Demonstrating Your Faith

True religion is not unlike the circus. 
It offers mystery, miracle, risk, and a glow that lingers through the years.

 "When they ask what happened here,
  We'll simply say Christ came by and we learned his dance..." 

The Christ we remember riding into Jerusalem that Palm Sunday long ago,
the Christ we experience and know to be with us today in thick and in thin,
the Christ we call Lord,
is the Lord of the Dance,
the Lord of all that is our life.

 
Parades seem to have a way of stirring up emotions and releasing us from inhibitions, don’t they?  
(I believe that is one of the main motivating factors for those who participate in the Mummers Day Parade each year.) 
It's what we see in Marti Gras parades. 
And it's what we see happening in our scripture reading today.

Contrary to some of the movies you have seen,
not every one in Jerusalem participated in the parade that day. 
To be sure, most people didn't know anything was going on –  
or hadn't a clue what it was about if they did see it happening. 
It would have been not unlike a demonstration on Broad Street that tied up traffic during rush hour some day. 
Unless you were there, and encountered the crowds, you wouldn't even have known what had happened. 
And even if you were there, chances are you wouldn't have had a clue as what they were protesting, or celebrating.

But the parade into Jerusalem turned into one of the most significant events in the lives of the first century Christians. 
In Jesus Christ, Superstar, the crowd sings a telling line:
"Christ, you know I love you.  Did you see I waved?"

Know, that even then, the waving of palm branches is not exactly prescribed behavior. 
They even  took the clothes off their backs, laid them on the donkey,
and even spread them on the road for the donkey to walk on! 

There was no parade manual providing direction for that – 
no required rehearsals for the participants. 
Yet, there was no hesitation about giving up their garments,
no wondering,
no debate as to whether there might be a cheaper, more dignified way to show love and respect. 
They just did it. 
"Christ, you know I love you.  Did you see I waved?"

Now, I have a hunch that you and I most probably would have reacted on that day pretty much like the Presbyterians we are. 
If we were there,
and if we knew what was going on,
we would have been on the sidelines watching the parade, wouldn’t  we? – 
perhaps even thinking condescending thoughts about those that were getting carried away.
"Christ, you know I love you.  Did you see I waved?"

Each year, we hear this story. 
And each year it is harder for us to really relate to it.  
But the message for us today is clear:  "Lighten up!"  
Like those who participated in the parade, lighten up . . . .
lighten up . . . . to love and laughter! 
Be open and flexible enough to meet any glory that happens to come our way – 
any passing parade –  wherever, whenever. 
Bend with it.  Bend to it. 

You know, it seems that we tend to stay underwhelmed because we refuse to be overwhelmed by the incredible good news of the gospel. 
Too many of us live by the depressing dictum:
"Expect the worse, and you'll never be disappointed."

But, friends, that is most unChristian. 

Sins of inertia are far harder to overcome than any mistakes of passion. 

Seize the moment,
even if it makes us late – 
or truant – for something else.

When Zacchaeus of Jericho heard that Jesus was coming to town, he shut down his tax office and climbed a tree, and that day changed his whole life. 
"Christ, you know I loved you.  Did you see I waved?"

Remember that Martha was so intent on keeping the meal on schedule that she missed an unrepeatable opportunity to enjoy the company of Jesus.

Stop apologizing for spontaneous celebrations. 
We say, "Sorry, I was beside myself,"
or "I just got carried away."

Some of you may remember the philosopher’s (Soren Kierkegaard's)  story of the geese sequestered in a yard. 
Every seventh day these geese paraded to a corner of the yard, and their most eloquent orator got up on the fence and spoke of the wonders of geese.  
He told of the exploits of their forefathers who dared to mount up on wings and fly all over the sky. 
He spoke of the mercy of the creator who had given geese wings – and the instinct to fly. 

This deeply impressed the geese, who nodded their heads solemnly. 

All this they did. 
Every week they would gather and hear this story over and over and over again.

One thing they did not do, though: 
they did not fly.

They did not fly for the corn was good,
and the barnyard was safe and secure.

However brief and passing it was, Palm Sunday provided people with a chance to fly. 
"Christ, you know I love you.  Did you see I waved?"

There is a story about a boy who wanted very much to go to the circus. 
However, the circus was only to be in town one day, Sunday, and his mother, who always insisted on a proper observance of the Lord's day, was reluctant to let him go.  
Finally, she gave in to his pleadings and the boy was permitted to see the circus, this one time!

After the show was over the boy returned home, and his mother asked what he thought of the show.
With visions of daring young men on the flying trapeze, and elephants, and clowns still in his head, the boy replied, "Mama, if you ever get to go to the circus, just once, you'll never want to go to church again!..."
     
After telling this story, a commentator writes:
"In fact, the circus analogy is not altogether out of place with regard to the church. 
True worship is a grand celebration,
properly accompanied by excitement and prospects of abiding joy...
true religion is not unlike the circus. 
It offers mystery, miracle, risk, and a glow that lingers through the years."

In a poem about Palm Sunday, Ann Weems
suggests:
  "When they ask what happened here,
   We'll simply say
   Christ came by and we learned his dance..."
 And then, turning as if to speak to each of us, she
asks:
   Are you a dancer who's never danced?
   Are you a singer who's never sung?
   Are you a laugher who holds it in?
   Are you a weeper who's afraid to cry?
   Are you someone who cares, but is afraid to love?
   Do you have an alleluia deep inside you growing
   rusty?
One writer said, "if we left it to the Spirit,
there would be nothing in the church but Jesus and
dancing. 

That's right. 
If we left it to the spirit,
there would be only the Way and the celebrating.  
The Love and the alleluias. 
The Living and the joy. 
The Gift and the thank you. 
The Song and the singing. 
The Dance and the dancing. 
The Good News and the shouting. 
But do we believe it?"

"Christ, you know I love you.  Did you see I waved?"   
(Maybe there's more.)

The Christ we remember riding into Jerusalem
that Palm Sunday long ago,
the Christ we experience and know to be with us today in thick and in thin,
the Christ we call Lord,
is the Lord of the Dance,
the Lord of all that is our life.

To you and to me, on this Palm Sunday, the message is:
to Lighten up. 
Dance your dance. 
Sing your song. 
Laugh out loud. 
For the Lord is coming. 
The Lord is here! 
Hosanna! 
Alleluia! 
 
Amen.

The congregation of Christ Presbyterian Church in Drexel Hill, Pennsylvania, USA, experienced this sermon during a worship service on Palm Sunday, March 24, 2013.