A Man Gives His Donkey
Sermon
The Gifts Of Lent
Sermons And Children's Sermons
Come in! Come in! Do come in! Far be it from me that I should deny a visitor the hospitality of my little home. After all, it isn't really my home. I'm just a tenant. It belongs to the Lord, as does everything else you see around here, although I admit it isn't much. If I have an extra mat for a bed, or loaf of bread, or skin of wine, and you have need of it, consider it a gift from God to you.
Now why is it you dropped by? Oh, yes! You want me to tell you about the time I let that stranger from Galilee use my donkey. I guess that's when I first got the idea that everything I owned was really the Lord's.
It was a morning in early spring, the week of Passover. Those were troubled times. There was so much anger. The Sadducees were angry. The Romans were angry. The Pharisees were angry.
I really caught it once from one of those angry Pharisees. It was a Sabbath day. I knew I wasn't supposed to, but I did it anyway. Wouldn't you have? There was a poor old widow in Bethany, just down the road. She had no food in the house, no relatives, and she was too weak to take care of herself. So I loaded an extra sack of barley I had onto my donkey and took it to her.
Boy, did I get a scolding from that Pharisee neighbor of mine. "You're breaking the Sabbath!" he shouted at me. "Haul your barley on some other day." But the woman was hungry! I was supposed to just sit at home and let her starve? I just couldn't see it. I don't think Jesus would see it that way either.
The Sadducees weren't much better than the Pharisees. The Sadducees were in cahoots with the Romans. They were afraid of anything that would rock the political boat. The only thing that seemed important to them was their temple and their jobs.
They were the priests, but it seemed they could care less about what would happen to me when I died, and I'm not as young as I used to be. "When we die, we're dead, and that's it," one of them growled at me. That's actually what they taught. And they were our priests! Some comfort!
But Jesus was different. He offered us eternal life and forgiveness of sins. Through his life and words, he showed us his heavenly Father who loves us. I'd never really met Jesus. But I'd heard about him. Every now and then when a traveler from Galilee would stop by the house, we'd hear the news, strange and wonderful news.
One man said that Jesus had fed him and 5,000 other people with just five loaves of bread and two fish, and there was plenty left over! I think he might have been hinting that the piece of bread and cup of water I gave him wasn't really very much. He was right. I could have done better.
Then the news got closer to home. In Jericho, just a day's walk from here, Jesus gave a blind man his sight back. The blind man got Jesus' attention by calling him the "Son of David" and Jesus didn't correct him! When I heard that, I started doing some serious wondering.
Just down the road, in Bethany, Jesus raised my good friend Lazarus from the dead. I ought to know -- I went to the home where he lived with his sisters, Martha and Mary, to pay my respects, and I saw his dead body with my own eyes. Lazarus had been dead for four days when Jesus raised him! It's true! Later, Lazarus even stopped by here. He was the one who invited me to join the crowd going with Jesus to Jerusalem.
Even the Pharisees and Sadducees knew it was true. Some of them were there when it happened. But all they cared about were their jobs and their temple. A man is raised from the dead, and the only thing they think about is that the Romans might get upset!
You can see now why it didn't take much convincing for me to loan my donkeys to Jesus when his two disciples showed up on my doorstep and said he needed them. What a day that was!
The disciples had been running. Jesus was back on the road toward Bethany and needed a donkey for his trip to Jerusalem. I'd been saving that young colt as an offering to the Lord. In the synagogue school, the rabbi had taught us that the first born of man or animal that opens the womb belongs to God. If you wanted to keep it, you had to redeem it with a special offering.
Well, I planned to give it to the Lord just as the Law said. I just hadn't gotten around to it. Then the disciples showed up and said, "The Lord has need of it." Is that a sign from God or what? A couple of neighbors warned me not to. "That's much too good an animal just to give away. You could sell it for a good price!" I admit it was tempting.
The other neighbor said, "I wouldn't do that if I were you. The Pharisees and priests don't like Jesus. I've heard there's a plot afoot to have him killed. You give him that donkey and you're in trouble!"
I was confused. They had good arguments. But here were these two disciples waiting. I'd heard the stories, and I knew what Jesus had done for Lazarus, so I made my decision. The donkey and its mother were for Jesus. If I got into trouble, so be it. In my mind nobody but the Lord could heal a blind man and raise my friend Lazarus. If Jesus needed my donkey, it was his.
About an hour later the crowd came by. What a noisy, happy bunch! They were having a wonderful time, so much laughing and singing. Here in Bethphage, we're just a short walk from Jerusalem, so I joined them. Most of the people in the crowd were pilgrims from all over the empire. They were all here to celebrate the Passover and the Feast of Tabernacles.
My, how we would sing during those festivals! It was like a great reunion. Friends and relatives from all over the world would return to Jerusalem. The city folks would sing one verse of a Psalm. The visitors would sing the next.
That's what we were doing that Sunday with Psalm 118. The people from the city would sing the verses. The pilgrims would sing the responses. It was called the Hallel. "Hosanna," one group would sing. Then the other would reply, "Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord."
We always sang that Psalm during Passover week. But on that particular Sunday, our leaders really got angry. They knew more about what was going on than we did. They understood the Psalm to be a song of praise and welcome to the Messiah. And here was Jesus riding into Jerusalem on a donkey, being greeted like a king, just as the prophet Zechariah had said would happen. There we all were, waving palm branches, throwing down our robes to make a carpet for Jesus, just as we'd do for royalty.
I wasn't a theologian. Most of the people weren't either. We didn't know at the time the significance of what we were doing. But our leaders did. And it angered them. More than that, it terrified them.
Now I understand what they already knew. We were welcoming Jesus as the Messiah, the Son of David, the Lord who saves. "Hosanna," we sang. "Save, now, Lord!" That's what Hosanna meant. It was far more than just the singing of a well-loved old Psalm. We were singing a prayer to Jesus, and most of us didn't even know it. But he heard our prayer, and he did save us. We sang, "Save, now, Lord!" and that's just what he did, that very week, but not in a way any of us had expected.
I'm not sure just what we wanted Jesus to do when he entered the city. Perhaps we thought he would lead that great Palm Sunday procession all the way to the Fortress Antonia. Perhaps we naively assumed the strong gates would miraculously open, and all the terrified Roman soldiers in Jerusalem would run away like scared rabbits before the Son of David who had come to claim his throne.
Then, with the city secured forever from the hated invader, the heir to David's throne would march in triumph with his army of children and beggars and old women to the palace of Herod. There he would be anointed king to the joyful acclamation of a grateful nation.
How foolish we were. Jesus did none of those things. Instead, he ignored fortress and palace alike and entered the temple. Saying nothing, doing nothing, he simply looked around. He observed the worshipers chanting their prayers, the priests hurrying to their chambers to vest for the next sacrifice, the money lenders and merchants haggling over exchange rates and prices. There was not a hint of what he intended to do in that long penetrating gaze.
He looked, and then he left. "I came. I saw. I conquered," Caesar said. But the Son of David came, saw, and left. How disappointed we were. How confused. Perhaps he wasn't the Messiah, we thought. From that moment, the great swell of support for Jesus began to melt away.
But on Monday it was a completely different story. I had gone to the temple to discharge a vow, and Jesus was there again. That's when I saw a side of him I hadn't known about, a side of Jesus that literally put the fear of God into me. I saw him angry! I saw a holiness and wrath about him that reminded me of Moses smashing the tablets of the Ten Commandments.
Jesus was there overturning the tables of the money changers, smashing cages holding birds, loosing the ropes that tied the sacrificial sheep and cattle. With a homemade whip he lashed out at the merchants and shouted, "It is written, 'My house will be called a house of prayer for all people,' but you have made it a den of robbers."
What the merchants were doing had disturbed the rest of us deeply, but no one before ever had the courage to do anything about it. Now, Jesus, just one man, took a whip and cleaned out that whole area, scattering birds and coins and sending merchants and customers running.
When it was over, Jesus left the temple and went back to Bethany to stay with his friends. I left too, my entire body trembling, as I made my way back to Bethphage and my little house by the road.
What a week that was, a week in which I experienced every emotional extreme: hope, disappointment, fear, grief, ecstatic joy. It was a week that changed my life.
I had sung with all the others, "Save, now, Lord," and he answered me. The answer I expected was victory over Rome. Instead, Jesus' victory over sin at the cross was the answer. His victory over death at the empty tomb was the answer. "Hosanna to the Son of David" who won freedom from the tyranny of sin, not just for me and a few people in my tiny country, but for you, and everyone!
What about the donkeys? Oh, I still have them. We'll go and look at them in a moment. By the way, you look tired. Would you like to borrow one? There's still quite a walk uphill if you're going to the city. A donkey could make that walk a lot easier. Go ahead, take one! After all, they're not mine. They're the Lord's.
Prayer
On this day, Heavenly Father, we come before you as sinners, embarrassed and grieved by our wrongs, especially our selfishness. Look on these ashes, O Lord, not as empty show or mere tradition, but as a sincere expression of our repentance. And then, Lord, turn our hearts and lives back to you that we might live in your forgiveness forever and use all we have in your service. In the name of Jesus, your Son, we pray. Amen.
Ash Wednesday
Matthew 21:1-11
Children's Sermon
Object: one set of car keys
Hi, boys and girls. I'm glad so many of you could be here as we begin the Lenten season. Lent is a special time to think about how much Jesus loves us. It's also a time to think about how we can show our love for Jesus. Do you love Jesus? Good! So do I.
Tonight I brought some keys with me. Can you tell me what kind they are? Yes, they're car keys. I really need my car. I use it for visiting people in the hospital, for going to the store, for bringing people to church, as well as for all the things your parents use their car.
Do you think I would ever loan my car keys to someone else so that he could use my car?
Yes, I would, but it depends on who the person is. If the person really needs to borrow my car and I trust him, I would let him use it. If the person were a stranger or someone I didn't trust, I wouldn't let him use it.
What did people use in Bible days for a car? That's right. Some people used camels. Others used horses. In the Bible lesson we read about a man who used donkeys. Donkeys carried loads, people rode on them, and they pulled carts.
Imagine that you own a donkey. Two of Jesus' disciples come to your house and ask to borrow it because Jesus needs it. Would you let Jesus use your donkey? I'm glad you would let Jesus use it. Why would you do that? (Several answers are possible.)
I think the man in the Bible story let Jesus' disciples take the donkeys because he had heard about the kind things Jesus had done for people. He believed Jesus was God's Son, our Savior. And besides, since everything the man owned came from God and should be used for God, he let the disciples take the donkeys to Jesus.
What has God given you that you can use for him? (Wait for replies.) Let's thank God for all he gives us and ask him to help us use his gifts for him.
Prayer
Thank you, God, for everything you give us: our family, our clothes and food, our toys, our pets, our bikes. You have done so much for us, we want to do things for you. Show us how we can use the things you have blessed us with to help others. In Jesus' name. Amen.
Now why is it you dropped by? Oh, yes! You want me to tell you about the time I let that stranger from Galilee use my donkey. I guess that's when I first got the idea that everything I owned was really the Lord's.
It was a morning in early spring, the week of Passover. Those were troubled times. There was so much anger. The Sadducees were angry. The Romans were angry. The Pharisees were angry.
I really caught it once from one of those angry Pharisees. It was a Sabbath day. I knew I wasn't supposed to, but I did it anyway. Wouldn't you have? There was a poor old widow in Bethany, just down the road. She had no food in the house, no relatives, and she was too weak to take care of herself. So I loaded an extra sack of barley I had onto my donkey and took it to her.
Boy, did I get a scolding from that Pharisee neighbor of mine. "You're breaking the Sabbath!" he shouted at me. "Haul your barley on some other day." But the woman was hungry! I was supposed to just sit at home and let her starve? I just couldn't see it. I don't think Jesus would see it that way either.
The Sadducees weren't much better than the Pharisees. The Sadducees were in cahoots with the Romans. They were afraid of anything that would rock the political boat. The only thing that seemed important to them was their temple and their jobs.
They were the priests, but it seemed they could care less about what would happen to me when I died, and I'm not as young as I used to be. "When we die, we're dead, and that's it," one of them growled at me. That's actually what they taught. And they were our priests! Some comfort!
But Jesus was different. He offered us eternal life and forgiveness of sins. Through his life and words, he showed us his heavenly Father who loves us. I'd never really met Jesus. But I'd heard about him. Every now and then when a traveler from Galilee would stop by the house, we'd hear the news, strange and wonderful news.
One man said that Jesus had fed him and 5,000 other people with just five loaves of bread and two fish, and there was plenty left over! I think he might have been hinting that the piece of bread and cup of water I gave him wasn't really very much. He was right. I could have done better.
Then the news got closer to home. In Jericho, just a day's walk from here, Jesus gave a blind man his sight back. The blind man got Jesus' attention by calling him the "Son of David" and Jesus didn't correct him! When I heard that, I started doing some serious wondering.
Just down the road, in Bethany, Jesus raised my good friend Lazarus from the dead. I ought to know -- I went to the home where he lived with his sisters, Martha and Mary, to pay my respects, and I saw his dead body with my own eyes. Lazarus had been dead for four days when Jesus raised him! It's true! Later, Lazarus even stopped by here. He was the one who invited me to join the crowd going with Jesus to Jerusalem.
Even the Pharisees and Sadducees knew it was true. Some of them were there when it happened. But all they cared about were their jobs and their temple. A man is raised from the dead, and the only thing they think about is that the Romans might get upset!
You can see now why it didn't take much convincing for me to loan my donkeys to Jesus when his two disciples showed up on my doorstep and said he needed them. What a day that was!
The disciples had been running. Jesus was back on the road toward Bethany and needed a donkey for his trip to Jerusalem. I'd been saving that young colt as an offering to the Lord. In the synagogue school, the rabbi had taught us that the first born of man or animal that opens the womb belongs to God. If you wanted to keep it, you had to redeem it with a special offering.
Well, I planned to give it to the Lord just as the Law said. I just hadn't gotten around to it. Then the disciples showed up and said, "The Lord has need of it." Is that a sign from God or what? A couple of neighbors warned me not to. "That's much too good an animal just to give away. You could sell it for a good price!" I admit it was tempting.
The other neighbor said, "I wouldn't do that if I were you. The Pharisees and priests don't like Jesus. I've heard there's a plot afoot to have him killed. You give him that donkey and you're in trouble!"
I was confused. They had good arguments. But here were these two disciples waiting. I'd heard the stories, and I knew what Jesus had done for Lazarus, so I made my decision. The donkey and its mother were for Jesus. If I got into trouble, so be it. In my mind nobody but the Lord could heal a blind man and raise my friend Lazarus. If Jesus needed my donkey, it was his.
About an hour later the crowd came by. What a noisy, happy bunch! They were having a wonderful time, so much laughing and singing. Here in Bethphage, we're just a short walk from Jerusalem, so I joined them. Most of the people in the crowd were pilgrims from all over the empire. They were all here to celebrate the Passover and the Feast of Tabernacles.
My, how we would sing during those festivals! It was like a great reunion. Friends and relatives from all over the world would return to Jerusalem. The city folks would sing one verse of a Psalm. The visitors would sing the next.
That's what we were doing that Sunday with Psalm 118. The people from the city would sing the verses. The pilgrims would sing the responses. It was called the Hallel. "Hosanna," one group would sing. Then the other would reply, "Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord."
We always sang that Psalm during Passover week. But on that particular Sunday, our leaders really got angry. They knew more about what was going on than we did. They understood the Psalm to be a song of praise and welcome to the Messiah. And here was Jesus riding into Jerusalem on a donkey, being greeted like a king, just as the prophet Zechariah had said would happen. There we all were, waving palm branches, throwing down our robes to make a carpet for Jesus, just as we'd do for royalty.
I wasn't a theologian. Most of the people weren't either. We didn't know at the time the significance of what we were doing. But our leaders did. And it angered them. More than that, it terrified them.
Now I understand what they already knew. We were welcoming Jesus as the Messiah, the Son of David, the Lord who saves. "Hosanna," we sang. "Save, now, Lord!" That's what Hosanna meant. It was far more than just the singing of a well-loved old Psalm. We were singing a prayer to Jesus, and most of us didn't even know it. But he heard our prayer, and he did save us. We sang, "Save, now, Lord!" and that's just what he did, that very week, but not in a way any of us had expected.
I'm not sure just what we wanted Jesus to do when he entered the city. Perhaps we thought he would lead that great Palm Sunday procession all the way to the Fortress Antonia. Perhaps we naively assumed the strong gates would miraculously open, and all the terrified Roman soldiers in Jerusalem would run away like scared rabbits before the Son of David who had come to claim his throne.
Then, with the city secured forever from the hated invader, the heir to David's throne would march in triumph with his army of children and beggars and old women to the palace of Herod. There he would be anointed king to the joyful acclamation of a grateful nation.
How foolish we were. Jesus did none of those things. Instead, he ignored fortress and palace alike and entered the temple. Saying nothing, doing nothing, he simply looked around. He observed the worshipers chanting their prayers, the priests hurrying to their chambers to vest for the next sacrifice, the money lenders and merchants haggling over exchange rates and prices. There was not a hint of what he intended to do in that long penetrating gaze.
He looked, and then he left. "I came. I saw. I conquered," Caesar said. But the Son of David came, saw, and left. How disappointed we were. How confused. Perhaps he wasn't the Messiah, we thought. From that moment, the great swell of support for Jesus began to melt away.
But on Monday it was a completely different story. I had gone to the temple to discharge a vow, and Jesus was there again. That's when I saw a side of him I hadn't known about, a side of Jesus that literally put the fear of God into me. I saw him angry! I saw a holiness and wrath about him that reminded me of Moses smashing the tablets of the Ten Commandments.
Jesus was there overturning the tables of the money changers, smashing cages holding birds, loosing the ropes that tied the sacrificial sheep and cattle. With a homemade whip he lashed out at the merchants and shouted, "It is written, 'My house will be called a house of prayer for all people,' but you have made it a den of robbers."
What the merchants were doing had disturbed the rest of us deeply, but no one before ever had the courage to do anything about it. Now, Jesus, just one man, took a whip and cleaned out that whole area, scattering birds and coins and sending merchants and customers running.
When it was over, Jesus left the temple and went back to Bethany to stay with his friends. I left too, my entire body trembling, as I made my way back to Bethphage and my little house by the road.
What a week that was, a week in which I experienced every emotional extreme: hope, disappointment, fear, grief, ecstatic joy. It was a week that changed my life.
I had sung with all the others, "Save, now, Lord," and he answered me. The answer I expected was victory over Rome. Instead, Jesus' victory over sin at the cross was the answer. His victory over death at the empty tomb was the answer. "Hosanna to the Son of David" who won freedom from the tyranny of sin, not just for me and a few people in my tiny country, but for you, and everyone!
What about the donkeys? Oh, I still have them. We'll go and look at them in a moment. By the way, you look tired. Would you like to borrow one? There's still quite a walk uphill if you're going to the city. A donkey could make that walk a lot easier. Go ahead, take one! After all, they're not mine. They're the Lord's.
Prayer
On this day, Heavenly Father, we come before you as sinners, embarrassed and grieved by our wrongs, especially our selfishness. Look on these ashes, O Lord, not as empty show or mere tradition, but as a sincere expression of our repentance. And then, Lord, turn our hearts and lives back to you that we might live in your forgiveness forever and use all we have in your service. In the name of Jesus, your Son, we pray. Amen.
Ash Wednesday
Matthew 21:1-11
Children's Sermon
Object: one set of car keys
Hi, boys and girls. I'm glad so many of you could be here as we begin the Lenten season. Lent is a special time to think about how much Jesus loves us. It's also a time to think about how we can show our love for Jesus. Do you love Jesus? Good! So do I.
Tonight I brought some keys with me. Can you tell me what kind they are? Yes, they're car keys. I really need my car. I use it for visiting people in the hospital, for going to the store, for bringing people to church, as well as for all the things your parents use their car.
Do you think I would ever loan my car keys to someone else so that he could use my car?
Yes, I would, but it depends on who the person is. If the person really needs to borrow my car and I trust him, I would let him use it. If the person were a stranger or someone I didn't trust, I wouldn't let him use it.
What did people use in Bible days for a car? That's right. Some people used camels. Others used horses. In the Bible lesson we read about a man who used donkeys. Donkeys carried loads, people rode on them, and they pulled carts.
Imagine that you own a donkey. Two of Jesus' disciples come to your house and ask to borrow it because Jesus needs it. Would you let Jesus use your donkey? I'm glad you would let Jesus use it. Why would you do that? (Several answers are possible.)
I think the man in the Bible story let Jesus' disciples take the donkeys because he had heard about the kind things Jesus had done for people. He believed Jesus was God's Son, our Savior. And besides, since everything the man owned came from God and should be used for God, he let the disciples take the donkeys to Jesus.
What has God given you that you can use for him? (Wait for replies.) Let's thank God for all he gives us and ask him to help us use his gifts for him.
Prayer
Thank you, God, for everything you give us: our family, our clothes and food, our toys, our pets, our bikes. You have done so much for us, we want to do things for you. Show us how we can use the things you have blessed us with to help others. In Jesus' name. Amen.
