Dear friends,
As we enter into Holy Week together, may God be our strength and our song, the source of all courage and compassion.
Today’s worship service, in its entirety, may be viewed here:
If you’d prefer to listen to the gospel reading and sermon, you may do so here:
https://soundcloud.com/stacey-nalean-carlson/with-courage-a-sermon-for-palm-sunday
Today’s sermon is based on John 12:12-16 and Psalm 31:9-16.
Psalm 31:9-16
9Have mercy on me, O Lord, for I am in trouble;
my eye is consumed with sorrow, and also my throat and my belly.
10For my life is wasted with grief, and my years with sighing;
my strength fails me because of affliction, and my bones are consumed.
11I am the scorn of all my enemies, a disgrace to my neighbors, a dismay to my acquaintances;
when they see me in the street they avoid me.
12Like the dead I am forgotten, out of mind; I am as useless as a broken pot.
13For I have heard the whispering of the crowd; fear is all around;
they put their heads together against me; they plot to take my life.
14But as for me, I have trusted in you, O Lord. I have said, “You are my God.
15My times are in your hand;
rescue me from the hand of my enemies, and from those who persecute me.
16Let your face shine upon your servant; save me in your steadfast love.”
John 12:12-16
[Five days before the Passover] the great crowd that had come to the festival heard that Jesus was coming to Jerusalem.13So they took branches of palm trees and went out to meet him, shouting,
“Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord—the King of Israel!”
14Jesus found a young donkey and sat on it; as it is written:
15“Do not be afraid, daughter of Zion. Look, your king is coming, sitting on a donkey’s colt!”
16His disciples did not understand these things at first; but when Jesus was glorified, then they remembered that these things had been written of him and had been done to him.
Beloved of God, grace and peace to you in the name of Jesus. Amen.
Logan came home from school the other day talking about a video his class had watched in guidance. It was about a boy who had Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy. The boy’s older brother died of the same disease; he knew his own life would be cut short, and he was determined to make a difference in the lives of others before he died. He was so brave, Mom, Logan said. He knew he was going to die. He was so brave.
Where does that kind of courage come from?
What inspired John Lewis, on March 7, 1965, to march across that bridge in Selma, Alabama and to stand his ground even as the peaceful protesters he led were met with terrible violence? The images from that day galvanized support for the Voting Rights Act. It was signed into law later that year. Until his death in 2020, Mr. Lewis traveled to Selma each year to commemorate the anniversary of what became known as Bloody Sunday.
At the ceremony in 1998, Joseph T. Smitherman, who had been Selma’s segregationist mayor in 1965 and was still mayor — though a repentant one — gave Mr. Lewis a key to the city. “Back then, I called him an outside rabble-rouser,” Mr. Smitherman said of Mr. Lewis. “Today, I call him one of the most courageous people I ever met.”1
Where did the courage of Malala Yousafzai come from? As a young girl in Pakistan she became a spokesperson for women’s right to education. In response, she began to receive death threats and at age 15 nearly died when she was shot in the head at close range by a Taliban gunman. She has written, “I don’t know why, but hearing I was being targeted did not worry me. It seemed to me that everybody knows they will die one day.”
When her father suggested they stop their campaigns for human rights, Malala replied “How can we do that? You were the one who said that if we believe in something greater than our lives, then our voices will only multiply even if we are dead. We can’t disown our campaign!”2
It may be that we have not had the kind of threats to our lives that John Lewis, and Malala Yousafzai, and Jesus himself experienced. It may be that we haven’t been front and center at anything resembling Bloody Sunday or Palm Sunday. It may even be that we’ve never been confronted with our own mortality…not in the way that Darius Weems–the young boy from that video Logan watched–was confronted.
But we do know we’re going to die. We do know, deep down, that we can’t save ourselves. And I know for myself, there are times that knowledge causes me to freeze out of fear and sorrow, causes me to be unable to breathe. So the thought of being willing to die for something greater than ourselves is almost more than I can comprehend.
Where does that kind of courage come from?
When Jesus entered into Jerusalem on what we now call Palm Sunday, he did so not to advance his own status, not to rise up the ranks of the elite, not to become a king like the ones the world already knew. If it had been his aim to live for himself, to take his place on an earthly throne, to wear a crown of jewels instead of a crown of thorns, you can be sure he would not have been riding a lowly donkey.
Jesus chooses to live not for himself, but for the world he came to save. He chose not to preserve himself, but to pray—in word and in deed—for his disciples, for all those who flocked to him for healing and hope, for his friends and for his enemies. Father, forgive them, he prayed from the cross. Jesus emptied himself so that all God’s beloved creation might be filled—with grace and mercy and justice and peace.
Where does that kind of courage come from?
It comes from hearts that have been broken wide open by injustice and grief, from hearts that beat with agape love—God’s love—for all people.
Darius Weems raised money to defeat Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy so that no other child would suffer from this devastating disease. In an interview four years before his death at age 27, Darius said, “As long as I’m here and being able to motivate people and being strong for them, hey, I’m living my life to the fullest.”3
John Lewis kept on making what he called “good trouble” until his life’s end, working to end poverty, racism and war.
Malala Yousafzai, in a speech at the United Nations to a group of 500 young people, reiterated her commitment to all people: “I am not against anyone, neither am I here to speak in terms of personal revenge against the Taliban or any other terrorist group. I’m here to speak up for the right of education for every child. I want education for the sons and daughters of the Taliban and all terrorists and extremists.”4
Where does that kind of courage come from? Where does that kind of love come from? It comes from hearts created by God—hearts created to trust their creator.
Like Darius and Malala, John and Jesus, the psalmist’s life is threatened. “They put their heads together against me; they plot to take my life,” the psalmist cries out to God. “But as for me, I have trusted in you, O Lord. I have said, ‘You are my God. Rescue me. Save me in your steadfast love.’”
Hosanna! Save us!
Jesus knows his path is leading to the cross. He knows the popularity won’t last, the praises will cease to be sung. He knows he’s a threat to the status quo that must be silenced. He knows he’s going to die.
AND he knows he has been named Beloved of God. He knows, though there are moments where he feels forsaken, that his life is held in God’s hands. He knows God’s steadfast love will save him…and all this wounded world.
So, with courage, Jesus enters into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday. With courage, John Lewis crosses that bridge in Selma. With courage, Malala Yousafzai refuses to retreat from her commitment to human rights. With courage, Darius Weems lives a life of service to others.
With courage, we—the Church—respond to God’s call, trusting God to save us.
We recognize that we are part of something larger than any one person or any one congregation. We pray for the world—in word and in deed. We look for God to be our strength. And when our collective heart is broken open by injustice and grief, we act with courage, trusting our life is held in God’s hands. We follow our Savior through the palm parade to the cross; we stand in awe as he leads us through death to abundant life for all creation. Amen.
1https://www.nytimes.com/2020/07/17/us/john-lewis-dead.html