Luke 19:28-40
April 10, 2022
The more advanced space exploration
becomes the more science and the world learns about the intricacies and
complexities of space. I’m not talking about the gazillionaires like Jeff Bezos
who are now sending manned rockets into space. I’m talking about scientists
from institutions like NASA who are sending satellites and telescopes like
Voyager and Hubble into the farthest reaches of our galaxy and beyond. Hubble
has sent back astonishing pictures from deep space, and satellites are now
recording the sounds of space.
I don’t profess to understand how
this works, but I will do my best to tell you about what I have read. The
sounds of space are not sounds that the human ear can detect. I think that’s
because the vacuum of space would prevent us from hearing anything. But these
sounds are recorded as data, and then instruments translate that data into
sounds. The sounds that are being made are reverberations. Earthquakes well
below the surface of Mars have been recorded. There are lightning storms
beneath the clouds on Saturn, and that crackling, sparking sound has been
recorded. A few years ago, I read about how a satellite deep into space had picked
up the sound of a black hole being formed. I listened to the recording which
was available on the NASA website over and over again. It was like a distant and
faint ping, but it was there.
I wish I had the kind of mind that
could grasp the physics and math that goes into understanding all the nuances
of space, but I know that I don’t have to know all of that to be fascinated and
humbled by what is being learned about our universe. To know that the rocks and
gasses and heat and light of space are making distinct sounds is enough to
bring me to my knees with wonder.
The next time you go out at night
and look up at a starry sky, consider the fact that those stars and planets in
the heavens above us are literally telling the glory of God.
It occurred to me that if the rocks
and gasses of space make sounds through reverberations, then surely the rocks
that we stand upon make those sounds too. We live in a noisy world, but if we
could get quiet, really, really quiet, if the whole world would fall into
silence just for a moment, then maybe we would hear the stones shouting about
the coming of a king.
Luke’s gospel is the only version of
Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem that records this unique detail. Though
all four gospel writers include this significant moment in Jesus’ ministry,
they each tell the story from their own unique perspective; they give it their
own distinctive twist.
Luke makes no mention of palms or
leafy branches, just cloaks. Matthew and Mark both recount that the people laid
down their cloaks and leafy branches they had cut in the fields. Matthew has Jesus commanding the disciples to
bring a colt and a donkey. John just has palm branches and it’s a donkey’s colt
that is brought for Jesus to ride on. I mention this because I think we
sometimes fall into the habit of assuming we know the story when actually each
gospel presents a slightly different telling of the events surrounding Jesus’
entry into Jerusalem.
Yet
whether its cloaks or palms, a donkey, a colt, or some combination thereof, all
the gospels tell how Jesus made his way into Jerusalem surrounded by great
crowds of cheering, confident people. They are confident in his kingship and
their greeting expresses all their faith, their hope, and their expectations.
However,
in our reading today, these aren’t just general groups of people gathered to
see what all the fuss is about and getting caught up in the moment. These are
described as the “multitude of disciples.” Luke does not give us any clear
understanding as to whether this multitude was also part of that fickle crowd
who called for Jesus’ death later in the week.
Perhaps these are disciples who stayed loyal to Jesus until the end.
Perhaps not.
As
I said earlier, in Luke’s version the most significant difference from the
other gospels comes at the end of the story. As Jesus is processing, and as the
people are shouting and cheering, some dismayed Pharisees along the route try
to pressure Jesus into making his disciples stop their yelling, their cheering,
and acts of adoration.
I don’t think it’s fair to just assume
that the Pharisees were being the spoil sports of the day, trying to rain on this
divine parade. It is possible that some of the Pharisees were eager to see
Jesus finally arrive in Jerusalem. Perhaps not all of them wanted his head on a
silver platter. But they may have been concerned, deeply concerned, that all
this commotion and hubbub would draw the attention of the wrong people. The
multitude of disciples were not just shouting for joy after all. They were
shouting and proclaiming,
“Blessed is the king who comes in
the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest heaven!”
Blessed is the king.
Just shouting these words could be
considered treason. So, it is quite possible the Pharisees were worried that
the Roman government would not see this event as something to be pleased about.
In fact, it could bring Roman wrath raining down on every Jew in the vicinity
and beyond. These were not hateful or ridiculous concerns on the part of the
Pharisees. But when they voice them to Jesus, his response does nothing to
reassure them.
“I
tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout out.”
Even
if Jesus were to enter Jerusalem in absolute silence, the multitude of
disciples hailing his approach with only mute stares and glassy eyes, the noise
from the stones would still be deafening. If the human creation would not
proclaim the coming of the Lord, the rest of creation would.
The
stones would shout.
Although Luke does not give us palms
in his version, it is still Palm Sunday; the day when we commemorate the
triumphal entry of Jesus into
And the crowds who hailed Jesus that
day believed that he was their king, their long-awaited Messiah, the victorious
champion who would change everything for them from that point on. They were
expectant and eager and hopeful for all that Jesus was about to do. But we who
know the rest of the story know that Jesus did not meet their expectations. We
know that the kind of conquering Jesus did was not military or political or a
form of violent overthrow. I guess the claim could be made that Jesus did come
to conquer, but it was accomplished through sacrificial love, not military might,
or worldly power.
But if you were a part of the crowd
that day and you expected and longed for military might or worldly power, then
the kind of conquering Jesus brought was a disappointment. So, these multitude
of disciples, and eventually these fickle crowds, turn their backs on Jesus
when they realized he was not the warrior they wanted.
But
we know differently, don’t we? We know who Jesus was and is and what he really
accomplished in Jerusalem. We know the truth that was found on that cross and
when the stone was rolled away from an empty tomb. We like to
believe that we know differently at least. We think we understand, but like the
disciples we don’t always get it. We cannot always see Jesus for who he was and
who he is, even when he is right in front of us.
But even if we fail to hail Jesus as
the triumphant king, even if we were to grow silent at his approach, the stones
will shout. Maybe what Luke is trying to get across to his readers and us is
that even if we don’t always get it, even if we’re sometime as fickle as those
crowds or as prone to misunderstanding as the early disciples, it doesn’t
matter. The stones would shout. Even if no one turned up to hail
Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem, the city where God’s greatest triumph would take
place, it does not matter, because the stones would shout. Even if we miss the
opportunity to proclaim Jesus; the stones will shout. Creation itself will make
a thunderous, clamorous noise.
Because from the beginning to the
end, nothing can stop the glory of God. Nothing can hinder that glory from
permeating the world and transforming it. The glory of God, the triumph of
Jesus has set all of creation free. Even if we remain silent, never raising our
voice or even clearing our throat, the stones will shout.
And the stones are shouting indeed. The
stones are shouting that God has come, God is coming, the Lord is at hand, our
Savior soon dwells among us. Every stone is shouting of the glory of the Lord.
Every rock, tree, flower, shrub, rolling hill, and mountain peak is declaring
that the King of glory is coming. Even the heavens are telling the glory of
God. On this day, this triumphant day before the darkness descends, and we wait
for the return of the Light, let us join with all creation and shout our joy
that the Lord is coming. Let us make the foundation of this church and this
town and this world ring with our cries and our hosannas. Jesus is coming! Let
the stones shout!
Let
all of God’s children say, “Amen!”
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