Center us in your loving presence this day, O God. Help us listen for your encouraging and inspiring word for us in the story of Palm Sunday. And may we open ourselves to transformation as we take this journey with Jesus into Jerusalem and into this Holy Week. Amen.
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During our Lenten sermon series this year we have been considering the countercultural values Jesus embodied and how we might embody them too. We’ve focused on practicing compassion and a willingness to be agents of God’s healing love, on having the courage to stand up for others (and for justice, grace, and mercy in the process), and on living truthfully with integrity. Today, we conclude with the practice of humility.
And this is going to be the best sermon on humility you’ve ever heard! Just kidding!
Palm Sunday is a threshold day that moves us into Holy Week and into the final days of our Lenten journey. Once again, we find ourselves on this familiar road with Jesus who is riding a borrowed donkey, his disciples walking alongside, and the amassing crowd preparing the way for him by laying down their cloaks and branches and joining the processional as they travel down from the Mount of Olives and into the heart of Jerusalem.
They were peasants and pilgrims, locals and travelers, all there to celebrate Passover and to remember their ancestors’ liberation from Pharaoh’s Egypt. The population swelled and the city buzzed with activity.
“Hosanna!” “Save us,” they yelled, crying out for freedom again, as their ancestors did. “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David! Hosanna in the highest heaven!”
This is more than an impromptu parade. It’s a sort of protest march. And it is an intentional enactment by Jesus and his disciples of the vision of the prophet Zechariah who said:
Rejoice greatly, O daughter Zion! Shout aloud, O daughter Jerusalem! See, your king comes to you; triumphant and victorious is he, humble and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey. He will cut off the chariot from Ephraim and the war horse from Jerusalem; and the battle bow shall be cut off, and he shall command peace to the nations; his dominion shall be from sea to sea and from the River to the ends of the earth.
It’s likely that on the same day, on the other side of town, Pontius Pilate was having a parade of his own, riding into town on his war horse, surrounded by Roman soldiers riding and walking alongside him, armed with spears and swords. He traveled from his villa by the sea into Jerusalem every year in order to monitor the crowds. Passover was prone to uprisings and demonstrations and Rome kept a close eye on the situation.
The contrasts are stark: A donkey… a war horse. A crowd of peasants and disciples… Roman soldiers. Cloaks and leafy branches… spears and swords. Humble Jesus… Pompous Pilate.
Rome relied on violence and demonstrations of military might to maintain its power, control, and domination over its vast empire and the various territories it occupied. And Pilate had a reputation for brutality. We know this not only because the Judeans didn’t like him. Some of his contemporary Romans wrote about his viciousness too.
Such a system of autocracy fosters hubris. So, it’s not really surprising that Pilate and others like him were known to be pompous bullies. Anything less than total commitment to the ways of the empire was seen as weakness, lack of ambition, and inadequate leadership. Too much leniency and you could be leaving the door open for an uprising. Better to overcompensate.
This is the world Jesus lived in. He knew Rome well. He knew the risks. And yet, in spite of all that, he courageously chose that day to publicly embody an alternative vision of peace, joy, community, and humility.
Hubris or humility. The way of empire or the way of Jesus.
Jesus’ humility was countercultural. I think humility has been countercultural throughout much of human history, actually. And it is still countercultural now. We see it all the time. Pomposity gets press. Dogmatic attempts at domination are sugar-coated and branded as “strong leadership.” Angry social media rants get amplified (whether accurate or not). Hubris is still rewarded by our culture.
And it can be a challenge sometimes and it takes courage to live into the humble way of Jesus in such a climate. But others have followed in the way of Jesus throughout history. And we can take some inspiration and encouragement from them. St. Francis did in the midst of warring Italian city-states and church leaders who got caught up in the fray. Celtic Christians did despite pressures to conform to state religion and the colonization of their homelands. Civil rights leaders in our own country modeled calm and steady peaceful resistance in the face of violent and systemic racism. And there are many more who have done the same, both historical and contemporary.
As we consider what humility might look like for us in our own lives, I do think it’s important to note what humility is not.
Humility is not a lack of self-worth. Humility is not laying down like a doormat that others can walk all over. Humility is not avoiding ever speaking your mind because your ideas might be different and challenging to someone else. Humility is not oppressive silencing of another.
Instead, humility is a choice we make for ourselves. And I think true and healthy humility is made possible when we are grounded, rooted, and centered in what is most true and most important. And for us, as people of faith who are doing our best to follow Jesus, we are called to place our trust in God’s love for us and to embody God’s love for all creation.
Faith itself can be an intentional act of humility. It is an act of deference to that which is bigger than ourselves. Being open to the wonder and mystery of God, the movement of the Spirit, and God’s invitation into relationship with all life invites a posture of humility.
And, as we know, when religion lacks humility, it can become dogmatic, closed-minded, and exclusive, lacking in awe, and overly concerned with control rather than relationship. That’s not the kind of relational religion Jesus modeled for us.
In fact, I think relationality has a lot to do with it. How we interact with others is an expression of who we are and what is most important to us. And, to the extent it’s possible, we can intentionally choose humility in our interactions. Relationships go both ways, of course. We can only act for ourselves.
But it seems to me, that while hubris tends to put up barriers between people, humility has the potential to bring us closer together and into deeper relationship.
Instead of competition, control, and hierarchy, the path of humility can lead us toward collaboration, connection, and community.
Instead of posturing and seeking power, the path of humility can lead us toward service, care, compassion, seeing and meeting the needs of others.
Instead of thinking that we know it all already, the path of humility can lead us into new learning and new growth.
Instead of falling into patterns of exclusion, circling the wagons, othering, and scapegoating, the path of humility can lead us into openness to others, relationship with those whose identities and experiences differ from our own, and more just and peaceful ways of living together on this planet we all call home.
I had the opportunity this week to hear two people speak about their experiences as immigrants living in the U.S. who are simply seeking safety, the opportunity to work and contribute to their community, and a good life. They modeled humility and courage in sharing their stories. If we are to find more just way forward together, we have to listen to one another with respect and compassion, learn from others’ experiences, and work together.
A posture of humility invites us to serve one another.
Think about how a more widespread posture of humility and service could change the global economy and confront poverty, shift the tide of the political landscape (in the United States and across the world). How might a posture of humility and service help us prioritize the ways in which we employ our ever-changing technological advances and aid us in the pursuit of science to address our urgent environmental concerns?
I realize that some days hopeful and imaginative visions for our collective future feels impossible and worlds away from the one we’re living in.
Jesus and his first followers felt that too. It’s human.
But it strikes me that perhaps hopelessness itself might be a kind of hubris. Who are we to say that anything is impossible? Perhaps when we find ourselves in places of negativity, the path of humility and service can lead us back to hope, back to openness to see what new life may be waiting around the corner, and back to joy.
You know, joy itself is a kind of resistance to the pompous and the powerful. It diffuses some of their power. Pilate and the Romans may have had control over most other aspects of the lives of those in the crowd that day with Jesus. But they couldn’t control their joy and their passion (at least not in that moment). Their songs of liberation rang out loud and clear. They waved their branches joyfully and laid them down lovingly preparing the way for Jesus. They found joy in solidarity and community with one another in spite of the real fears they faced and the reality of occupation they endured.
The path of humility is one of openness, openness to joy, to love, to the Spirit’s leading, and back to one another.
According to the Gospel of John, on the last night Jesus gathered with his disciples he modeled humility for them in a new way by taking on the role of a servant and washing their feet. As their teacher, leader, and friend, he taught them by example one last time what love, humility, compassion, care, and service look like. It was a simple thing. It might have been a slightly awkward thing for some of them. Peter made it kind of awkward by refusing at first and then asking for Jesus to wash his hands and head too. But I’m sure it was a lesson and a memory that stuck with them.
All of us are called to serve in such a way. Serve with love. Serve with compassion. Serve with tenderness. Serve with kindness. Serve with humility.
That’s the way of Jesus. And that’s the way we are called to follow. And so, as we follow in the humble way of Jesus with joy and love, peace and hope, let us be open to the journey, open to the companions we find on the way, and open to new destinations, new experiences, new stories, and the possibility of new life waiting around the corner
Amen.