The Humble King

Most people who believe in God will tell you He is all powerful and all mighty but have you ever wondered how God uses His power? Does His love for us vary depending on how good or bad we are? Is He meek and mild or is He an all consuming fire - or both? Does He wear a Kingly diadem emblazoned with jewels or is His glory His beautiful character? Perhaps in our efforts to understand our God, we somehow squeeze Him into a human box and attribute that which is temporal to that which is eternal yet, God Himself understands this and urges us to press on.

Either way, we know this much, when God came to this earth as a man made of flesh and blood, He rode a donkey - not a stallion - in the city streets, unarmed with any weapons but that of redemptive love. He "slays" the lies of Satan with ammunition of truth transforming "burning dry places" and "places where wild dogs once lay down" into pools of sweet water, tall grass and papyrus. (Isaiah 35) Now that's good news!

The following exerpts are from a sermon given by a Lutheran pastor. His message crosses denominational lines and is appropiate for year round, not just on Easter Sunday when he delivered it in 2006. Pastor David Benson writes:

Let’s suppose the president of the United States is coming to town. (I understand he’ll be close by, in Jefferson City, on Tuesday.) You and your family, or your friends, drive to the route on which he is suppose to travel to his speaking engagement, set up your lawn chairs at the side of the road and wait. Time slowly marches on and you notice that the traffic in beginning to thin out on the road. A helicopter flies over, and you wonder if that is a sign that the president is on his way. Ten minutes later, the road is eerily empty. You have never experienced no cars on this busy highway. Suddenly, two police cars are seen in the distance. They drive by and a swoosh of air hits you in the face. Then, not too far off, you see the limousine, flanked by motorcycles. The excitement builds. You know what to expect. You’ve seen motorcades on television before. The power and the glory of such a prestigious office is manifested in the car in which the president rides.

On this day, Palm Sunday, we remember another entrance of someone important into a city; the triumphal entrance of our Lord Jesus into Jerusalem. The very Creator of all that is, the omnipotent power of the universe, the One who was, is, and always will be, begins His triumphal trek to complete the mission for which He was sent. How does He enter? Like the president of the United States? Like a powerful king or sheik from an oil dynasty? In our earlier scenario at the side of the road, did you expect to see the president and his motorcade drive by in an old Plymouth Horizon or an AMC Gremlin with rusted doors? Of course not! But how did Jesus enter into the glory that you and I see and believe? He entered on a donkey.

Zechariah prophesies of the lowly entry of our Savior, declaring to us, “Lo, your king comes to you; triumphant and victorious is He, humble and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey” (Zechariah 9:9 NRSV). This is our Savior? Why would the Messiah, the King of the Universe ride on a donkey? Why would He do such a thing? Jesus would do such a thing for the very purpose of His coming— our salvation. The glory of God is in Christ’s humility and servant-hood. Just as Christ came to the earth by a humble birth in a stable, He made His entrance into Jerusalem, not on a war horse, but on a donkey, a symbol of peace and signifying the Prince of Peace. The people hailing Him as king that day did not understand the nature of His kingdom. They expected an earthly ruler who would deliver them from the oppression of the Roman Empire. But, as Jesus would tell Pontius Pilate later that week, His kingdom is not of this world. Jesus is not to be found seated on some earthly throne in a palace of this world. He doesn’t occupy the White House or broker His power in the halls of Congress. His kingdom is far greater than that. He is the King of the entire universe. His reign is not an external show of force, but something that often begins quietly in the inner being of each person who comes to know Him as their Savior and Lord. In order for us to be a part of His kingdom, we must first be knocked off the thrones of our own hearts and recognize Jesus as our rightful king, who directs our lives and calls us into His service.

Now is a good time for us to evaluate who is really King of our lives. Have selfishness and pride once again taken control of our hearts or are we truly subject to the will of Jesus, our king, in all we do? To help us reflect on this, I would like to share with you a reading from pastor and Christian author, Max Lucado. This comes form his book, The Applause of Heaven. “The legends of the Taj Mahal, they all fascinate, but there is one that haunts. The favorite wife of the Mogul emperor Shah Jahan died. Devastated, he resolved to honor her by constructing a temple that would serve as her tomb. Her coffin was placed in the center of a large parcel of land, and construc­tion of the temple began around it. No expense would be spared to make her final resting place magnificent. But as the weeks turned into months, the Shah's grief was eclipsed by his passion for the project. He no longer mourned her absence. The construction consumed him. One day, while walking from one side of the construction site to the other, his leg bumped against a wooden box. The prince brushed the dust off his leg and ordered the worker to throw the box out. Shah Jahan didn't know he had ordered the disposal of the coffin, now forgotten, hidden beneath layers of dust and time. The one the temple was intended to honor was forgot­ten, but the temple was erected anyway. Difficult to believe? Perhaps. But eerie nonetheless. Could someone build a temple and forget why? Could someone construct a palace, yet forget the king? Could someone sculpt a tribute and forget the hero?

You answer those questions. Answer them in a church.

The next time you enter an assembly of worship, position yourself where you can see the people; then decide. You can tell the ones who remember the slain one. They're wide-eyed and expectant. They're children watch­ing the unwrapping of a gift. They're servants standing still as a king passes. You don't doze in the presence of roy­alty. And you don't yawn while receiving a gift, especially when the giver is the king himself! You can also tell the ones who see only the temple. Their eyes wander. Their feet shuffle. Their hands doodle, and their mouths open, not to sing, but to yawn For no mat­ter how hard they try to stay amazed, their eyes start to glaze over. All temples, even the Taj Mahal, lose their lus­ter after a while. The temple gazers don't mean to be bored. They love the church. They can cite its programs and praise its pastors. They don't mean to grow stale. They put on hats and hose and coats and ties and come every week. But still, some­thing is missing. The one they once planned to honor hasn't been seen in a while. But those who have seen him can't seem to forget him. They find him, often in spite of the temple rather than because of it. They brush the dust away and stand ever impressed before his tomb, his empty tomb. The temple builders and the Savior seekers; you'll find them both in the same church, on the same pew, at times, even in the same suit. One sees the structure and says, "What a great church." The other sees the Savior and says, "What a great Christ!" Which do you see?” Today, this Palm Sunday, this Sunday of the Passion, may each of us renew our loyalty to Jesus, our humble King. He rules His church with truth and grace. By faith, may we all be part of His kingdom now, and long for His reappearing to usher in His everlasting kingdom to come. Amen.