Henrietta United Church of Christ

Rev. Martha Koenig Stone

March 16, 2008 – Palm Sunday

Matthew 21:1-11

“Just One of the Crowd”

I have three stories to share with you this morning, all three about crowds.

The first is from a video I received through E-mail. It shows a group of people gathering in front of Grand Central Station on New York City. They have volunteered for a special mission: they are to enter the station, and at the exact same moment, they are to freeze. They’ll hold that pose for 5 minutes, and then at the same moment, unfreeze and go on their way. That’s it. The film moves inside the station, with all its hustle and bustle, and as you watch, you see the busy commuters rushing around. And then these volunteers, 207 of them, freeze in place, all at the same moment.

At first, no one seems to notice. But then people in the station begin to react to this strange event. Some of them slow down a bit, but walk on by.

• Some stop and cock their heads and look puzzled.
• Some go up to the “statues” and poke them to see whether they’re real or not.
• Some of them ask, “What’s going on? When did it start?” “I don’t know, I just got here. That guy dropped his papers a minute ago and he’s just standing there.”

• Some of the people even seem worried: “It’s crazy! It’s like, everyone!”
• The driver of an electric cart is stuck in the middle of the hall, because some of the frozen people are standing right in his way. He radios for help and tries to explain the situation: “I can’t move my car; there’s hundreds of people frozen everywhere! They’re not moving, I need help here!”

And then, all of a sudden, the five minutes are over, and the people unfreeze and go on their way. And the crowds who have been watching erupt in spontaneous applause. “That’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen!” They know something amazing has happened here, but they’re not sure just what.

The second is a story a colleague told me last week. Some of you may remember a man named Harvey Milk, who was the first openly gay man to be elected to public office, back in the late 1970’ in San Francisco. He was a vocal civil rights activist and was assassinated because he was gay. My friend told me about a film that was made to about the life of Harvey Milk. In order to film a scene in which Harvey was speaking in front of a crowd, the filmmakers just took volunteers from the San Francisco area, asked them to show up in 1970’s garb, and began filming, with no particular instructions. But as the filming went on, and the crowd listened to the actor giving Harvey’s speech, the crowd took on a life of its own. Inspired by the words of Harvey Milk, they began chanting, “Harvey, Harvey, Harvey!” My friend says that their unrehearsed, authentic response became one of the most moving scenes of the film.

The third story is probably more familiar to most of us. It’s the one we just read from the gospel of Matthew, the story from which we get our celebration of Palm Sunday. It reads a bit like stage directions in a drama or a movie, or maybe even an opera. Imagine a large stage, with the scenery depicting the Mount of Olives, lush with trees. Enter stage left, Jesus and his disciples. Jesus instructs the disciples about where to find a donkey and her colt, and then dispatches them to get it. Exit disciples, stage right.

Then the scene changes, and in the distance, you can see the city of Jerusalem. Enter the disciples, with animals. They drape their garments on them, and Jesus hops up and rides off. As Jesus rides along, crowds gather around him and throw down cloaks and branches, as if to make a carpet for a king. “Hosanna to the Son of David!” they call out. “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!”

Then the scene changes again, and Jesus enters Jerusalem. Imagine the stage up close; complete with palm trees waving, vendors selling their wares in the streets, pilgrims heading toward the temple for the festival of Passover. Chaos is all around—the whole city is stirred up. You can feel yourself being swept along by the people, and you can see children jumping up, trying to get a glimpse of that crazy rabbi, riding into the city—on a donkey? “Who is it? Mom, dad, what’s going on?”

And then comes the final line of the script: “The crowds said, ‘This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth of Galilee.’” So, if you’re the director of the show, what do you do with that line? How is it read? What does it mean? Do you have the crowd say it all together? Or do you have different people saying it at different times, with different inflections? Do you make it soft, like gossip passing along from one person to the next, or do you make it big and bold, a real statement?

“This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee.” Who was it, exactly, who said that?

Maybe there was a young, idealistic community organizer in the mix. Maybe he said something like, “Yes! Look! It’s the prophet Jesus, from Nazareth in Galilee! Now, maybe we’ll get some action around here…this guy knows how to work the crowd, how to inspire people. Finally we’ll get some attention from the powers that be. We’ve been waiting for this day! Our time has come!”

Or maybe those words were spoken by someone who stood back a bit, not sure what to make of the event. “What’s going on here? That’s that prophet Jesus of Nazareth in Galilee, but I’m not sure what all of this means. I’ve never seen anything like this before. He entered the city about 5 minutes ago and he’s been riding like that ever since. Maybe this is some kind of performance…some kind of street theater. Is he trying to make some kind of a point? Maybe he’s mocking Pilate on the other side of town, coming in on his white horse with the Roman Legion on his flank.”

Maybe it all began with a parent, like this: “Here, jump up on my shoulder, Jacob. It’s the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee. Can you see him? They say he’s a great teacher. I heard he even blesses children and feeds hungry peasants. The Samaritans say he’s the Messiah! Look, here he comes! Hosanna! Hosanna! Save us now!” Maybe the children passed the word on from one to the next.

Or maybe it was a cynic who said those words. “Yeah, right…Son of David? That’s just the prophet Jesus, from Nazareth in Galilee. That guy’s deluded. Thinks he can change the status quo. Doesn’t he know how powerful the Romans are? Just wait till he makes one false move. He’ll come down off his high horse. Look at that ragtag band of his! Hosanna? Fat chance of him saving anyone.”

It makes a big difference, doesn’t it? The attitudes of the people in the crowd affect the message that is conveyed. We get something different out of the story with each different reading of that line. What one person thinks and says and does influences what others think and say and do. A crowd can be moved to great action, either for ill or for good; it all depends on how each person responds to the events at hand.

The crowd in the movie about Harvey Milk was inspired to cheer and encourage a champion of civil rights. The crowd in Grand Central Station stood in awe of what people working together can accomplish. The crowds in Jerusalem on the first Palm Sunday gathered in celebration of Passover. But that air of celebration was quickly lost in the next few days, so that the crowd who gathered at Jesus’ trial turned angry and vindictive. How did “Hosanna” turn into “Crucify him!”?

Perhaps it had something to do with Jesus’ actions in Jerusalem that week—overturning the tables of the money changers in the temple, cursing the fig tree, pointing out the hypocrisy of the temple leaders. Or perhaps it had more to do with what the people said to each other about what Jesus was doing. What kind of spin did they put on his teachings and his actions? Did they really see him as a prophet…or was he just a rabble rouser? Were they working along side of him, explaining what they had learned...or were they standing back, waiting for him to take a wrong step, looking for a sensational fall from the limelight?

I’ve been impressed this week by the rollercoaster ride of politics in our country and our state. Elliot Spitzer, once the emblem of ethics in government, crashes and burns in infidelity and deception. Clinton and Obama, still neck and neck in the race for president, try to withstand the pressure of the news media breathing down their necks, waiting eagerly for brilliant moves or fatal errors. What is our responsibility as we live our lives from day to day here in the land of opportunity? Are we to wait like vultures, ready to pounce when someone takes a false step? Or do we have some other role to play in the drama of American life? What are we looking for? Holiness? Regime change? Same old same old? Forgiveness? Peace? Power? Nothin’much at all?

Sometimes I think we look in the wrong place altogether. We’ve got our eyes fixed on the pomp and circumstance instead of the real stuff of life. We hardly even notice Jesus on the donkey; we’re too busy following Pilate on the while horse. Imagine if you could set aside everything you’ve heard this week about politics for a moment. Listen instead to this description of the NY State Youth Event, which I attended last weekend with youth from HUCC and 140 others from all around the state. Here’s how Kaitlin Meyer describes her experience there: “Every time I go to State Youth Event I come home feeling refreshed, relaxed, and amazed. The connections and friendships made at SYE are like no other; they are some of my best friends, even though we only see each other for one weekend every year. At Watson I am able to release all the stress that’s accumulated from the week, and really worship (and have a good time doing it!)” Where is the crowd that’s talking about those experiences? And what if the quality of relationship that is shared there could become the foundation for solid relationships elsewhere?

This Holy week, as you remember the last few days of Jesus’ earthly life, I ask you to examine your life as “one of the crowd.” Think about how your voice influences others. Do you find yourself complaining, discouraged, jaded, resigned? Or do you offer words of reconciliation and hope, vision and direction? What if the things you choose to say about your life, and the positions you take on what’s happening in the world, could influence a few of the people you know? What great movement might come about by the murmurings you start in your home or your neighborhood? If you thought of your words as the catalyst for someone else’s actions, might you choose what you say more carefully?

And what about us as a church…what does our voice as a community of faith offer to the world? Do we put words of skepticism, of fear, of anger and hatred into the mix? Or do we offer words of inspiration and encouragement? Are we swept away by the emotion of the moment? Or do we stand back and wait to take a stand until we’re sure? Do we perhaps wait too long sometimes, and miss the chance to make an impact? Or do we engage fully in God’s work, trusting that even our worst mistakes can be redeemed by Christ? What great things might come about if the “crowd” that is HUCC began crowing about our wonderful youth events or our love of the earth or the compassion we find in the Spirit of Christ?

This week, we are faced again with that crazy rabbi on a donkey: who dared to expose the powers of oppression, who dared to tell the truth in the face of danger, who dared to care about the poor and the sick and the stranger and the little children, who dared to put relationship above fame and fortune, who dared to forgive criminals and enemies, and whose example continues to confront and inspire us. Let us continue, one voice at a time, and many voices together, to tell the story of the prophet Jesus of Nazareth in Galilee: our teacher, our friend, our judge, our lord and master, our mother hen, the savior of the world, the resurrection and the life. And may the still-speaking God speak through us! Amen.