Break A Few Eggs : Who's The Boss Again?

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Hello and welcome back to another week here on Making Waves! We’re so glad that you are able to join us as we continue to dive into the story of the Passion of Christ this Easter season. If this is your first time joining us for this, I would highly recommend going back and checking out the last two sermons, but if that’s beyond your time crunch schedule, I’ll start off with a quick summary.

Two weeks ago, we started a series called Break A Few Eggs, where we started to talk about the strange symbolism of eggs on the Easter message. We always see the dyed eggs or the candy-filled plastic eggs, but we’re never sure WHY those exist. There are a lot of ways to interpret those little symbols, but we’ve been looking at them as reminders of the life of Christ and what he represented in His coming and dying for our sins.

The first week we talked about Jesus coming and bringing with Him  a chance for a new covenant. A chance for us to receive what He called ‘The Living Water.’ We said that when we see the Blue colored eggs around town, we would think about the new covenant that Christ brought with Him to the world. The Living Water that fulfills our life and makes us never thirst again.

Then last week, we talked about the grim reality of death and how much we are afraid of it. We talked about Lazarus and the sadness of his sisters in his death. We related it back to our human understanding of death and talked about how, thanks to Jesus, we don’t have to be afraid of death. Even though our flesh will die, Jesus gives us the gift of eternal life through Him. And so, when we see a Red colored egg, we would think about the flesh of mankind that we are breaking out of in our acceptance of Christ. As Paul would put it, we have died to the world already. So, like a peeled boiled egg, we have already shed our breakable human flesh.

And that brings us to this week, which I know all of you are just anxiously waiting in your seats for another random and loosely-related egg fact. And don’t worry, I’ve got us covered. Perhaps some of you have heard of this before… have you ever heard of Egg Tempera? It may sound like a delicious and nutritious oriental dish of some kind, but it might be more familiar to some of you who attend our art class here at Pelham UMC on Saturdays. Before the popular rise of oil-based tempera paint, artists of the pre-Renaissance and Renaissance era used a tempera paint that was composed of pigment, vinegar and -you guessed it- egg yolk. Botticelli used the medium, as well as Michelangelo. There are likely some who still use it today, although most out there switched to oil-based when the paint became popular. But isn’t that amazing? Something that we think of as little more than a delicious substance in our fridge was once used to create beautiful works of art. It shows that perhaps there are deeper purposed to all of God’s creations. Perhaps we can all be used to deliver a beautiful image of God in the world, even if it seem unconventional.

Now then, before I begin to a-poach any egg puns, let’s dive into the Word and see what surprise scripture has in store for us today. We are going to be reading from the Gospel of Matthew, reading from the New Revised Standard Version. If you’d prefer to use a different version of the scripture, please feel free to do so. We’ll be reading the Palm Sunday scripture from the 21st chapter of the Gospel. If you’ll join me in the scripture below:

Jesus’ Triumphal Entry into Jerusalem

21 1 When they had come near Jerusalem and had reached Bethphage, at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, 2 saying to them, “Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her; untie them and bring them to me. 3 If anyone says anything to you, just say this, ‘The Lord needs them.’ And he will send them immediately.” 4 This took place to fulfill what had been spoken through the prophet, saying,

5 “Tell the daughter of Zion,
Look, your king is coming to you,
   humble, and mounted on a donkey,
       and on a colt, the foal of a donkey.”

6 The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them; 7 they brought the donkey and the colt, and put their cloaks on them, and he sat on them. 8 A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. 9 The crowds that went ahead of him and that followed were shouting,

“Hosanna to the Son of David!
   Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!
Hosanna in the highest heaven!”

10 When he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil, asking, “Who is this?” 11 The crowds were saying, “This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee.”

-Matthew 21:1-11 (NRSV)

Will you pray with me? Dear Heavenly Father, I ask that the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts together be acceptable in Your sight, O God. For You are our Rock and our Redeemer. Amen.

My wife, Logan, and I have been recently going on a Netflix binge of one of my all-time favorite television shows: The Office. It’s a hilarious television show starring Steve Carell that is based on this fictional paper company, Dunder Mifflin, in Scranton, Pennsylvania during the early to mid-2000s. The office goes through a series of hijinks, mergers, and drama, but is really tied together by the depiction of what life is like for office workers. The hilarious things that happen on the other end of the phone line when we call in for customer service.

In one episode, the boss, Michael Scott, comes up with this idea for a Willy Wonka-style competition for the company clients and hides five golden tickets in five different paper boxes. The idea behind it being that, if you were to find a golden ticket, you would receive 10% off of your order and you’d be excited and continue to order from this paper company. Well, as most things go for Michael Scott, he doesn’t think this through all the way and puts all five golden tickets on one pallet of 50 or so boxes of paper. He’s quite surprised when the office receives five calls from their biggest client that just receive 5 of the 10% off golden tickets, which, of course, were not marked to say “Only One per Customer.” This leads to the largest client of Dunder Mifflin being given 50% off of their paper shipment, a devastating blow to the company.

Michael Scott, not wanting to be fired, passes the buck onto his scapegoat number two Dwight Schrute and demands that Dwight take the fall for his mistake. Michael gets a call suddenly from David Wallace, the CFO of Dunder Mifflin, who says that he is on his way to Scranton, assumably to lecture Michael and then fire him. When David Wallace gets at the branch, Michael points at Dwight and, before Dwight can defend himself, the CFO congratulates Dwight on a terrific idea. The huge client was so excited by the fantastic deal and idea that they increased their shipment rate by more than enough to make up for the deficit and even give surplus to the company. And now Dwight, initially an unwilling scapegoat, has become a more-than-willing recipient of this praise, with Michael Scott trying desperately to explain that it was actually his idea to begin with. I’ll let you watch the rest of the story yourself, if you’d like, but here’s why I am telling you this: there is always another side to the story. David Wallace saw only what he had been told in this situation: Dwight had come up with the Willy Wonka idea and it had produced surplus. But, in reality, there is another side to this story where Michael Scott came up with the idea and was a major part of it all.

Sometimes our Biblical stories can have hidden characters like that. There are characters that we look over. I think that our passage from this morning is guilty of that very circumstance. With the excitement of the story, we can be tempted to only see the surface level of the situation. Let’s look at this painting from Hippolyte Flandrin, titled “Entry into Jerusalem.”

Hippolyte Flandrin, c. 1842.

Now, I would doubt that Flandrin used eggs-based tempera on this piece, though it’s always possible. But regardless, there is a strong message given off by this selection, isn’t there? What are some things we might notice from the get-go about this? I’m not expecting some kind of expert art-critic answers here, but just think to yourself and allow yourself some time to look at this piece.

My mind may just work this way, but I instantly go to the dude holding the baby in the top right corner. The stark contrast of his actions to the others in the painting blows me away. Maybe next I see the man who is literally begging before Christ on the ground before His path. I wonder if perhaps this man could be amongst the crowd that very week who would be shouting out “Crucify Him! Crucify Him!” Of course, we all notice Jesus, right? It’s no challenge to point out where He is in the painting. Maybe some might notice the bright spotlight on the center of the painting, seeming to illuminate Christ in the foreground of the darkened crowd. Perhaps we notice, as we are apt to do, the palm branches in the hands of the disciples behind Christ, or in the hands of the crowd.

Did I miss anything? Jesus’ immaculately trimmed beard? Perhaps this disciple being Judas, who cannot even look in the direction of Christ, knowing full well that he will be the betrayer? Or is it something else? Something small? Something easy to overlook?

We never seem too apt to talk much about the donkey. Perhaps we were too embarrassed to call it by it’s Biblical title, or maybe we want to steer clear of any misinterpreted political message, seeing as there are few elephants in the Bible to equal out the bipartisan nature of our government, since the Bible was certainly written for that purpose of interpretation (sarcasm, in case it doesn’t come across). Regardless, for this message, I want us to take our eyes away from the entry into town, away from the palm trees and Jesus’ delightful beard and divine jawline, and instead I want us to focus on what lies beneath our Savior: a humble, dirty, unimpressive donkey. In order for us to really dive into this, I’ve found a poem that I’d like us to read. I plan to read it three times for my live crowd, so if you’d like, here are my recommendations: read it silently once-over. After you are finished, take a moment and pray. Then, read it a second time - this time out loud. After that, continue on with this message. Finally, read it once more at the close of the sermon. I’ll include it once more at the finish, to make this easier.

The Poet Thinks of the Donkey, by Mary Oliver

On the outskirts of Jerusalem

the donkey waited.

Not especially brave, or filled with understanding,

he stood and waited.

How horses, turned out into the meadow,

leap with delight!

How doves, released from their cages,

clatter away, splashed with sunlight.

But the donkey, tied to a tree as usual, waited.

Then he let himself be led away.

Then he let the stranger mount.

Never had he seen such crowds!

And I wonder if he at all imagined what was to happen.

Still, he was what he had always been: small, dark, obedient.

I hope, finally, he felt brave.

I hope, finally, he loved the man who rode so lightly upon him,

as he lifted one dusty hoof and stepped, as he had to, forward.

I love this piece. What a wonderful way of looking at this humble servant of Christ. So, let’s talk about the donkey. What does Mary Oliver illicit from this donkey? What kind of message does she receive from the actions that take place?

Well, first off, what do we first see about the donkey? At the start of the poem, the donkey was waiting. There was really little else to the animal at that point. Oliver seems to continue to state this message: the donkey was waiting. We’re not sure for what purpose the donkey was waiting, nor are we sure what made them start waiting in the first place. We can’t really tell when they first started waiting. All that the reader knows is that the donkey is, has been, and was waiting.

And what next of our friend, the donkey? The poet tells us that the donkey wasn’t special. The donkey saw the horses in the field, happy and filled with purpose. Maybe the donkey wanted to be like the horses. But instead, it waited. It saw the doves, splashed with sunlight, free of their cages. But here was the donkey, basic, bland, ordinary, and simply, waiting.

But all of the sudden, the donkey is led away, right? He is led away and lets a stranger mount. Next, the donkey is in a huge crowd, going from a bland and dreary life of waiting to a life of sudden and unexpected purpose. And, even in the midst of all of this ruckus and excitement, the poet delivers my personal favorite line of this poem: Still, he was what he had always been: small, dark, obedient. Still, he was what he had always been. Wow. The donkey was unchanged. He was still who he was, not some celebrity receiving accolades or praise. Not bigger than that which he carried, but unchanged and humble.

Finally, the poet closes with her hopes for this donkey. The poet hopes that the donkey feels brave, and that the donkey finally loves the stranger. She hopes this because, either way, the donkey moves as he had to, forward.

Now, let’s do something incredible. When we read scripture, we naturally read ourselves into the story. Sometimes we picture ourselves as Christ, hoping to live our lives as Christians, being like Christ. Sometimes we see ourselves in the ignorance of the duh-sciples, clueless and questioning. Sometimes we view ourselves as the pharisees, or the gentiles, or the Israelites, the list goes on. What if, in this instance, we are to read ourselves into the odd character of the donkey? What if this message was less of the honoring of Christ, and more of our mission for today. Let’s take our messages from the earlier paragraphs before and replace some words around.

Mankind was waiting.

Mankind wasn’t special.

Mankind was unchanged.

Perhaps we are the donkey. We are the ones who were waiting. We waited and we waited on the coming of Christ into the world, and now that He has come into the world, we are like the donkey bearing the load of a stranger into the world. We weren’t special. We see the world and the creatures who are doing what we long to do. We long to be Tom Cruise, or Steven Furtick, or Kobe Bryant. We desire the lives of the celebrities, but instead we were here waiting. We aren’t special of our own accord, but instead we are given purpose in the bearing of Christ into the world. And then finally, we are unchanged. We don’t become some miraculous super-saint who can do no wrong, We are who we have been, we aren’t perfect and we are hypocrites, but we bear the load of the one true Christ into the city that is the world.

I’d like to read the poem one last time before the end of this sermon, but first, this week’s egg: the Purple egg of royalty. Not our royalty, but the royalty of the one whom we bear on our backs as we deliver His message into the world. When you see a purple egg around this Easter season, think of the royalty of Christ and the humility that we are called to, as the servant hearted people who bear the message of Christ.

And now, with the full message in mind, let’s hear once more, this poem:

The Poet Thinks of the Donkey, by Mary Oliver

On the outskirts of Jerusalem

the donkey waited.

Not especially brave, or filled with understanding,

he stood and waited.

How horses, turned out into the meadow,

leap with delight!

How doves, released from their cages,

clatter away, splashed with sunlight.

But the donkey, tied to a tree as usual, waited.

Then he let himself be led away.

Then he let the stranger mount.

Never had he seen such crowds!

And I wonder if he at all imagined what was to happen.

Still, he was what he had always been: small, dark, obedient.

I hope, finally, he felt brave.

I hope, finally, he loved the man who rode so lightly upon him,

as he lifted one dusty hoof and stepped, as he had to, forward.

Amen.