Sermon by Rev. Russell Daye
St. Andrew's United Church, Halifax

The End of the Beginning

Luke 19:28-40
Palm/Passion Sunday

This was it: the end of the beginning. The disciples knew it. They were right; but they had no idea what it meant to be right.

After three long years in the backwoods they were entering Jerusalem. After three long years in Meat Cove and Membertou and Musquodobit, they were on Robie St. headed for Spring Garden Road. After three long years in Newfoundland, they were going down Bloor St. with Yonge in sight. This was the end of the beginning. Everything was about to change. The disciples knew it. They were right; but they had no idea what it meant to be right.

They had suffered hardships and humiliations: leaving their families; living on the kindness of strangers - who were not always so kind; fasting, sometimes without intent; the murder of their mentor, John; Jesus' scolding and making examples of them; the scrutiny and now hostility of the Pharisees and scribes. But now all those sufferings, impediments, and annoyances would fade in the shadow of the fulfillment of their leader's mission. This was the end of the beginning. Everything was about to change. The disciples knew it. They were right; but they had no idea what it meant to be right.

They knew what it meant to ride into Jerusalem on a never-ridden colt. They had heard the scriptures. This was the entry of the Messiah! This was the arrival of the New David in his capital, the beacon on the hill! And look at all the rejoicing disciples. Look at how many have joined their ranks. And look: the people, save a few grumbling Pharisees, are paving his way with their coats. This was the end of the beginning. Everything was about to change. The disciples knew it. They were right; but they had no idea what it meant to be right.

They knew Jesus would be an entirely new kind of king. His way would be the way of peace, not the sword. His way would be the way of humility, not opulence - just look at how he is dressed for this triumphal entry. His authority would come from service, not crushing power. Finally there would be a king whose deepest desire would be commonwealth for the masses. Finally there would be a king who deflected glory onto the people. This was the end of the beginning. Everything was about to change. The disciples knew it. They were right; but they had no idea what it meant to be right.

In their excitement they failed to take in Jesus' countenance. If they did, they mistook gravitas for humility. For Jesus' sight went beyond this fickle, cheering throng to the events of the coming days. His sight took in the crowd, but with a harshly altered demeanour. His ears took in echoes of coming events. Listen to the echoes …

And he did the same with the cup after supper, saying, "This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood. But see, the one who betrays me is with me, and his hand is on the table.

Then he withdrew from them about a stone's throw, knelt down, and prayed, "Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me; yet, not my will but yours be done." Then an angel from heaven appeared to him and gave him strength. In his anguish he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat became like great drops of blood falling down on the ground.

… suddenly a crowd came, and the one called Judas, one of the twelve, was leading them. He approached Jesus to kiss him; but Jesus said to him, "Judas, is it with a kiss that you are betraying the Son of Man?"

Pilate, wanting to release Jesus, addressed them again; but they kept shouting, "Crucify, crucify him!"

When they came to the place that is called The Skull, they crucified Jesus there with the criminals, one on his right and one on his left. Then Jesus said, "Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing." And they cast lots to divide his clothing. And the people stood by, watching; but the leaders scoffed at him, saying, "He saved others; let him save himself if he is the Messiah of God, his chosen one!"

It was now about noon, and darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon, while the sun's light failed; and the curtain of the temple was torn in two. Then Jesus, crying with a loud voice, said, "Father, into your hands I commend my spirit." Having said this, he breathed his last.

Riding into Jerusalem, Jesus knew that this was the beginning of the end. He was right. And he knew what it meant to be right: the beginning of the end meant the end of him.

Jesus was that rare individual who could see to the depths of things. He could see all the way to the depths of God's love and God's mercy. He could see all the way to the depths of human potential for truth, dignity, and justice. He could also see the depths of darkness in entrenched power - and the lengths to which it would go. He could see the deep core of a system built on exploitation and corruption. He could also see that, in their deep recesses, all these things, good and evil, were connected. He could see that to release the full potential of human dignity and justice he would have to unmask the unholy system that fed on that potential. He would have to be absorbed into the heart of that system, humiliated, and destroyed by it so that his fellows could see it clearly, so that they could break from the all-encompassing parasite. For them to make that break, he would have to be broken. There was no other way. And so he rode into Jerusalem … to be broken.

This saga of Jesus in Jerusalem, this myth that is truer than fact, this story that clarifies history, has enormous relevance for our time. We live at the end of the beginning. We live at the end of the time when the consequences of human stupidity are finite. We live at the end of the era when our mistakes can be reversed. There is no room left for innocence.

History is marching into Jerusalem. The climactic confrontation with our systems of exploitation is on the horizon. A few remarkable individuals are looking all the way into the depths of this confrontation. Ransom Myers (God keep him) warned us for decades that oceanic biospheres are collapsing. David Suzuki (and his accomplices) have warned us for a generation about global warming. Romeo Dallaire went to Rwanda and warned us of the violence that ushers from abandonment. Stephen Lewis - like Dallaire, tormented and broken by his journey into Jerusalem - cries out from communion with the AIDS sufferers we abandon.

These are not isolated problems to be fixed. Myers, Suzuki, Dallaire, and Lewis are not to be heard as technocrats proposing solutions to discreet problems. They are prophets speaking from deep in Jerusalem, from the broken place, calling out human truth and dignity and justice. This is today's passion play. It is time for us to become its actors. No, that's not right. We are already its actors, but we are letting the parasitic system write our parts. This is today's passion play. It is time for us to choose our own roles.