sermon excerpts: "Low Rider" (Mark 11: 1-11)

... ["Low Rider" is a term from the 1960's referring to customized cars, which are once again in vogue through movies like "Fast & Furious"]. I mention low rider in reference to the animal that Jesus rode into Jerusalem. Although I am using the term as meaning low in stature or status, which is ironic given the tricked out nature of such cars scream to be noticed the drivers and riders want to draw attention to them.

What they’d done was adapt and customize what they had to suit their needs or preferences. This is what Jesus did with his handpicked ride into the city. The colt was a deliberate and predestined choice of the Saviour seeking to manage the fickle nature of crowds, to fulfill the words of Zechariah’s ancient prophecy about the Messiah’s triumphant return, to emphasize his message of peace. ...

So maybe the image of a Saviour on a colt, a mere beast of burden, was so out of place that it caught people’s attention and imagination .... the spectacle of a ragtag group of unimportant people parading with cloaks and tree branches, crying out for salvation to a man on a colt, would warrant a second look because of the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. But it would be a telling snapshot of Jesus’ ministry: the servant king humbling himself for others to follow his example.

And what happens after? Jesus goes to the Temple. He has a look around. And goes to Bethany where he spends the night. It’s kind of anticlimactic, given all the fuss of early that day. The next day he’s back at the Temple and tossing moneychangers out on the street and really making a name for himself. But the triumphant entry into Jerusalem was in many respects, unremarkable.
For all the fuss we wonder what is going on and what it means. We can look at it a couple ways – time was running out. It was too late to do anything. Or, there is always another day, another opportunity to do God’s work.

It is this sense of time, of urgency and pressure that we find our churches facing this Easter season. For all the pomp and ceremony we’ve mustered over our history, "the sense of what do we do now?" has settled in. We’re looking around and suddenly seeing that the hour is late and there isn’t much time left for us to do anything.

Not that I’m trying to alarm or depress you with dire and catastrophic news of impending ruin. I remain firmly convinced that the Spirit of God and our own call to ministry in this community is stronger than financial hardship or flagging resources.

Much like the street racing, automotive-tinkering, low riders, we need to tailor the vehicle that is the church to be more suited to who we are and what we’re trying to do. Not to draw attention to ourselves, but as an expression of identity and a measure of effective stewardship – to use our time, energy and efforts as best we can.

What will that look like? Whether it is the building itself, part-time ministry with more reliance on the congregation’s skills, expanded partnership with other churches, I can’t say. I don’t know. It would be more honest, more streamlined, individualized to suit the personality of our community. But we have the sense that it will be lower in stature that what we’ve been used to – but that isn’t a bad thing.

Jesus rode a colt, simple and steady into what we call Holy Week. People still shouted hosanna. We, in our time, centuries and continents away remember his ministry all the more for it. Let us journey in the same manner, on a path of humbleness and holiness together. We are not alone. Thanks be to God.