, and riding a donkey” (Zechariah 9:9). Christ's peaceful intentions are signaled by his paradoxically humble, yet joyful and triumphant entry. 

As Jesus entered Jerusalem from the east, Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor of Judea, Samaria, and Idumea rode into Jerusalem from the west on a war horse, leading a column of Roman cavalry and foot soldiers. They came to enforce the Pax Romana — the Roman Peace — during Passover. This festival celebrated Israel’s liberation from 400 years of slavery in Egypt. Pilate came to make sure the excited pilgrims didn’t get any ideas about liberating themselves from Rome. The city elites — the high priests, the members of the Sanhedrin and their entourages — dutifully gathered to greet Rome’s imperial agents. I imagine some cheered, while others smiled through gritted teeth.

Had you been there that day, which procession would you — beloved child of God — have been in? Pilate’s procession embodied the power, glory, and violence of an empire that ruled the world according to what they thought was the will of gods. Jesus’ procession promised an alternative kingdom committed to realizing God’s dream of shalom — peace and well-being — for all the world. Think of your place and your work in our society today — which procession do those things push you toward? What procession does your heart, mind and soul yearn for? Maybe you have a foot in both processions? These are the questions our Lenten journey with Jesus raises. These are the questions we are asked to ponder. 

To help us with that task, consider this: very ones of us beloved children of God has a vocation or “calling.” God calls each of us, gives us gifts, talents, and strengths, energizes and inspires us through the Holy Spirit. Our Christian vocation is not limited to what we do Sunday mornings, nor is it fulfilled by religious or spiritual practices. Our Christian vocation is to love and serve others in our roles as family members, friends, classmates, work colleagues, neighbors, citizens, just as Christ loves us.

Back to Jesus, who enters the city, goes to the temple, looks around at everything, then returns to Bethany with the inner circle of disciples. The following morning (Monday of Holy Week), Jesus and disciples head back to Jerusalem. On the way Jesus curses a fig tree. Weird! We’ll come back to that next week.

Monday morning, Jesus enters the Temple, drives out sellers and buyers of sacrificial animals, overturns the booths of currency exchangers and dove sellers, and generally obstructs movement through the Court of Gentiles. Please note that in Mark’s version of this story, Jesus is not armed with a whip or any other weapon. Jesus explain his actions with scriptural references. From Isaiah 56:7,  "My house shall be called house of prayer for all peoples.” And then from Jeremiah 7:11, “you have made my house a den of robbers.”

As Borg and Crossan explain, “a “den” is a hideaway, a safe house, a refuge. It is not where robbers rob, but where they flee for safety after having done their robbing elsewhere” (p. 49) and hide their loot. The people exchanging currency, selling and buying sacrificial animals were not robbing anyone. They were simply carrying out the routine business of ancient worship that included animal sacrifice. Jesus’ point was that the Temple had become a den for lestes a Greek word which literally means bandit, brigand, rebel, violent insurgents and others who thought they were freedom fighters. Who are these violent people? The Roman soldiers patrolling the walls and roof tops and occasionally mooning the worshippers below?  The high priests collaborating with Roman imperial agents? The Zealots (one of whom was a disciple) who were fomenting violence against anyone collaborating with Rome? Jesus was generally opposed to violence by all parties, oppressor and oppressed, especially when it restricted access to God’s house and the treasure of God’s love.

Here at St Stephen’s we call this room where we gather for worship “the sanctuary" as in the holiest room in this building. But did you know sanctuary also means a place of refuge and safety? Synonyms include asylum, haven, hideout, shelter and yes, a den. Even as we celebrate our building renovations that have made this space more welcoming to more people, let us continue to contemplate who is most in need of sanctuary in our community.  As we journey with Jesus through this season of Lent, may each of you know, live and share the sanctuary, shelter and safety of Christ’s unbreakable love.

“A Blessing Called Sanctuary” (Jan Richardson)

You hardly knew how hungry you were to be gathered in,

to receive the welcome that invited you to enter entirely —

nothing of you found foreign or strange,

nothing of your life that you were asked to lea behind

or to carry in silence or in shame.

Tentative steps became settling in,

leaning into the blessing that enfolded you,

taking your place in the circle that stunned you with its unimagined grace.

You began to breathe again, to move without fear, 

to speak with abandon the words you carried in your bones,

that echoed in your being.

You learned to sing.

But the deal with this blessing is that it will not leave you alone,

will not let you linger in safety, in stasis.

The time will come when this blessing will ask you to leave,

not because it has tired of you but because it desires 

for you to become the sanctuary that you have found —

to speak your word into the world,

to tell what you have heard with your own ears,

seen with your own eyes, known in your own heart:

that you are beloved, precious child of God,

beautiful to behold and you are welcome 

and more than welcome here. Amen.