The Lord Needs
“The Lord Needs”
Psalm 118:1-2, 19-29 Mark 11:1-11
Palm Sunday, Year B, March 28, 2021
First Presbyterian Church, Sandpoint, Idaho
Andy Kennaly, Pastor
Where is God? What is God doing? How do we find God? How do we recognize and draw near to God’s Presence? How do we sense, and do, God’s will? What is God’s purpose? This brief passage from Mark not only answers these questions, but does something even more important: it allows these questions to stand on their own without the need for answers. The answers are revealed in the asking.
Where is God? In the context of Mark’s gospel, it’s assumed God lives in Jerusalem. This passage begins, as “they were approaching Jerusalem,” and it concludes when Jesus “entered Jerusalem and went into the temple.” The Holy of Holies, the inner most part of the Temple, is where God lives. It’s restricted, by the way. Not even Jesus was allowed to go in there. Jesus doesn’t stay. “When he had looked around at everything, as it was already late, he went out to Bethany with the twelve.” This is a new image to answer the question, “Where is God?” Jesus goes out to Bethany, a tiny, obscure village, outside Jerusalem; with the twelve, away from the crowds of mainstream culture, the centers of power, and religious expressions and beliefs. A new image of where God is.
What is God doing? How do we find God? Notice the references to the edges, the outskirts. This passage is laced with fringe. The one image of being in the center, as Jesus looks around at everything in the temple, almost has an empty feeling to it. It’s already late, so he leaves. The Temple and the time don’t compel him to stay in what was supposedly the center. It’s on the edges where the action is. Notice these references: “approaching Jerusalem, near the Mount of Olives, the village ahead of you, a colt tied near a door, outside in the street, on the road, out to Bethany.” It’s on the edges, the margins of experience, outside known comfort zones, where God’s presence and activity is most noticeable.
How do we recognize and draw near to God’s Presence? By moving to the margins, letting go of our desire for center stage. Notice Jesus sends them ahead of him. Away from the group, yet not alone, nor abandoned. There are two, together, supporting each other on their mission to find this colt. In their work, they are a direct representation of Jesus himself. As they enter the movement on the edges, they experience resistance. That’s usually a good indicator that God’s will is at work: it encounters resistance.
The two enter the village and find the colt. Jesus is sure to include in his instructions what to do when inevitable resistance arises. “If anyone says to you, ‘Why are you doing this?’ just say this, ‘The Lord needs it and will send it back here immediately.’” A few days later, when Pilate asks him the same thing, “Why are you doing this?” he doesn’t say anything because he’s already said it.
Remember, the Romans occupy the land and as the dominant Empire wields power, people are familiar with conscription. A Roman soldier could tell someone to carry their equipment, maybe up to a mile. After this involuntary enlistment, the person was ordered to return immediately. This is a power thing showing authority. Notice the bystanders question the disciples, asking, “What are you doing, untying the colt?” They ask and answer their own technical question of what’s happening. “What are you doing?” They already know, they are “Untying the colt.” This is more than logistics. Rather, this points to power and aspects of authority, like the earlier question Jesus says they will hear, “Why are you doing this?” In other words, “Why are you doing this?” Who are you, who do you think you are, to take such an action? For whom is this colt being untied? Just say this: “The Lord needs it and will send it back immediately.” Then they allow them to take it. They “allow” them. The resistance is broken through a proper exercise of authority, not by force or coercion. They recognize a dynamic of participation, and they allow this. God does not force God’s way on people. We invite God, we consent.
It’s not a war horse, not a stallion or a chariot. An unridden colt is a sign of humility, a symbol of coming in peace. Jesus is making it very obvious as to the nature of his ministry and what God’s will involves. Then the people lay their cloaks out and spread leafy branches. One image offered is met by another! The colt gets cloaked! Humility is ignored as pride overrides it. Peace is rejected as nationalist zeal and tones of violent intent, all in the name of God, are enlisted.
To illustrate this resistance and disconnect, if we use shapes as analogies, Jesus, on a transparent sphere is showing God’s multidimensionality, but the people, on a flat plane of existence, prefer two-dimension living. Like John’s gospel puts it, “The light shines, but the people prefer the darkness.” The people stay bound to the limits of their expectations and views. Their narrow perspectives, their interpretation of Messiah as political savior who would remove Rome’s control, miss the point of God’s Word becoming flesh and dwelling among us. There is blatant misunderstanding, but Jesus goes anyway.
Fast-forward two thousand years and this archetypal scene continues. We are still left with questions for our own context, our own experience of faith, and our own calling to respond to God’s action and activity in our lives. God awaits our consent, and knows full well that we will misunderstand, and resist.
That Jesus goes anyway shows the power of love. Love loves us, anyway. Love knows that the crowd with expectations soon become people with resentments and those praising God with Hosannas today, later in the week will shout out, “crucify him!” That there is misunderstanding and resistance is not surprising. The amazing gift and continued miracle is that Jesus goes anyway and we, as disciples, are sent on ahead.
That’s another gift this text brings. The ongoing dynamic of life is shown by what the disciples are told to say. “Just say this, ‘The Lord needs it and will send it back immediately.’” Isn’t it wondrous that the Lord would have a need? Not only have a need, but be dependent on others to help fulfill that need. God calls, and if that call is perceived, that call can be answered. And in the answering, even though imperfection is part of the deal, nothing is lost or destroyed. The colt is returned immediately.
What a comfort in life to know that our biggest distresses do not derail the larger purposes of God. Somehow, even the most perplexing situations, the times where we may feel like those disciples, out there on our own up against powers and principalities that are far beyond our control, God may seem distant or detached; even then God is at work. “Jesus looked around at everything, as it was already late.” Redemptive outcomes that would not have been possible without the resistance, the struggle, the misperceptions; these emerge as mystery engages matter and Incarnational faith takes shape, in spiritually enriched, organic ways.
Coming alongside that image as Jesus says, “The Lord needs it” we can translate that into our own lives and spiritual practices. As contemplation, silence and stillness invite us to an active form of letting go, of dying to ourselves, of giving over our lives to God, of lowering our resistance, so too, actions and responding to a life that is ‘sent’ connect experiential faith with expressive living. Hearing “the Lord needs it,” we can ask, what two things can you do in your life this week to respond to the Lord? What is it the Lord is asking you to do, to go out ahead of Jesus with a mission? What are two things you can do to embody God’s humble love shared with the world? These two things will likely reveal the most if they involve something outside your comfort zone, on the margins, in the fringe, something that asks a great deal from you, where all you have is trust.
As we enter Holy Week, we’re reminded that all of time is hallowed and sacred. As we follow the footsteps of Jesus to the cross, we’re reminded that every place is sacred ground. May God’s creative power continue to send us forth, to move beyond the flatland of our own perspectives, to give God consent to send us as the Lord needs, and to trust that somehow everything belongs in God’s redemptive purpose of loving grace. Thanks be to God for tying up a colt outside the door. May we have courage to pull the rope and take our place in that larger parade of participation as God’s will is done, on Earth as in heaven. And may God’s humble, vulnerable love, be glorified now, even as forever. Amen.