The Epistle Lesson                                                         Philippians 2:5-11

Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus:

who, though he existed in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be grasped, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, assuming human likeness.

And being found in appearance as a human, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death— even death on a cross.

Therefore God exalted him even more highly and gave him the name that is above every other name, so that at the name given to Jesus every knee should bend, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

Sermon Text

 Traditionally, Churches will observe one or two things on Palm Sunday. The Liturgy of the Palms, where we wave our branches and remember when the crowds outside Jerusalem did the same, or the Liturgy of the Passion, where we recount the crucifixion in preparation for the Easter celebration we all will partake in next week. The difference in service is usually decided by whether or not the Church has Holy Week services – if you have Good Friday service, why have two services recounting the crucifixion in one week? Today though, I’d like to do something like splitting the difference. We remember the celebration of Palm Sunday, we do so looking ahead to the crucifixion, and we do so by remembering just what Jesus’s entire work upon the earth was about.

We start at the beginning, or lack thereof. There was never a time when Christ was not. You and I are finite in our existence, our soul forming sometime in the process of our coming into being or being born. There was a time when you were not and I were not, but there was never a time, unbelievable as that seems, where there was not The Son of God, the only Word of the Father, existing alongside the other members of the Godhead in perfect unity. Before the first word was uttered, before the big bang went from a singularity to the entirety of being, here was the oneness of the Divine. Christ always was, and would have existed eternally in the infinitely expansive sublimity of God’s presence within the Godhead.

The full complexity of God’s pre-creationary existence was made clearer when God first created this universe we live in. Suddenly, there was a contrast, the finite and definite creation contrasted with the infinite and sundry persons of God. Father, Son, and Spirit knew no limits but every element and piece of creation – from the sky above to the waters below – had boundaries and limits all around.

Christ still could exist without limitation, could still experience the infinite existence he had always known. Yet, something greater than that was coming, something greater than the perfect presence of the Godhead or the adoration of angels or the infinite span of eternity. The greatest thing that Christ could or would ever do was found – not in further exaltation – but in deliberate, intentional, and complete humiliation. The infinite God of the universe, took on an impossibly smaller form, gave up the benefits of divinity – though never giving up divinity itself – all for the chance to reconcile the creation God loved so much.

We cannot conceive the sacrifice Christ made, even before the cross, in his taking on human form. In becoming a human being, the fullness of Christ’s divinity suddenly had limitations. There was a stopping point to his being – he had hands and feet, organs and dimensions. His eyes could only see so far and his ears hear so much. Cold could chill him, heat could exhaust him, and the first few minutes of every day would greet him with aches and pains just like they greet anyone else on earth.

The one who “does not faint or grow weary,” now had to rest.[1] His perfect and spiritual substance, now united to flesh could get sick – he had to cut teeth and fight fevers. Every rock he slept on would press into his back as a source of dull pain, every cut on his foot would rub against his sandal and be made raw, every pain and every trouble of humanity came his way. The Perfect Son of God, tempted at every step, still never sinned. In this alone, Christ was different from us in his humanity – that he never strayed from his Father’s will. Yet, in all other things, the God who never needed to feel anything negative in all of eternity, chose to take it all on, even unto death, even death on a cross.

Palm Sunday is a day we remember people understanding, even for a moment, who Jesus was. The rich quaked in fear in the city, while the poor country folk celebrated in the streets. Palms were waved that would not be taken up in Christ’s presence till the reign of God is fully inaugurated at the end of time. The King of all Creation, who had seen unspeakable creatures worship him in eternity past, now accepted the simple praise of human beings running naked in a filthy street. A celebration half-hearted in its adoration, not knowing who Christ fully was or what was about to happen – an echo of something far in the past and far still in the future.

Today we remember that celebrating what Christ did is a celebration of emptiness. In Greek, Christ’s setting aside of the benefits of his divinity is called his, “Kenosis.” A scooping out of who he was, just so that he could fully take on humanity, and not only that but the poorest and most destitute and most troubled experience of humanity he could face. Jesus faced all this, not for his own good, but out of devotion to his Father and love for his creation.

It is because of this humility, because of this willingness to be humiliated, that Christ holds the status he holds in our hearts today. Still fully human, though raised and perfected in glory, Jesus is now the perfect and fullest demonstration of both God and humanity in one single entity. In Heaven there sits a human person, seated at the right hand of the Father as he had previously only done in Spirit. Christ the Lord, raised and given the name which is above all other names, because though he was fully God and had all the benefits thereof, he was willing to shed it all for the good of those he loved.

Today we wave our palms and cry out our praises, but we do so with the knowledge that what we celebrate was horrific for the one who receives our praises. The heartbreak of the Last Supper, the horror of the Crucifixion, all await us before we can step into the resurrection. Today, though we celebrate, let us do so fully aware of what is happening in front of us. – Amen.

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[1] Isaiah 40:31