​     "Do not be afraid." Who hear has heard that before? Maybe you heard about that dream Joseph had where an angel said to him: “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit." Or maybe you’ve heard Jesus’ own teaching as he sent the 12 disciples on their mission of healing (Matthew 28:1-10): “Do not fear those who kill the body by cannot kill the soul.” Or, maybe you remember all those other times in the Bible when God or God's messenger told somebody "Do not be afraid." Like, when God said to Abram, "Do not be afraid, I will protect you from any army that seeks to harm you." Or, when God was saving Hagar and Ishmael after Abraham threw them out into the wilderness, God said, "do not fear" and saved the mother and child. Or, when Moses and Joshua were facing daunting enemies, they both hear from God, "Do not be afraid... you will survive and thrive well beyond the evil they intend for you." The stories of the Bible tell us again and again, when things look bleak, do not be afraid. God is getting ready to do a new thing.

     I am not sure how much comfort those promises brought Jesus’ disciples as they witnessed his trial, death, and burial in a tomb. I imagine that, at this point in the story, they’ve been very afraid, perhaps for days now. In less than a week, those closest to Jesus watched him go from being lauded by the common people who saw him as a beacon of hope to being crucified by the powerful people who saw him as a challenge to their authority. They were so fearful, that most abandon him. But, two of them, Mary from Magdala and another woman named Mary, as Judith Jones points out in her commentary, the same two who stayed with Jesus when he died, also went to see his tomb in the early one morning.

     Remember when I said, last Sunday, that the ground would shake once again? After the earth-moving triumphal entry into the city, and then the earth-shattering arrest and the trial, when Jesus took his last breath, the earth shook once again and the curtain covering the most sacred part of the Temple tore in two, from top to bottom. It would shake one more time as the two women named Mary arrived at the tomb.  As Elizabeth Johnson notes in her commentary on this text, Matthew’s resurrection account is the only one that includes this detail. She says, “The shaking of the earth is an appropriate parallel for the way that the events of Good Friday and Easter morning shake the very foundations of everything once thought to be secure.” Thankfully, the angel showed up just in time to explain what was happening. The angel said, “Do not be afraid.” 

     The angel told them, "He is no longer here. He has been raised. You can look in the tomb for yourselves.” Then, the angel appointed the two women as the first preachers of the Resurrection, telling them to tell the rest of the disciples what they have learned. The angel also tells them that Jesus has gone back out into the land where he preached and taught and healed people.  The Marys, and everyone else, will be able to meet him out there.

     Matthew tells us that the Marys left the tomb with fear but also great joy. Scripture also tells us that Jesus meets them on the road, in the midst of their joy and their fear, and repeats this same divine message “Do not be afraid.” All of this is so weird and so hard and so miraculous. But it is not the end. Go and tell the others. The others will meet Jesus again, too, in the midst of their fear. And, he will promise to be with them until the end of the age. I pray that you, too, will meet Jesus out there... out in the world where he healed and helped and connected with people. He is still with us, through the end of the age. Remember his words and take heart: Do not be afraid. More life can happen. And, when it does, we must leave the tomb and tell everyone about it. 
​Resources consulted while writing this sermon:
That'll Preach podcast: 08 // What? He Lives in You! [Luke 24:1-12] // Jacqui Lewis: https://soundcloud.com/thatllpreach/he-lives-in-you Judith Jones: https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=3228 Melinda Quivick: https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=1990 Elizabeth Johnson: https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/narrative-lectionary/easter-matthew-2/commentary-on-matthew-281-10-4 Wil Gafney, "Easter - The Great Vigil," A Women's Lectionary for the Whole Church, Year W (New York: Church Publishing Incorporated, 2022) 
Artwork images:
Out the cave view: Photo by Luca Bravo on Unsplash

     He rode into town with two borrowed donkeys. Neither a hero of battle nor Roman nobility, and yet, the people gathered and greeted him as though he were one... as though he was really able to save them. That’s what Hosanna means: “Save me.” They took their cloaks and branches hastily cut from trees and they made him a clear path into the city. Hosannas rang across the city, hosannas usually reserved for the rich and powerful. In that moment, the crowds believed Jesus could help them. They believed that he could save them. So, they shouted and sang and made a fuss. And, into the city he rode, on two borrowed donkeys.

     Some version of this story is in each of the four Gospels. The stories vary as you would expect from four storytellers. One donkey or two, an unknown crowd or disciples, there is always a ruckus. Jesus is always greeted with joy. Matthew's version of Jesus' entry into Jerusalem says that the city shook with the intensity of crowd. In her translation of the text, Dr. Wil Gafney prefers to use the definition “shake” rather than “turmoil.” Jesus’ entry into the city is intended to have the power of an earthquake. Or, perhaps we are to read this as a convulsion of need by the people witness this strange parade. Either way, the people and city are shaken. And, the ground will shake again, later that same week. This tumult might be a warning, too.

     Jesus wasn't the only one who marched into the city during this festival. In his commentary on this text, Stanley Sanders talks about Jesus’ entry in the city is intended to be a contrast to that of the Roman elite. Pilate would have ridden into town and he wouldn’t have had to borrow a donkey, though, it should be noted, that he didn’t pay for the chariot he likely rode in on. That was the people’s money, taken by Rome. He and the soldiers he commanded would have made their own way into the city, displaying all their power and might in order to intimidate the people into good behavior during their religious celebration.

     We must remember that Passover was a holiday where the people celebrated their delivery from oppression in Egypt. Pilate needed to make sure they didn't get so overcome with all the talk of liberation that they became foolish enough to try to rebel against Rome. Sanders says that people would be required to show up to welcome Pilate and pledge obedience to the conqueror. To appear to be anything less than celebratory at his return to the city would be to court destruction at the hands of his garrison. I don't know if many people would have should Hosanna at Pilate. Maybe they would have, but, I bet most of them didn’t think he had come in the name of the Lord.

     If we are paying attention to Jesus' entry into Jerusalem, we can see how deeply his mission is connected to the hopes of his people. He is so connected to their prophecies of salvation that he reenacts one, albeit strangely, from the book of Zechariah. That’s what the whole business about the two donkeys is about. They are trying to follow a prophecy from Zechariah. It also shows us how deeply other people responded to his mission of wholeness and liberation. In the middle of a huge religious celebration, with dangerous soldiers all around, enough people gathered around him to move the earth with their adulation and excitement. I think we are also to see that their excitement, and Jesus' dedication to his mission probably also made some powerful people nervous. When the people already have liberation on their minds, and are shouting "save me" at a man they call a prophet, you can bet some powerful people would pay attention. That attention was rarely good attention. You don't claim the space of a king, even a humble one on a donkey, without courting conflict.

     We should make sure to take note that, even in the midst of an empire ready to harm you at the least provocation, the crowd saw an opportunity for hope and liberation, and they rushed forward to be a part of it. They were willing to grasp at any bit of freedom they could manage, even if was simply the freedom to celebrate this prophet more sincerely and graciously than any emissary that Rome could send their way. So, they shouted so loudly that the city had to pay attention and they shifted the earth beneath their feet.

     The world is so complex. It has always been, but I am most attentive to the complexities of right now. It is possible to create an entire litany of terrible things happening: It is now a felony for parents to give their children life-saving gender-affirming care in the state of Alabama, the war in Ukraine is looking more and more genocidal, the Passamaquoddy Tribe at Pleasant Point Reservation doesn’t have consistent access to clean water. We are still in the midst of a pandemic that has changed so many people’s lives forever. I imagine that the somberness of this coming week’s Maundy Thursday and Good Friday services will feel familiar because it is easy to feel somber these days. And, part of the gift of Holy Week is the space to feel that grief. Grief is not separate from our faith. It is a part of it. Palm Sunday reminds us that joy and shouting are, too.

     Rev. Jayne Davis, in her work on spiritual practices, talks about the value of setting aside time for acknowledging the holy in your life. She calls this making room for Sabbath. She’s not telling Christians to take up Jewish religious practices. She suggesting that we take time to rest in God’s presence, even if it’s only for a few minutes. I invite you, in this hectic world with many demands on your time and your care, to treat Holy Week as this set-aside space, where you can draw nearer to Christ, as these crowds did, and feel whatever is on your heart in that moment. Christ is with you in the silence, the shouting and the earth-shaking. May you find your Hosanna and welcome Christ, once again, into this place.

Resources consulted while writing this sermon:
Stanley Saunders: https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=2404
Wil Gafney, "Palm Sunday- Liturgy of the Palms," A Women's Lectionary for the Whole Church, Year W (New York: Church Publishing Incorporated, 2022)
Jayne Davis: https://www.churchleadership.com/leading-ideas/7-spiritual-practices-for-the-new-year/
Art credit: Swanson, John August. Entry into the City, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=56544. Original source: www.JohnAugustSwanson.com - copyright 1990 by John August.​

​     There is a beautiful and heartbreaking novel by Mary Doria Russell called The Sparrow. It is a book about humanity and science and religious faith and, also, aliens. If you aren’t inclined to enjoy books about sentient, singing aliens or people building a spaceship out of an asteroid, I would encourage you to read it for what it says about humanity, and, particularly, how it talks about intuition. When I think about intuition, as I have learned what it means, people usually use it in a context that makes it sound almost like a magical gift. If you have good intuition, your brain or heart or stomach has a keen ability to sense the truth about something. And, it often seems to me that intuition is something you either have or not. At least it did before I read The Sparrow.

     In the book, there is an astronomer named Jimmy. One of his jobs is to pay attention to signals a large satellite in Puerto Rico picked up. He is one of the people who decides if a signal is from something in space or from something on earth. There is another character in the book, Sofia Mendes, who has been hired by a company to see if she can write a computer program that can do what Jimmy does. Think of it like someone figuring out how to mechanize weaving, so that a machine does most of the work instead of a person... except, in this case, the work is astronomy and analyzing sound waves. Most of the time, the signals Jimmy is interpreting are easily recognized to be from earth. Any astronomer, with enough experience with the equipment, could figure it out. But, then this one signal came in and it was different.

     Since I’ve already told you that there are aliens, I don’t feel like I’m spoiling anything by tell you that Jimmy figured out that this signal was from a sentient life-form on another planet. More importantly, Jimmy figured out that it was a song sent all the way here, across four lightyears, from a solar system called Alpha Centauri. As Jimmy explained how he figured out that it was an actual transmission from other beings and specifically music, Sofia began to realize that what led Jimmy to this correct revelation wasn’t simply his training in astronomy.
​
     When explaining himself, he said “The signal just looked like music to me.” Jimmy’s academic training plus his experience with the quirks of his scientific equipment plus musical training he’d had as a kid plus some work he done as a high schooler on old musical recordings combined with an experience of hearing two other characters sing together the night before to give him this epiphany. Sofia asked if another astronomer could have come to the same conclusion. He said, maybe? What he did wasn’t magic. Somebody else might have figured it out eventually. But, he also admitted that if someone else realized it was music, they might think it was from earth and not keep working on it long enough to realize that it wasn’t. That moment confirmed for Sofia that she couldn’t create a program that would have made this discovery. This discovery was possible because of Jimmy’s intuition. And, she couldn’t program intuition. 

     In The Sparrow, intuition is a skill, not a gift. Jimmy has intuition because he has learned how to connect all the pieces of his training and his life experience into knowledge that he knows is sound enough to trust. And at this vital moment, each little part of who he is... a pianist, a scientist, a man who is falling for a woman with a lovely voice... combined into this little voice in his brain that said “this transmission is a song.” His world, maybe the whole world, would never be the same after that. Sofia, for all her competence and hard work, could not download all of the pieces of his life into a computer. She could not repeat digitally what his mind had done organically. His intuition was honed and tended to in a way that computers can’t reproduce.

     I remembered this story about Jimmy’s intuition as I read today’s scripture from Luke and this description of the kindom of God as being like a tiny mustard seed and the even smaller yeast that causes dough to rise. You never know what the small thing, be it the weird high school job or the moments of shared song, will give rise to in your life. The portion of Luke that today’s reading is taken from is from the part of the story leading up Jesus entering into Jerusalem. Dr. Fred Craddock, in his commentary on this text, says that these stories from the time on the way to the city are experiences meant to prepare the disciples, and we, the readers, for what will happen in Jerusalem and what will happen at the tomb. Every little bit of this story, every experience, no matter how small, will become part of the intuition that allows the disciples, and us, to interpret Jesus’ trial, death, and, eventually, the resurrection.

     Dr. Craddock describes the parables this way: “Both (the planter and the baker) perform small acts that have expansive consequences.” Planting and baking are skills, honed over time and experience. Not every seed planted grows and not every bread mixed rises. But, the more you train... the more you practice... the more you observe... the more likely you are to trust yourself to take the right action, at the right moment, to help something grow.  Craddock thinks this is how Jesus was training his followers to take heart that, even in terrible days that were ahead, “God was still at work.” And, that they were working with the Holy Spirit in ways that they might not even see, in acts so small they might miss them, but nevertheless, whose impact will ripple out and affect life and creation far beyond their present time and place.

     Think about the things that are mustard seeds and yeast in your own life... the experiences that have grown into the life of faith that you are cultivating at this moment. Remember them and take heart. In times of confusion and fear, all these little parts of you, can come together with the Holy Spirt and guide you to great insight and right action. You might not discover aliens but you might be surprised by some other kind of new life growing forth in your midst. You are the only one who can take what you carry inside of you and use it for good. As Rev. Jayne Davis says, “And the world needs to see how God is reflected through you, the real you.” What is the kindom of God like? The very littlest bit being put to good use.

Resources consulted while writing this sermon:
Wil Gafney, "Lent V," A Women's Lectionary for the Whole Church, Year W (New York: Church Publishing Incorporated, 2022)
Fred. B. Craddock, Luke (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009).
Mary Doria Rusell, The Sparrow (New York: Ballentine Books, 1996)
Images used:  Mustard seed image: Photo by Wolfgang Hasselmann on Unsplash; Mustard plant: Photo by ross tek on Unsplash; Dry yeast: Photo by Karyna Panchenko on Unsplash; Dough: Photo by Claudia Stucki on Unsplash.