Transcript
What Does the Lord Require? Rejoicing
First Baptist Richmond, April 13, 2025
Palm Sunday
Luke 19:28-40
Now as he was approaching the path down from the Mount of Olives, the whole multitude of the disciples began to praise God joyfully with a loud voice for all the deeds of power that they had seen, saying, “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest heaven!”
Last August, when I was planning my preaching for the year, it seemed like a good idea to do a Lenten sermon series called “What Does the Lord Require?” where I would look for those places in the lectionary readings where God says exactly what he means and wants us to do exactly what he says. It still seemed like a good idea on the First Sunday of Lent, when we talked about gratitude, and on the Sundays after that, when we talked about faith, and searching, and confession, and vision. But the only clear command I could find in this Sunday’s readings was the word rejoice and I’m not sure how to command that. It’s a bit like saying, “Be happy!” or, “Be sad!” How do you command a feeling? So, I started thinking about those times when people rejoice naturally, when they just can’t help themselves, and the thing that came to mind was sports.
Which may surprise you, because, if you’ve been listening to me preach for a while, you know that I almost never talk about sports. I think there’s a reason for that. I think it’s because I grew up in West Virginia where learning to love sports was difficult. There is very little flat ground in West Virginia. There aren’t a lot of football or baseball fields. My brothers and I once put up a basketball goal on a
flat spot behind our house because there were six of us—enough for a full team plus a water boy—but we soon discovered that if you missed the backboard (which we did, often), the basketball would bounce down the hill, into the woods, and end up in the underbrush where it might take us as long as a week to find again. As a consequence we didn’t get much practice, and that’s probably why I still can’t make a free throw.
So, I’m not a big sports fan. I don’t watch a lot of basketball. But in 1992, for whatever reason, I found myself sitting in front of a television set watching the East Regional Final between Duke University and the University of Kentucky. It had been a close game from the beginning, with the top two teams in the nation battling it out for a spot in the Final Four. With 2.1 seconds remaining in overtime, defending national champion Duke was behind 102–103. The Blue Devils got the ball. Grant Hill threw a pass three-quarters of the length of the court to Christian Laettner, who faked right, dribbled once, turned, and hit the jumper just as the buzzer sounded. To this day, Duke fans refer to it as “the shot.” It is one of the most iconic moments in basketball history. If you look it up on the Internet you can watch the video, and as part of my research for this sermon I did, several times. It’s an incredible shot, but what I was looking for was the reaction of the fans, and that was even more incredible.
Have you ever heard an announcer say, “And the crowd goes wild!” Well, that’s what they did—the Duke part of the crowd, that is. They went wild. They couldn’t help themselves. They leaped out of their seats and pumped their fists in the air as if it had been them, and not Christian Laettner, who had just made the winning shot. And maybe that’s why people love sports so much. They identify with their team. Their fortunes and the team’s fortunes are bound together. If the
team wins they win, and if the team loses, well… You should have seen the Kentucky fans.
But this is how it happens. You start following a team because you live in the same town, or because your dad always rooted for them, or because you know somebody who knows somebody whose kid is on the team, and before you know it you start to care about whether they win or lose. And if they’re having a winning season you get excited, you begin to think maybe they’ll go all the way. And if they get into the playoffs you watch every minute of every game. And if they end up in the East Regional Final, and it comes down to a last second jump shot, and the shot goes in, you and all the other fans go wild.
But we’re not here to talk about basketball. You may have already guessed that. It’s Sunday morning; this is church; and I’m a preacher. Eventually we’re going to end up talking about Jesus, as we should. But I’m thinking about how he started his career, and how people began to follow him, and how it began to matter to them whether he won or lost. And when I say won or lost I mean exactly that; from the very beginning of his ministry Jesus faced opposition. You could almost read through the gospels and put a “W” or an “L” beside each confrontation with the religious authorities, the political authorities, the forces of evil and the forces of nature.
For example: in the first chapter of Mark’s gospel Jesus is teaching in the synagogue in Capernaum when a man with an unclean spirit says, “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth! Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are: the Holy One of God!” But Jesus commands the spirit to come out, and it does, and that’s a win for Jesus.
After that he heals Peter’s mother-in-law, he cures the sick in Capernaum,
he casts out demons, he cleanses a leper, and in chapter two, when four friends let a paralytic down through the roof Jesus tells him that his sins are forgiven. The scribes say, “This is blasphemy!” But Jesus says, “Which is harder, to forgive his sins or heal his body?” And then he does, and that’s another win for Jesus.
In chapter 3 he heals a man with a withered hand, he teaches by the seashore and tells his disciples to have a boat ready for him so the crowds won’t crush him. When he’s finished he asks the disciples to take him to the other side of the lake. On the way a storm comes up and Jesus stills the storm so that his disciples say: “Who is this, that even the wind and the waves obey him?” And that’s another win for Jesus.
He heals the demoniac, the woman with the flow of blood, he raises Jairus’ daughter from the dead, he feeds the 5,000, he walks on water, he confronts the religious authorities, he heals a deaf man, he teaches in parables, he shines like the sun. All he does is win, win, win, win, win, and by the time he gets to Jericho he is undefeated. Mark says that a “large crowd” was following him. To add to his string of victories he heals Blind Bartimaeus, and Bartimaeus joins the crowd going up to Jerusalem.
But when they get there (if you can forgive the analogy), Jesus is like the star player on a winning team, and he has brought not only his teammates but also all his fans with him. And again (if you can forgive the analogy), Bartimaeus is like the head cheerleader. He had gotten his sight back only a couple of days earlier. He did it by shouting, “Jesus, son of David, have mercy on me!” And now, as he leads that crowd down the slopes of the Mount of Olives and into the city, he feels the joy rising and he can’t stop it. He doesn’t want to stop it. He shouts out, “Hosanna!” in a loud voice, and then he shouts again, “Hosanna to the Son of
David!”
And the crowd goes wild.
Because they know who they are with: they are with Jesus. They have heard him preach and teach. They have watched him help and heal. They are completely convinced that he is the Messiah they have been waiting for all their lives and right then, right there, in the city of Jerusalem, at the beginning of the Passover, they let out all their pent-up joy. “Hosanna!” they shout. “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!
Nobody had to tell them to rejoice. Nobody had to command it. Luke tells us that the Pharisees tried to stop them from rejoicing, but Jesus said, “If these were silent the stones would shout out.” And what Jesus means, I think, is that when God begins to have his way in the world, that is, when his Kingdom starts to come, then those of us who belong to him have to rejoice—have to! We can’t stop ourselves. And so, if one of the things we are supposed to do as God’s people is rejoice, then we have to pay attention to the world around us, we have to notice those moments when God has his way, and we have to let them fill us with joy.
We talk a lot around First Baptist about bringing heaven to earth but we also acknowledge there are times when it just comes, whether or not we had anything to do with it. I ask people to think about that, and if they happen to witness a moment like that, to take a picture of it. Back in 2012-2013 when we were doing that yearlong, every member mission trip that we called KOH2RVA one of our members, Melissa Brooks, forged a partnership with the Anna Julia Cooper Episcopal School, a school that was started to help kids in the housing projects get a better educational foundation. Mike Maruca is the head of school, and he would
stand at the front door and greet every child by name as they came to school in the morning. If one of them was missing he would go across the street to knock on their door to find out why. Melissa was impressed by that. She struck up a friendship and then forged a partnership and that’s how it happened that one day a bus from the Anna Julia Cooper School pulled up in front of First Baptist Church and a bunch of sixth graders got out, blinking in the bright sunshine of Monument Avenue.
They came to read with our preschoolers, and that’s the picture that comes to mind: one of those sixth grade boys from the projects, a little on the heavy side, wearing glasses, sitting on the carpet in a preschool classroom, while a little blonde-haired girl leans against him and listens to every word as he reads aloud from a big, bright picture-book. The sun was streaming in through a window in that photograph, and a beam of light fell on those two as they were reading in a way that made it look as if God himself were blessing that moment, as if heaven had come to earth. When I see that picture I feel joy. I can’t hold it in. I have to let it out. I want to shout “Hosanna!” or something, because God’s kingdom is coming. You can see it.
I believe that if we are paying attention we will see it all the time, and if we are being faithful we will help to bring it in. This recent challenge to our congregation—to volunteer a thousand hours of service in exchange for a hundred thousand dollars—has been inspiring. People have been volunteering everywhere, all the time, doing things they don’t usually do as a way of bringing heaven to earth.
Last week I went to Lakewood, the big retirement community in the West End, to lead a communion service. I had a little time afterward and I went to the
healthcare wing. When I got off the elevator I heard someone playing a ukulele, and when I turned the corner I saw that it was Linn Kreckman, one of our long-time members. She was sitting beside her dad, Jack Pierce, who has been a member even longer than she has, and playing the ukulele he had given her when she was ten years old. She was playing—and singing!—for a very small but very appreciative audience, “Can’t Help Falling in Love,” a song that Elvis Presley made famous.
Later I asked her what led her to do such a thing and she said, “Well, I’m trying to meet that challenge. I’m trying to do something that will bring heaven a little closer to earth.” Linn Kreckman, who might have told me she was too important to sit around playing the ukulele, told me instead that she was trying to bring joy into people’s lives, and it brought joy into mine. I felt it welling up inside me. If I had thought to shout “Hosanna!” I might have done so, but instead I just joined in. Linn’s version was pitched a little high for my voice but together we sang, “Wise men say only fools rush in, but I can’t help falling in love with you.” The four or five people who were sitting there closed their eyes and smiled and if someone had taken a picture you could have put it up on a KOH2RVA bulletin board and said, “This is what it looks like when heaven comes to earth.”
I love it that God wants us to rejoice, that it is one of his clear commands. And I love it that he keeps working in the world to give us reasons to rejoice, even on the darkest days. Remember that when Jesus rode into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday he was less than a week away from his own death. He knew it, and his disciples knew it. He had told them more than once. But on that day, in spite of that, they couldn’t help rejoicing. As Luke says, “The whole multitude of the disciples began to praise God joyfully with a loud voice for all the deeds of power
that they had seen.” God’s kingdom was coming.
So, if we can pay attention, if we can see all those ways his light is breaking through the darkness, we will feel the joy begin to bubble up inside us and eventually we will have to let it out. We won’t be able to stop ourselves. It will feel like winning the national championship. “I tell you the truth,” Jesus said, “If these were silent the stones would shout out.”
—Jim Somerville © 2025
