A FLESH AND BLOOD KING
Sermontelling Luke 19:29-44 (NL 336)
BIBLETELLING
Below is the Narrative Lectionary passage for the coming week. It is followed by Bruce’s notes on the text which aim at a general understanding of the text and some notes on the structures and techniques used by the Biblical storytellers.
As he approached1 Bethphage and Bethany2 at the hill called the Mount of Olives, he sent two of his disciples, saying to them, “Go to the village ahead of you, and as you enter it, you will find a colt tied there, which no one has ever ridden. Untie it and bring it here. If anyone asks you, ‘Why are you untying it?’ say, ‘The Lord needs it.’”
Those who were sent ahead went and found it just as he had told them. As they were untying the colt, its owners asked them, “Why are you untying the colt?”
They replied, “The Lord needs it.”
They brought it to Jesus, threw their cloaks on the colt and put Jesus on it. As he went along, people spread their cloaks on the road.3
When he came near the place where the road goes down the Mount of Olives, the whole crowd of disciples began joyfully to praise God in loud voices for all the miracles they had seen:
“Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord!”4
“Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!”
Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to Jesus, “Teacher, rebuke your disciples!”5
“I tell you,” he replied, “if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out.”6
As he approached Jerusalem and saw the city, he wept7 over it and said, “If you, even you, had only known on this day what would bring you peace—but now it is hidden from your eyes. The days will come upon you when your enemies will build an embankment against you and encircle you and hem you in on every side. They will dash you to the ground, you and the children within your walls. They will not leave one stone on another8, because you did not recognize the time of God’s coming to you.”
Luke 19:29-44
THREE STORIES
The following three stories pair well with the Narrative Lectionary passage for the coming week. They are followed by Danny’s sermontelling footnotes which explore the stories’ theological connection to the passage as well as insights into craft and performance. Our advice is to read the story first before digging into the footnotes.
The Holy One Mourns
After the destruction of the second temple, the Holy One summoned his ministering angels to his throne. He asked his angels, "When a king of flesh and blood loses a dear one and he wishes to mourn, what is customary for him to do?"9
The angels replied, "He hangs sackcloth over his door."
God said, "I will do likewise."
So it was that on the day the second temple fell, darkness covered the land.10 Hence it is written:11
“I clothe the heavens with darkness and make sackcloth its covering.”12
Isa. 50:3
Then the Holy One asked, "What else does a king of flesh and blood do?"
The angels replied, "He extinguishes the lamps."13
God said, "I will do likewise."
So it was that on the day the second temple fell, the heavenly bodies did not give their light. Hence it is written:
The sun and moon will be darkened, and the stars no longer shine.
Joel 3:15
Then the Holy One asked, "What else does a king of flesh and blood do?"
The angels replied, "He overturns his bed."14
God said, "I will do likewise."
So it was that on the day the second temple fell, the Holy One had no place to rest. Hence it is written:
Thrones were set up, and the Ancient of Days took his seat.15
Daniel 7:9
Then the Holy One asked, "What else does a king of flesh and blood do?"
The angels replied, "He walks barefoot."
God said, "I will do likewise."
So it was that on the day the second temple fell, God paced the heavens without sandals. Hence it is written:
His way is in the whirlwind and the storm, and clouds are the dust of his feet.
Nahum 1:3
Then the Holy One asked, "What else does a king of flesh and blood do?"
The angels replied. "He rends his purple robe."
God said, "I will do likewise."
So it was that on the day the second temple fell, Titus was allowed to cut the temple curtain with his sword.16 Hence it is written:
The LORD has done what he planned; he has rent his robe.17
Lamentations 2:17
Then the Holy One asked, "What else does a king of flesh and blood do?"
The angels replied, "He sits in silence."
God said, "I will do likewise."
So it was that on the day the second temple fell, the angels paused their singing and the Holy One spoke not a word. Hence it is written:
Let him sit alone in silence.
Lamentations 3:28
Then the Holy One asked, "What else does a king of flesh and blood do?"
The angels replied, "He weeps."
God said, "I will do likewise."
So it was that on the day the second temple fell, that the Holy One wept with his angels for the fate of his children. Hence it is written:
On that day the Lord GOD of hosts called for weeping and mourning. 18
Isaiah 22:12
~ Lamentations Rabbah 1:1
The Human One Mourns
By the time the second temple was destroyed, the Holy One had no need to be told by his ministering angels how a king of flesh and blood mourns.19 He had already had the experience himself.
At the turn of the age, the King of Glory came down to earth and made his home among us.20 Though he was in very nature God, he did not consider equality with God something to be grasped. Rather, he made himself nothing by taking on the very nature of a servant, being found in human likeness.21 The Holy One became the Human One— a king of flesh and blood.22
At the age of thirty,23 the Human One began announcing the coming of his Kingdom and gathering a faithful band of messengers24 around him. These messengers recognized the Human One as their promised king and vowed to serve him. Together, they marched south to Jerusalem, for there the Human One would claim his crown, receive the praise and honor due him, and take his seat upon the throne.
As the Human One journeyed toward the city, more and more people joined him. Then by the time they were almost at its gates, his crowd of messengers laid their cloaks before him and cried out, “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!”25
The messengers of the Human One were warned to be quiet. Such talk would not be tolerated once they entered the city. But the Human One proclaimed that if his messengers kept silent, the very stones of the buildings and walls would cry out to welcome his arrival.
As the crowd approached the city, a wave of grief hit the Human One. He saw its gates and walls and in that moment he knew he would receive a different welcome inside than he had received on the road.
But it wasn’t just the rejection of his kingship that caused him grief, it was all that it would mean. Jerusalem was a tinderbox. It was a place of deep division and dark undercurrents of violence that were soon to bubble to the surface. If they continued the way they were going, there would be war and destruction. The result would be the loss of innocent life and the fall of the temple.26
The Human One began to weep. And yet he continued into the city.
He continued because he was obedient. Even though he knew the only crown he would claim would be a twisted one made of thorns. And the only praise and honor he would receive would be insult and mockery. He continued knowing his throne would be a cross.
So when the Human One was crucified, a king of broken flesh and running blood, we beheld his glory.27
Some say the Holy One looked away when his Son cried out in agony. I do not believe that. I believe he rose from his throne and threw a dark sackcloth over the door of heaven before extinguishing all its lamps. I believe he overturned his throne then took off his sandals and paced among the dust of the clouds. I believe he tore his purple robe and all the angels paused their singing. Then the Holy One sat in silence and wept. Hence it is written:
It was now about noon, and darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon, for the sun stopped shining. And the curtain of the temple was torn in two. Jesus called out with a loud voice, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.” When he had said this, he breathed his last.28
Luke 23:44-46
The King and the Maiden
Once in a far away Kingdom there lived a King.29 The King was good but he was also powerful. He was feared and respected by all who lived in his Kingdom and no one would dare refuse his request.
One evening the King was lying alone in his quarters, tossing and turning in his big empty bed.30 He had been tossing and turning for hours because he had realized, quite to his shock, that he had fallen in love. He hadn’t set out to fall in love but it had happened anyway. For in his kingdom there lived a beautiful maiden whose mere glance had captured his heart. And now the King lay awake unable to think of anything but her beautiful face. Though this maiden was of humble birth,31 he had in mind to make her his Queen.
Once he had resolved to do so, all that was left was to figure out the manner of his proposal.
He thought to himself: I know what I’ll do. In the morning, I will ride out with all my royal knights, leading them upon my white horse, in my finest robes, and wearing my golden crown. I will go to the maiden’s home and knock upon her door. When she arrives at the door, I will be upon one knee and I will ask her to marry me. If she says, ‘yes,’ we will ride back together to my palace and she shall become my Queen and we will love one another all of our days.32
And so it was resolved.
And yet…
The King still could not sleep. After more tossing and turning, he realized that there was a flaw in his plan.
If I show up with all my royal knights, he thought, the maiden will see them in their armor, with their swords and maces, and feel that she has no choice but to go home with me. How could she possible love me if my first act of courtship is to threaten her at sword point. Love cannot be coerced! No. I’ll leave the knights here. In the morning, I will ride out alone upon my white horse, in my finest robes, and wearing my golden crown. I will go to the maiden’s home and knock upon her door. When she arrives at the door I will be upon one knee and— after making it perfectly clear that she is free to say ‘no’ and her consent will be respected —I will ask her to marry me. If she says, ‘yes,’ we will ride back together to my palace and she shall become my Queen and we will love one another all of our days.
And so it was resolved.
And yet…
The King still could not sleep.
But how will I know she truly loves me? he thought, For what woman WOULDN’T want to be queen. When the maiden sees me on my white horse, with my fine robes, she will of course say ‘yes’ so that she can live in luxury all her days and wield tremendous power and influence. But I’ll never really know if it’s me she loves or if she has just married me to be the Queen. No. In the morning, I will put on tattered clothes and a hood. I will throw dust upon my face and then, disguised as a pauper, I will walk the distance to the maiden’s home and knock upon her door. When she arrives at the door, I will be upon one knee and I will ask her to marry me. If she says, ‘yes,’ I will lower my hood to reveal my golden crown and my servants will appear from around the corner with our horses. Then we will ride back together to my palace and she shall become my Queen and we will love one another all of our days.
And so it was resolved.
And yet…
Who am I kidding! Go in disguise? I’m the King! I have the most famous face in the land. It’s on every banner and coin! How would I ever know if she genuinely thought I was a pauper or if she had merely pretended not to recognize me so that she could be Queen. I would live our whole lives suspicious of her true motives.
The King was distraught. The whole plan was cursed. It seemed that true love would simply be impossible for him. He tossed and turned. Tossed and turned. Then suddenly it occurred to him. He knew exactly what he would do. And so it was resolved and the King slept soundly through the night.
In the morning, the King went to his throne room and called his younger brother. He took his crown and placed it upon his brother’s head. He renounced his title, his land, and his wealth. And now, having been stripped of all his royalty, he walked the distance to the maiden’s house and knocked upon her door. When she arrived at the door, he was upon one knee— not in disguise but, in truth, a pauper —and he asked her to marry him.33
~ Retelling of a parable by Søren Kierkegaard
Hosanna in the Highest Heaven
Thank you for reading and being a part of this journey with me this year. As a gift, here is a poem I wrote for Palm Sunday. Feel free to use it in your service however you’d like.
"Hosanna in the highest Heaven," all you children sing!
Come lay your coats and lift your branches for our coming king,
You shame the wise and learned with the joyous songs you bring.
"Hosanna in the highest Heaven," all you children sing!
"Hosanna in the highest Heaven," all you elders bless,
The holy name of David's son who comes in righteousness,
To break the heavy yoke of sin and give your spirits rest.
"Hosanna in the highest Heaven," all you elders bless!
"Hosanna in the highest Heaven," all you men rejoice!
The very rocks will cry out if you fail to lend your voice,
So crucify or glorify, it's time to make your choice.
"Hosanna in the highest Heaven," all you men rejoice!
"Hosanna in the highest Heaven," all you women speak!
O daughter Zion, Mary's son brings justice for the weak.
In Him there is no slave nor free, there is no Jew nor Greek.
"Hosanna in the highest Heaven," all you women speak!
"Hosanna in the highest Heaven," all you pious pray!
For Israel's Messiah comes as ancient prophets say:
He gently rides an ass's foal as children lead the way.
"Hosanna in the highest Heaven," all you pious pray!
"Hosanna in the highest Heaven," all you sinners cry!
For God so loved the world he sent His only son to die,
That whosoever trusts in him might have eternal life.
"Hosanna in the highest Heaven," all you sinners cry!
"Hosanna in the highest Heaven," all you people sing!
Come lay your coats and lift your branches for our coming king,
Prepare your hearts for entering the Kingdom that He brings.
"Hosanna in the highest Heaven," all you people sing!~ Danny Nettleton
SERMONTELLING NOTES:
Beginning this story in verse 19:29 seems natural enough, but verse 19:28 might have been better. The introductory phrase “After Jesus had said this…” which we find in verse 28 connects this story the the parable of the talents, Jesus last recorded words before he enters Jerusalem. As this story unfolds, we discover several indications that Jesus believes Jerusalem and the Temple stand under God’s judgement, and that this reality is very much on his mind during the triumphal entry.
Bethany and Bethphage are two villages on the southeastern slope of the Mount of Olives. Bethphage is not mentioned elsewhere in scripture, but Bethany is given as the hometown of Lazarus and his two sisters, Mary and Martha. It is possible that their influence is at work in the ease with which Jesus’ disciples procure use of a donkey from strangers.
The entry of the Messiah into Jerusalem (as Matthew’s gospel makes clear) aligns with Zechariah 9:9. This passage promises a king who will bring peace on the land and set Zion’s prisoners free.
“Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord” is a brief snatch from Psalm 118. In church, we read this story from Luke most often on the Sunday before Easter, called Palm Sunday. Luke does not mention the palm branches in his telling of the story, nor does he report the cries of “Hosanna!” found in the Mark and Matthew, even though both of these details are in alignment with the text surrounding the quote from Psalm 118.
The Pharisees want Jesus to tone down the royal overtones of his disciples’ cries, perhaps in fear of a rebellion and violent Roman reprisal.
This mention of the rocks crying out echoes Habakkuk 2:11. In this context, they are words of justice spoken against the one who “…builds his house on unjust gain…” Like the ground that was tainted by the blood of Abel, the stones and beams of this house will call out to God for judgement. These words my seem out of place, here, but the following passage (19:42-44) reminds us that God’s coming judgement on Jerusalem is already on Jesus’ mind.
Jesus weeps only twice in scripture: here, and at the grave of his friend Lazarus. He takes no joy on what he sees as God’s coming judgement on Israel.
Jesus draws a compelling picture of the sacking of Jerusalem. Some scholars suggest that these words belong not to Jesus, but to the early church, who will later witness the fall of Jerusalem at the hands of the Romans in CE 70. However, Jerusalem has already fallen once at the hands of the Babylonians. Evoking that earlier scene as a picture of what God’s judgement might look like at some later time is perfectly in keeping with the prophetic imagination of the Hebrew Bible.
The Holy One Mourns
It may seem strange to be providing a story about mourning on Palm Sunday and yet that is exactly the sort of story Luke gives us. He gives us a Palm Sunday that is more subdued than the other accounts. There are no palms. Jesus does not enter triumphantly through the gates of Jerusalem, rather it is his own followers who announce his kingship while he is still enroute. And he stops to weep for the fate of the city. As Bruce pointed out above, this is one of two times Jesus is described in scripture as weeping.
This story from the Hebrew Midrash describes God’s weeping for the destruction of the Jerusalem Temple. In the original parable (this is not my flourish) God repeatedly asks how a king of flesh and blood mourns. That question is a wonderful place setter for Holy Week. We will see in the coming days how a King of flesh and blood mourns. But it begins with him on a hill overlooking the city, not exulting in the cheers of the crowd that he’s brought with him, but lamenting the fate of the people who lie before him.
Perhaps every four years a Palm Sunday without palms and hosannas is okay.
Hebrew Midrash are written in the form of a running commentary on scripture. For this reason, the stories are very economical. I have added to this midrash, the lines that begin so it was that on the day the second temple fell… in order to make explicit what is implied by the story.
If you pay any attention to these verses in their original contexts you will quickly see that none of them apply to God’s mourning during the fall of the Second Temple (or the first for that matter). Ancient exegetes took for granted that in addition to a verse’s literal (peshat) meaning, it also contained deeper spiritual meanings. They often linked verses from disparate parts of the scriptural corpus and linked them together in ways modern interpreters find to be confounding. Three things should be noted. First, for most early interpreters, scripture was an oral heritage. Passages were memorized and committed to heart. In other words, they weren’t flipping back and forth in their bibles to make connections between verses (or running back and forth between scrolls); they were calling passages to mind. For that reason the spatial distance between verses would have been thought of very differently. Second, scripture was thought to be God’s direct communication written down by prophetic writers. For this reason, original context was almost irrelevant. What God really means by a word of scripture is far more important than whatever Moses or King David might have originally thought they were writing about. God used what happened to them to speak to us today. It took a wise and discerning exegete to follow the clues and see what God was up to. Thirdly, this form of reading scripture was the dominant paradigm beginning in the Hellenistic age and lasting through the Middle Ages. And we see numerous examples of this not just in the Midrash but in the writings of the Church fathers and the New Testament.
Ancient cosmology envisioned a doorway in the firmament that allowed passage between the heavens. 1 Enoch gives a vivid description of Enoch passing through two doorways (analogous to the two doorways in the sanctuary): the first leading to the second heaven where the lightning and hail are stored and the second leading to the throne room of God above the waters. The darkness that covers the earth can be thought of as literally covering the door.
The lamps could also be a symbolic reference to the menorah which was snuffed out in the temple and taken to Rome (as famously depicted by the Arch of Titus). God is extinguishing the seven heavenly lamps (the sun, moon, and the five planets visible to the naked eye) even as he allows the seven lamps of the sanctuary which are to burn continually day and night to be snuffed out by pagan invaders.
Overturning beds and couches, though not often practiced today, was once a common part of Jewish mourning practice. During the week following the burial of loved one, mourners were to sit on the ground like Job and his friends. Hence the sitting in sitting shiva.
The image seems that the thrones are being set up as in turned up so that God has to sit on the ground. And that he his taking his seat, not in the sense of sitting down on it but in the sense of taking it away. This totally belies the plain meaning of this verse but see above. This event is admittedly more confusing than the others and I am tempted to leave it out. But eliminating them would damage the sevenfold scheme discussed below.
The temple curtain was often conceptualized as being the train of God’s robe. It seems there was a well known tradition that Titus himself cut the temple curtain. In one version, God caused the curtain to bleed so that Titus would go no further, thinking that he had vanquished God. Do with that what you will.
English Bibles will render this verse something like:
The LORD has done what he planned; he has fulfilled his word
Lamentations 2:17
Fulfilled his word makes the most sense in context. But if the right vowels are supplied, the Hebrew could also mean, ‘rent his robe.’ The ancient interpreters saw, in this variation, God winking at them through Jeremiah’s words and inviting them to seek a deeper meaning.
This is the seventh of God’s acts of mourning. I don’t need to tell you that seven is never an accidental number in Jewish tradition. In the same way the seven days of creation are intertwined with the building of the temple so these cosmic acts of mourning are intertwined with its destruction. While we shouldn’t look in this tradition for 1 to 1 analogies between the acts of mourning and the days of creation, I do find it interesting that the sequence begins with the act of creating darkness and ends with a God who has been depicted as overturning furniture and pacing, now sitting and weeping, at rest in his mourning.
The Human One Mourns
This is my modern reflection on the very ancient story above (Lamentations Rabbah is one of the oldest Midrashic texts). My goal is to present this week’s text in the style of an aggadic Midrash. I imagine it coming later in a sermon as a counterweight to the first story.
In my Bible Study, we’ve been using the CEB Study Bible. I highly recommend it for its notes and resources but I’ve not always been a huge fan of the translation. One of the translation choices that bothered me was the use of Human One in place of Son of Man. Oddly it has grown on me. I like it for this story because I like how Human One contrasts with Holy One.
The same age King David was crowned.
Messengers of the Human One contrast with the angels of the Holy One.
Luke’s Gospel depicts the triumphal part happening before the entry. It is the climax of Jesus’ southward journey on the road. He is recognized as King by the outsiders he has collected along the way but his Kingship will be rejected once he enters the city.
I’m not satisfied with this paragraph. It doesn’t feel like it has the same tone and I may ultimately remove it from the story altogether. I think the meaning-making is important about why Jesus is weeping for Jerusalem but I think it could occur somewhere else in the sermon to allow this telling to have that more stylized story quality.
This line and the preceding line play on the allusions to John 1 and Philippians 2, earlier in the story. They are alluded to this time in reverse order.
I haven’t worked out this Sunday’s sermon out yet but I know that it end right here. I want to end on the image of Christ’s obedience and the Father’s mourning. I also want to leave the meaning-making up to the hearer. It is my hope that the arresting image of cosmic mourning will follow the hearer through the events of Holy Week. To me there is something so profound in the image of God’s mourning for his temple and his people being tied up in his mourning for his beloved Son. I’m not sure exactly what it all says and means but I know the image is not done with me.
The King and the Maiden
The following is my version of a parable by Søren Kierkegaard. It is my go to when trying to teach on the self-emptying love of God that we find in passages like Philippians 2. Over the years, Kierkegaard’s more sparse illustration has evolved into this version through countless retellings.
The preceding sentences are an illustration of the tried and true order of operations when it comes to starting an oral story. I call it: Somewhere, Someone, Every day, One day. Though this is my nomenclature, it is just a distillation of the way oral stories typically begin and a good blueprint to follow when you are unsure of how to begin your own. You begin with the setting (somewhere). Setting is time, place, and genre/mood. In this case, Once in a far away Kingdom does a lot of heavy lifting. We’ve been conditioned by so many fairytales to hear these words and supply the setting in our imaginations. The Someone is a King. In oral storytelling, you give only the most important details. The hearer doesn’t need vivid descriptions of how the King’s silver hair cascaded from his crown to his neck which was constantly tilted forward over his robes like a vulture searching for prey— unless those details are integral to the story. (If a plot point is going to revolve around a glass eye, for instance, you will want to bring it up when you first introduce the character). The imagination is a powerful thing. Most hearers only need to know there is a king in a far away land and they can do the rest. The Every day is the status quo that is about to be interrupted by the one day that starts the action of the story. In this case, we need to know that in the King’s normal life, he is respected and feared and no one refuses his requests. This will be the source of his bind.
This is an important detail. The second part of the King’s bind will rest on the hearer understanding that it is not a wealthy aristocrat that he is contemplating courting but someone of humble origin. It is best to establish these crucial details before they are needed by the hearer at a time when it is natural to divulge them. The storyteller doesn’t want to constantly interrupt the flow of the story by saying, “By the way, you should know X.” This is an important tip for telling a joke as well. Think through what are the details necessary for the punchline to land and when do those details need to be revealed.
These peaks into the King’s inner dialogue are an opportunity for the storyteller to get animated and exercise your acting chops. If that thing doesn’t come naturally to you, visualize the King’s face as he says these things. I know it’s inner thought but visualize the king saying these things out loud. I’ve found that By doing this, my own facial expressions and voice will naturally mirror the face/voice of the character who is talking.
What happens next!?!? I have found to my surprise and delight that the hearer gets really invested in this story. I see people leaning in. Normally when you tell a story in a sermon setting, you want to close the loop on any unresolved tensions. You don’t want people worrying about what happened next when you’ve moved on to other things. This story presents a tricky problem. It purposefully leaves on a cliffhanger. The King is analogous to God who in Jesus Christ has emptied himself of his divinity in order to pursue the beloved. How the beloved responds is the question for each hearer to answer in their own life.
So what to do? I’ve learned that you can acknowledge the itch without scratching it. In other words, telling the hearer that the question won’t be resolved allows them to momentarily set it aside and move on with you. The way I do this with this story is usually by saying something like this:
And that’s it. That’s the end of the story. Don’t blame me. Blame Kierkegaard. Every time I tell it people want to know what happens next. Do they (kiss kiss)? Do they live happily ever after? I don’t know. But I think maybe that’s the point. Jesus Christ stands at each of our door having given up everything to win us and we have to answer. Yes. or No. Fairytale or tragedy. It’s up to you. What will your answer be?