Sermon: Palm Sunday 2020
Mark 11.1-11
Mark 14.3-9
Writings of Dietrich Bonhoeffer
As anybody who has been around me knows, a theologian that has had an amazing impact on me is Dietrich Bonhoeffer. This connection began, for me, even before I was in seminary. In fact, it started when I was in high school, with my dad telling me, “Hey Mark, you need to read this book.”
The book my dad was referring to was Bonhoeffer’s Letters and Papers from Prison. It is a compilation of letters to and from Bonhoeffer from 1943 until shortly before his death in April of 1945. Bonhoeffer was arrested and imprisoned for his part in an attempt to overthrow Hitler during World War 2. From this imprisonment, his removal from almost everyone of importance to him, save a few brief visits, Bonhoeffer shared some thoughts and insights that have so much to teach us today, right now. And in a powerful way, right now as our world is turned on its head as the result of the pandemic we are experiencing.
This coming Thursday, Maundy Thursday, marks the 75th anniversary of Bonhoeffer’s execution by the gestapo. It was reported that, as Bonhoeffer was being led to be hanged, one of his jailers was taunting him, saying things like, “What now, Bonhoeffer, where is your God now?” And it has been said that Bonhoeffer replied, “This is the end—for me, the beginning of life.”
What an amazing witness to the reality and hope of eternal life; of living fully, while facing death; of living in the light of Easter while experiencing the cross.
In a letter to his brother-in-law, Eberhardt Bethge, written in March of 1944, Bonhoeffer speaks to this reality:
(edition I am using: Dietrich Bonhoeffer. Letters and Papers from Prison. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2015.
Easter? We are paying more attention to dying than to death. We are more concerned to get over the act of dying than to overcome death. Socrates mastered the art of dying; Christ overcame death as the ‘last enemy.’ (1Cor. 15.26)
There is a real difference between the two things; the one is within the scope of human possibilities, the other means resurrection. It is not from the art of dying, but from the resurrection of Christ, that a new and purifying wind can blow through our present world. . .
If a few people really believed that and acted on it in their daily lives, a great deal would be changed. To live in the light of the resurrection—that is what Easter means.
In our gospel today, Jesus has entered into Jerusalem in glory, with crowds packed along the street, praising God and singing, Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! But the singing will turn to cries of “Crucify him!” Majesty and honor will shortly be replaced by humiliation, weakness. But Jesus doesn’t stop. The cross beckons, but Jesus keeps on; curing, teaching, loving.
In a sermon that Bonhoeffer delivered on December 17, 1933 while he was a pastor in London, he said this about this God of weakness, humiliation, and lowliness:
God is not ashamed of human lowliness but goes right into the middle of it, chooses someone as instrument, and performs miracles right there where they are least expected. God draws near to the lowly, loving the lost, the unnoticed, the unremarkable, the excluded, the powerless, and the broken. What people say is lost, God says is found; what people say is ‘condemned,’ God says is ‘saved.’ Where people say No! God says Yes! Where people turn their eyes away in indifference or arrogance, God gazes with a love that glows warmer there than anywhere else. Where people say something is despicable, God calls it blessed.
When we come to a point in our lives where we are completely ashamed of ourselves and before God; when we believe that God especially must now be ashamed of us, and when we feel as far away from God as ever in all our lives—that is the moment in which God is closer to us than ever, wanting to break into our lives, wanting us to feel the presence of the holy and to grasp the miracle of God’s love, God’s nearness and grace.
Maybe, like me, you are thinking, wow, that is some faith in the face of terrible things. I am not that strong, how can I have such faith?
I would like to share with you a poem Bonhoeffer wrote, while in prison, called,
Who Am I
Who am I? They often tell me
I stepped from my cell’s confinement Calmly, cheerfully, firmly,
Like a Squire from his country house.
Who am I? They often tell me
I used to speak to my warders Freely and friendly and clearly,
As though it were mine to command.
Who am I? They also tell me I bore the days of misfortune Equably, smilingly, proudly, like one accustomed to win.
Am I then really that which other men tell of?
Or am I only what I myself know of myself?
Restless and longing and sick, like a bird in a cage,
Struggling for breath, as though hands were compressing my throat, Yearning for colors, for flowers, for the voices of birds,
Thirsting for words of kindness, for neighborliness,
Tossing in expectations of great events,
Powerlessly trembling for friends at an infinite distance,
Weary and empty at praying, at thinking, at making,
Faint, and ready to say farewell to it all.
Who am I? This or the Other?
Am I one person today and tomorrow another?
Am I both at once? A hypocrite before others,
And before myself a contemptible woebegone weakling?
Or is something within me still like a beaten army Fleeing in disorder from victory already achieved?
Who am I? They mock me, these lonely questions of mine.
Whoever I am, Thou knowest, O God, I am thine!
Right now, it is easy to resonate with what Bonhoeffer was feeling:
Restless and longing and sick, like a bird in a cage,
Struggling for breath, as though hands were compressing my throat, Yearning for colors, for flowers, for the voices of birds,
Thirsting for words of kindness, for neighborliness,
Tossing in expectations of great events,
Powerlessly trembling for friends at an infinite distance,
Weary and empty at praying, at thinking, at making
Maybe, right now, we are feeling just like this.
And yet,today, dear sisters and brothers,
we begin the journey to the cross.
If Jesus, as Bonhoeffer says, is not ashamed of human lowliness and goes right into the middle of it; there is nothing so low or powerless or broken as death on a cross. And as we walk with Jesus, please know, that nothing separates you from God; that no matter what you or I am going through right now; worry, fear, grief, anything that we are experiencing in the face of covid-19, whoever we are, we belong to God. Remember that it is on the cross, that Jesus brings life.
This is the way God breaks into our lives, drawing us closer and closer. Drawing the whole world to the foot of Jesus’ cross; defeating death once and forever.