Luke 19:28–40

²⁸And when he had said these things, he went on ahead, going up to Jerusalem.

²⁹When he drew near to Bethphage and Bethany, at the mount that is called Olivet, he sent two of the disciples,

³⁰saying, "Go into the village in front of you, where on entering you will find a colt tied, on which no one has ever yet sat. Untie it and bring it here.

³¹If anyone asks you, 'Why are you untying it?' you shall say this: 'The Lord has need of it.'"

³²So those who were sent went away and found it just as he had told them.

³³And as they were untying the colt, its owners said to them, "Why are you untying the colt?"

³⁴And they said, "The Lord has need of it."

³⁵And they brought it to Jesus, and throwing their cloaks on the colt, they set Jesus on it.

³⁶And as he rode along, they spread their cloaks on the road.

³⁷As he was drawing near- already on the way down the Mount of Olives- the whole multitude of his disciples began to rejoice and praise God with a loud voice for all the mighty works that they had seen,

³⁸saying, "Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!"

³⁹And some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to him, "Teacher, rebuke your disciples."

⁴⁰He answered, "I tell you, if these were silent, the very stones would cry out."

Have you ever felt like you're in the wrong place at the wrong time? or like you know where you are but can't figure out how you got there? So it seems today. Everything is out of whack.

It's November, and it's Advent, the preparation for Christmas. We expect to be transported to Bethlehem, to a manger, surrounded by animals. Instead, our Gospel takes us to Jerusalem with Jesus riding on a donkey.

I know it's only November, but Christmas tree are already going up—decorations, lights, and all. Santa Claus appeared at the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade, and Christmas lights have popped up all over our neighborhood. In the next few weeks we will have Christmas parties at work, and then, another and another. And wonder of wonders, I've already purchased a couple of Christmas gifts. For the most part, I'm already in the Christmas spirit. And I'm ready to sing a carol or two.

Strangely enough, though, the traditional Gospel for the First Sunday in Advent is the same as that of Palm Sunday—Jesus' triumphal entry into Jerusalem. It seems, in a way, wrong. Out of place. Say what you will about Christ's coming at the end of time, but Advent's all about preparing our hearts for the coming of the Christ Child. Children everywhere are already rehearsing for Christmas programs, getting ready to reenact the story of Mary, with child, riding on a donkey into Bethlehem. And instead, we're saddled with a story about Jesus riding on a donkey into Jerusalem. In Advent, we should be moving toward a celebration of our Lord's birth in Bethlehem, and instead we hear a story about our Lord moving toward his death in Jerusalem. We should all be going to the theater to see the latest Christmas movie, and instead we're treated to what looks like the prequel to Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ.

But maybe there's something we can learn—something that, like Mary, we can take with us and ponder in our hearts. Jesus riding into Jerusalem on a donkey. "Ride on, ride on in majesty! In lowly pomp ride on to die" (LSB 441:2). For this reason, our Lord came from heaven. For this reason, the Son of God became the Son of Mary. The story that we hear today is the story that gives Christmas its meaning and lasting value. The Peace and Joy of Bethlehem's Cradle Is Won for Us at Jerusalem's Cross.

I.

Indeed, Christmas seems, for so many, to be a holiday about nothing. Or else, about the things of this world. Many, I think, have completely lost their bearings. I remember as a kid going to a friend's house for Christmas. Though all baptized, the family had drifted away from the Church. I remember watching as my friend unwrapped present after present. Each child was given a television set, in those days big stuff—even as plasma television sets are all the rage now. And as I watched them opening the presents, I was, at first, more than a little jealous. But as the day wore on, something didn't seem right. Something was missing. Or more precisely, someone was missing. For all the gifts and celebration, there was nothing to it. There was no Christ and no Mass. No mention of our Lord's birth and no celebration of his birth in the church service. It was hollow. I was left feeling empty inside.

In our society, Christmas has become a largely secular, worldly affair. We celebrate Christmas, and we even fight for the right to say "Merry Christmas" at places like Wal-Mart, but we rarely talk about why Christmas is merry. The absence of Christ has left for many a big hole, an emptiness that needs to be filled. And so many folks try to fill the void with manmade traditions, songs, and stories. Rather than tell the story of Christ, the world tells countless other stories. Off the top of my head, I can think of Dickens' A Christmas Carol, "The Little Match Girl," How the Grinch Stole Christmas!, The Year Without a Santa Claus, The Nutcracker, "The Night Before Christmas," "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer," and "Frosty the Snowman," not to mention It's a Wonderful Life and A Miracle on 34th Street. The world has its own hymnal as well, with Christmas hymns ranging from Elvis's "Blue Christmas" to Bing's "White Christmas." Nat King Cole sings about chestnuts roasting in "The Christmas Song," and Gene Autry still can be heard singing of the advent of Santa Claus, coming down Santa Claus Lane. I like a lot of those stories, enjoy some of those songs. But if that's all there is, we don't have much to celebrate. Just not a lot there. No wonder Christmas has a tendency to fall flat.

But if we're to be honest, even for us Christians, Christmas often falls flat. Perhaps we should blame the angels for raising our expectations. "It came upon the midnight clear, That glorious song of old, From angels bending near the earth To touch their harps of gold: 'Peace on the earth, goodwill to all' " (LSB 366:1). A beautiful song and a beautiful sentiment. But whatever did the angels mean by singing, "Peace on the earth"?

I don't know about you, but I don't see much peace on earth, nor, for that matter, good will to men. So many folks become cynical. One of my favorite commercials was that old one for Coca-Cola in which young people joined in chorus. The hippies of the sixties really thought that with a good attitude and a few folk songs peace was just around the corner. Silly, but we still pray for peace. And for two thousand years, we've had nothing but wars and rumors of wars. Again and again, the angels said, "Don't be afraid." Yet we live in what seems to be an age of anxiety; a low-level fear lurks just below the surface. Some of us have relatives serving in Iraq or Afghanistan. Some fret over global warming; others worry that the economy isn't stable. What if Iran or North Korea gets nuclear weapons? And God forbid, actually use them? What if someone detonates a dirty bomb or poisons the water supply? A while back, Stephen Hawking said that the human race should already be planning for life on another planet in preparation for the time when our own planet will become uninhabitable. Peace on earth? I don't think so. Doom seems, if not imminent, inevitable.

And so at Christmas, when peace on earth seems unattainable on a large, global scale, we attempt it on a smaller scale, at home with family and friends. Many folks, even Christian folks, will say that Christmas at its heart is about friends and family. When I used to ask my mother what she wanted for Christmas, she would say, "A happy family." Now, when my kids ask my wife what she wants, lo and behold, she says the same thing, "A happy family." And this side of heaven, the family is about the best gift there is. But families, too, can be turned into idols. Indeed, many Christians don't even go to church on Christmas because they want to be with their families.

And even at home, there is not always peace. Christmas is great, but the bills aren't so wonderful. Throw in anxieties over work issues, your children's struggles at school, ailing parents, a chronic medical condition, a dispute with the in-laws, the loss of a loved one, or a broken relationship, and there's a lot of strife and sadness. Some of this sadness is because we live in a fallen world, and truth be told, some of this sadness is of our own making—bad choices we've made, people we've hurt, relationships we've damaged. Divorce is no longer the exception. And more children grow up in one-parent homes than with a mom and dad. Our families are a mess, and more often than not, we're part of the problem.

Where, then, is peace to be found? Nowhere else than in the Christ Child. Not in some Precious Moments Christ Child but in the child who was born to die. A real-world Savior for a world with real problems. The babe of Bethlehem who would set his sights on Jerusalem. The One whose birth was lit by a star and whose death would be met with darkness.

And so at our Lord's birth, the angels sang, "Peace on the earth, goodwill to all." But there is still another song to sing, and we sing it as Jesus is riding on a donkey into Jerusalem: "Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!" (Lk 19:38).

Peace in heaven? What do we mean by that? There's always peace in heaven. Heaven is the place where angels ride upon the clouds, strumming along on their harps. Heaven is where we escape the evils of this world.

Well, there's more to it. Peace in heaven is not just a description; it's good news. There's peace in heaven because God is at peace with us.

We have to ask, "How could God be at peace with us? How could he be at peace with a world that is constantly at war? How could he be at peace with a world that disregards him, ignores him, and takes his blessings for granted? How could he be at peace with a world that blatantly disregards his will? How could he be at peace with a world that has taken the celebration of the birth of his Son and turned it into just another time to eat, drink, and be merry? How could he be at peace with me, a sinner?"

If we are to recover Christmas, we must recover Advent. Advent is a season of preparation—not simply of our homes, meals, and presents, but a time of preparation for our hearts. A time of assessment and acknowledgment and a time to recognize why our Lord came in the first place. A time to recognize why that infant child, born to be King, would one day receive a crown of thorns. A time for repentance.

"Hark! A thrilling voice is sounding! 'Christ is near,' we hear it say. 'Cast away the works of darkness, All you children of the day!' " (LSB 345:1).

"Cast away the works of darkness." Look at your lives, and turn once more away from sin. Think about your lives. Your hopes. Your dreams. What are you looking forward to? What are you planning for? Are your hearts set merely on the things of this world? on new cars and new homes? on toys and vacations? on a stable financial future? What do you want out of life? What are your goals? Are they the goals that God would have for you? Are you thinking of the life to come, or are you setting your sights only on the things of this world? Are you putting your money in things to please yourself, or are you giving it to the Church, and thereby investing in eternity?

The season of Advent is one of assessment. It's a time to remember that the things of this world are indeed already passing away, a time to set our hearts, once more, upon things above. A time to look at the child who came to die, a time to crucify our sinful passions.

And so we sing, "Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord." And we recognize that he comes to die for our sins. And so we sing, "Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!" (Mt 21:9). We remember that we have been baptized into the name of the Lord. Returning to our Baptism, we renounce, once more, the devil, all his works, and all his sinful ways. We don't simply cry out against the evils of this world, but we repent of the evils of our own heart. We recognize the troubles we have caused, the damage we have done, the friends we have hurt, and the responsibilities we have not met.

Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord, and we who also bear his name now also take up our crosses and follow him.

Yes, Advent is a time for repentance, a time of sadness over sin. But it is also a time of hope. For if we are sinners, we have a Savior. And if the end is near, so also, in Christ, is there a new beginning. If we have made a mess with our lives, Christ has come to make things right. And he will come again.

For the world, Christmas is a big game of pretend—of creating an idyllic world that does not exist, speaking of a peace that does not exist. But for us, Christmas is life itself. Therefore, in this season of Advent, let us prepare our hearts once more for our Lord's coming. Let us cast away the works of darkness and be adorned with every good work and with acts of charity and generosity. Let us forgive as we have been forgiven. And let us embrace the child who came to embrace us. And let us offer up our lives as gifts to the One who came to offer up his life as his gift of salvation for us all.