Palm/Passion Sunday C: The Unexpected God

Luke 22:14-23:56

Dear Partner in Preaching,

Sometimes when you read a familiar passage, you wonder just what you’ll preach on this time, and sometimes – and oh, how nice it is when this happens! – sometimes something entirely new jumps out at you. That’s what happened to me this week at the prompting of one of the readers of this column. Earlier this week, one of you wrote to me and observed that in Luke’s version of the Passion, Peter denies Jesus three times and Pilate proclaims his innocence three times. The preacher writing asked if this was significant. And, to tell you the truth, I’d never noticed that before. Peter’s triple denial, yes; Pilate’s triple pronouncement of innocence, no.

While it’s always hard to say for sure which details are intentional, I tend to err on the side of assuming that the writers of our Gospels are artists, usually quite intention with details, especially when they differ from their compatriots’ accounts.

What I find interesting about this juxtaposition of triplets is that they are, when you stop to think about it, exactly contrary to what our expectations would be. That is, Peter is the one who should be shouting Jesus’ innocence and Pilate the one denying him rights or condemning him as a threat to the empire. But that’s not what happens.

And perhaps the very “unexpectedness” of the behavior of these two characters is a key not simply to the larger Passion of our Lord but also to the whole of Luke’s Gospel. After all, we should not expect a conniving prodigal to be received back into the household without genuine repentance. We should not expect a shepherd to leave ninety-nine sheep in the wilderness and at risk to pursue one straggler. We should not expect that Jesus would lift up a chief tax collector as a model of righteousness. (These are among several “minority” interpretations of familiar stories in Luke that I happen to believe are accurate.) And we should definitely not expect the Lord of glory and Savior of the world to suffer and die in such an undignified, horrible way.

Which maybe, just maybe means that the God Jesus reveals is, well, unexpected. As in totally not what we imagine possible. No wonder the disciples don’t believe the testimony of the women at the empty tomb. It’s just beyond what they can imagine, believe, or ever – in a million years – expected.

Perhaps that’s why we turn the cross into an instrument of divine justice and punishment rather than seeing it as an expression of the deepest kind of sacrificial love. I mean, we’d expect a holy, just, and powerful God to demand punishment for sin. So Jesus standing in for us and taking our punishment makes a certain sense. It’s what we expect. But perhaps our imagination has been so shaped by the systems of power of the world that we can only imagine God as a mighty king offended by the sin of his subjects.

Yet if we take the countless stories Luke shares about Jesus and, more importantly, Jesus’ words about God and God’s kingdom seriously, then we might be grow more accustomed to God doing the unexpected. God just forgiving us out of love rather than demanding satisfaction first. God acting more like a desperate parent than an angry monarch. God reaching out again and again in love and mercy rather than exacting retribution.

That’s the God we discover in Luke’s – and, I’d argue, the whole of the New Testament’s – witness to Christ and his cross. And that’s the God we’re called to preach, this Palm/Passion Sunday, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and most especially on Easter Sunday.

I know that’s a lot of preaching, Dear Partner. But perhaps this year we can see it less as multiple obligations to prepare sermons and instead see the week ahead as providing multiple opportunities to take a crack at trying to describe the nearly indescribable and totally unexpected God revealed in and through Jesus. I mean, no one can get the wondrous love and unexpected mercy of God across in a single sermon, and so this week we get several chances!

Blessings on your preaching, on your worship, and on your encounter with and proclamation of the Unexpected God. Thank you, as always, for what you do and, even more, for who you are: a faithful proclaimer of God’s unexpected, redemptive, and continually life-giving mercy and love.

Yours in Christ,
David

PS: This is a crazy-long passage. In consideration of your readers, and to focus your sermon, by all means take selections from the larger passion… or read just the triumphal entry and invite folks to come to hear the rest later in the week! 🙂