Sometimes we read about some of the things God does and think, “that’s not fair.” And I understand that feeling. Even when I know that fair isn’t the standard, I still sometimes wonder.

Sometimes, however, there has been clear and fair warning.

Jesus gets off the donkey at the end of the parade and walks to the area surrounding the temple. People were running money-changing services for the people from across the known world making pilgrimages to the temple. People were selling the animals needed for offerings. It was a spirituality service, but apparently pursued with profit in mind.

Jesus preferred a prophet motive. He turned the tables upside down, without warning it seemed. But as he walked along tossing tables, he was quoting two noted writers, Jeremiah and Isaiah.

Jeremiah had walked into the temple one day, centuries earlier, and quoted God, saying:

Has this house, which bears my Name, become a den of robbers to you? But I have been watching! declares the LORD.

Although it took awhile, Jesus was following up on the warning.

As to what the place was supposed to be for, Jesus repeated words Isaiah wrote, again quoting God, said:

these I will bring to my holy mountain
and give them joy in my house of prayer.
Their burnt offerings and sacrifices
will be accepted on my altar;
for my house will be called
a house of prayer for all nations.

Jesus is making a clear claim to his right to protect this space, both by action and by quotation.  He is also making clear that taking a long time to act isn’t the same as ignoring what is happening or not acting at all.

Sometimes we confuse ‘hasn’t hurt me yet’ with ‘never going to hurt me.’ These vendors may have learned differently.

Two disciples did exactly what Jesus asked them to do. A crowd guided him to Jerusalem. People in the city wondered who he was, wondered what all the noise was.

In one short story, we have lots of pictures of reactions to Jesus.

I have heard a lot of sermons, nearly fifty Palm Sunday’s worth, that talk about the fickleness of crowds. Those sermons look at this passage and then at the crowds calling for Jesus’ crucifixion and say, “see? the crowds are all just around for the fun, are just following the most popular – and safe – opinion.”

As I look at this story, however, I want to cut the people a little slack for three reasons.

1. The two disciples that did what Jesus said would also leave him at the end of the week. After three years, we might expect more, but then, of course, we would be ignoring what we see in our mirrors every morning.

2. Jesus knew there was going to be a parade, he arranged for the donkeys, he knew about the prophecy. He knew that there would be people getting caught up in the crowd. He knew that there would be people wondering what was going on.

3. Starting 8 weeks after this parade, the group of people who really follow Jesus is going to explode. Some of the people who are in this parade are going to discover that they were more right than they thought.

It is so easy to beat up people for their inconsistency, for their apparent abandonment, for their enthusiasm that is as much about the crowd as about understanding. We do it to others, we do it to ourselves.

God doesn’t, however. He arranged a parade for people who would cheer, boo, and kill him. And then forgave and blessed us.

Here’s where we’ve been this week.

No need to be original

Sometimes we work hard to be original. We want to say something new. We want to be creative and innovative. We want to make our mark.

Sometimes the best thing to be is a copy. We repeat what we’ve heard. We teach what we’ve learned. We prove by our lives that it works.

a model of teaching leadership

James and John were asking for seats of power. The other ten were mad that the two had asked first. Jesus says, in essence, “You’re all working from the wrong model.” It wasn’t about who got there first or whether he had favorites.

What do you want?

We can always ask and suggest and invite and plead with God to work. There will always be an answer. Sometimes it may be no or maybe or some other answer. But sometimes, God clearly says, “What do you want me to do?”

Shut up

What I do know is that it still happens. Crowds of seemingly religious people, looking like they are following Jesus, are telling people who need his help to shut up.

“You wouldn’t fit in our church.” “That’s my seat.” “I need quiet and space to hear from Jesus and so we need to keep the (pick one) crying babies, wheezing old people, wheelchairs, organists, drummers, imperfect people, perfect people, left, right, those people quiet.”

On the verge

“Remember how clear everything was for him? I was almost like he knew that he was destined for greatness.”

And, of course, Jesus was and he did know and he wanted to be clear and specific and summarize the important lessons well.

And so, when he got to this line between the chapters, Jesus just kept moving. So will we.

Starting Monday.

We’re sitting at the edge of the end of the beginning part.

I’ve been balancing on the border between chapter 20 and chapter 21 of Matthew for two weeks now. You don’t know that because it made sense for me to take a retreat, and then I’ve been looking closely at the end of chapter 20. But I have been sitting on this artificial, arbitrary chapter division for all two weeks, and more besides.

I wonder how long Jesus sat on this line, too.

Chapter 20 ends near Jericho. Chapter 21 begins near Jerusalem, fifteen miles away. Chapter 20 ends with a healing and new followers. Chapter 21 begins with Palm Sunday.

At this dividing line we go from twenty chapters that give glimpses of thirty-three years of living and teaching and wandering to eight chapters covering one week, a week that we think of as familiar.

How am I going to help us think about this week, these chapters, this part of the story?

It’s familiar and huge and threatening and challenging. What Jesus will say and do in these next eight chapters, in his last week before being killed, will have particular import.

But, of course, it isn’t actually Jesus’ last week to live. It’s his last week before everything changes. And you know how everything that happens right before a big change in someone’s life makes you think back through what they said?

“You know, he said something like this might happen.”

“Remember how clear everything was for him? I was almost like he knew that he was destined for greatness.”

And, of course, Jesus was and he did know and he wanted to be clear and specific and summarize the important lessons well.

And so, when he got to this line between the chapters, Jesus just kept moving. So will we.

Starting Monday.