Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord

This morning I want to dig in for just a few minutes into our gospel reading. 

“Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.” 

Jesus says these words at a dinner party with some Pharisees. They’re debating about whether or not he should make his way into the capital city, Jerusalem. The Pharisees, leaders in Jesus' faith, are being pressured more and more to give in to those who have invaded the land. They’re worried that if Jesus stirs up trouble in Jerusalem the safety of the whole community will be at stake. 

Now, we might think that it’s unusual for Jesus to be at a dinner party with Pharisees. In our Christian imagination, Jesus is often pitted against the Pharisees—not wanting anything to do with them. But in Luke’s gospel, the relationship between Jesus and the Pharisees is portrayed here as one of congeniality and respect. (I heard a colleague recently liken the Pharisees to elders; they are the knowledge keepers in the community). They warn Jesus not to go into Jerusalem, concerned that Herod will execute him just as he has executed other prophets who have come into the nation’s capital. 

Jesus’ reputation as this Messiah, this rival King, has been building. Leading up to this dinner party, Jesus has been performing miracles and healing the sick. But that’s not what the Pharisees are really worried about: Jesus was seen casting out demons who call themselves “Legion”—a  nickname for the Roman army. Anytime we read about Jesus casting out “Legion,” this is a metaphor for Jesus daring to stand up to Roman rule. And now he wants to go into Jerusalem—Roman occupied headquarters. By going through the city, at a time when crowds of Jewish people would be making their pilgrimage to Jerusalem for the passover, Jesus risks being seen as making a triumphant military entry.

Back at the dinner table, Jesus seems at first to reassure the Pharisees. 

“On the third day, I finish my work” he says to them. 

When we hear “third day” , our minds maybe go straight to resurrection: on the third day, Jesus is raised from the dead. Maybe he'll go through Jerusalem, but just skip all the parts with suffering and death?

Jesus continues: “Yet today, tomorrow, and the next day I must be on my way because it is impossible for a prophet to be killed outside of Jerusalem.”

Jesus must go through Jerusalem. Jesus must journey the way of suffering and death. To travel any other road would be to give in to the powers of injustice, to ignore the reality of human suffering and death at the hands of evildoers.

Jesus must go the way of the Cross. For such a journey as this, what could he, what could any of us, possibly take that would bring any comfort? A weapon? No. Jesus doesn’t take a weapon. Armour? No armour. An army? Jesus takes no one but himself and a ragtag bunch of disciples trying to decide if they, too, have the courage to make this journey. 

As we continue this Lenten season, walking with Jesus the road to Jerusalem, we will learn that Jesus takes nothing with him on the way but scripture and prayer. One of the most remarkable things we have in common with our Jewish siblings is the book of the Psalms—which is really a book of prayers. Each Sunday at St Clement’s we sing or say a Psalm together. As a Jewish person, the Psalms would have been the language of Jesus’ prayers—the scriptures he would have been taught to pray as a young boy growing up in the synagogue; the words he would have taught to others as a rabbi. 

And, Jesus would have prayed the Psalms, as the civil rights activist, Howard Thurman, once put it, as “one who lived with his back against the wall.” The Psalms fall on the lips of Jesus the poor person, Jesus the one living in occupied territory with no civil protections, Jesus forced to become an outsider in his own holy city, a city he now makes his way in to.

Wilna reminded us last week how the work of this parish in refugee sponsorship is the work of you being light and hope in the world. Every time you put pen to reams of bureaucratic paper to help someone fleeing persecution, you journey the way of suffering and death with those who have no choice but to go this way. 

Last Sunday, Ian led us in prayer for the people of Ukraine and I know some of you have printed these prayers and put them on your fridge so you remember to pray throughout the day. Reading Ian’s prayers and listening to the prayers of this community each week, I am struck by how much the language of your prayers echo the language of the Psalms. It’s a good reminder that when we pray, we seek to align our hearts with Jesus and all who go the way of the Cross, the way of suffering and death in our time and place. 

The Psalms, though written very long ago, teach us how to pray with people facing very real danger in the world today. This morning I want to conclude my sermon by praying Psalm 27 once more. This time, maybe we can imagine ourselves in the shoes of Jesus at that dinner party, preparing to make his way to Jerusalem? Maybe we can imagine ourselves in the shoes of any one person who lives with their back against the wall? Let us pray.

The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom then shall I fear? The Lord is the strength of my life; of whom then shall I be afraid? When evildoers came upon me to eat up my flesh, it was they, my foes and my adversaries, who stumbled and fell. Though an army should encamp against me, yet my heart shall not be afraid; and though war should rise up against me, yet will I put my trust in God. One thing have I asked of the Lord; one thing I seek; that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, beholding the fair beauty of the Lord and seeking God in the temple. For in the day of trouble, O God, you shall keep me safe in your shelter; you shall hide me in the secrecy of your dwelling and set me high upon a rock. 

Even now you lift up my head above my enemies round about me. Therefore I will offer in your dwelling an oblation with sounds of great gladness; I will sing and make music to the Lord. Hearken to my voice, O Lord, when I call; have mercy on me and answer me. You speak in my heart and say , “Seek my face.” Your face, Lord, will I seek. Hide not your face from me, nor turn away your servant in displeasure. You have been my helper; cast me not away; do not forsake me, O God of my salvation. Though my father and my mother forsake me, the Lord will sustain me. Show me your way, O Lord; lead me on a level path, because of my enemies. Deliver me not into the hand of my adversaries, for false witnesses have risen up against me, and also those who speak malice. What if I had not believed that I should see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living! O tarry and await the pleasure of the Lord; be strong, and God shall comfort your heart; wait patiently for the Lord.

Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord. Amen. 


Works cited

Howard Thurman. Jesus and the Disinherited. Beacon Press: Boston, MA. 1976.
Jeremy L. Williams. “Commentary on Luke 13:31-35.” Accessed online at:
https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/second-sunday-in-lent-3/commentary-on-luke-1331-35-5