If These Were Silent, the Stones Would Shout

Luke 19:28-40
Palm Sunday 2010

“I tell you, if these were silent, the very stones would cry out,” Jesus said (Luke 19:40). Every so often, at least, it is good to be reminded that we are not the center of the universe. I am not the center of the universe. You are not the center of the universe. My family is not the center of the universe, and your family is not the center of the universe. Human beings are not the center of the universe, and the planet we inhabit is not the center of the universe. All those centers are fallacies: egocentric, ethnocentric, anthropocentric, geocentric. Jesus’ words to the Pharisees in this morning’s Gospel lesson are a reminder that none of us is the center of the universe: “If these were silent, the stones would shout.”

Now, if the idea of stones shouting strikes you as off center, I would remind you of the biblical testimony that all creation is sentient and responsive to the glory and the grace of God. Job 38:7 speaks of the joy of all creation at the very beginning “when the morning stars sang together.” Psalm 19 begins, “The heavens are telling the glory of God, and the vault of heaven proclaims God’s handiwork.” Isaiah 55:12 says, “The mountains and the hills . . . burst forth into singing, and all of the trees of the field . . . clap their hands.” Romans 1:20 insists, “Ever since the creation of the world, God’s eternal power and divine nature, invisible though they are, have been understood and seen through the things God has made.” So God has never been without a witness to God’s glory and grace. And God never will be without a witness to God’s glory and grace: “I tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout.”

That was Jesus’ answer to those Pharisees who objected to the exuberance and the enthusiasm of the crowd around Jesus. For good religious people who had placed their trust in orderliness and rule-following, this crowd was out of order and breaking the rules. Orderliness and rule-following required that the grace of God be meted out a small portion at a time and only to those who deserved it—those who had earned it by abiding by the order and following the rules. That’s why Jesus butted heads with the Pharisees so often in the Gospels. Not because Jesus was against order and against rules. In fact, in many ways, Jesus’ order and Jesus’ rules were far more demanding than those of the Pharisees.

For example, the Pharisees taught, “You shall not kill,” and “whoever kills shall be liable to judgment.” But Jesus said, “If you are angry with your brother or sister, you are liable to judgment. And if you insult a brother or sister, you are liable to the council. And if you so much as say ‘You fool!’ to someone, you will be liable to the hell of fire” (Matthew 5:22). Wow! I’ll take “Thou shall not kill,” thank you very much. The Pharisees’ rule is easier. The Pharisees taught, “You shall not commit adultery,” but Jesus said, “every one who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart” (Matthew 5:28). Oh good Lord! Not committing adultery—hard as it may be for some of us—is a lot easier than that. Sign me up to be a Pharisee, please. Jesus’ way is way too hard.

The reason Jesus and the Pharisees butted heads is that the Pharisees had placed the center of their faith and practice in rule-following and order-keeping, while Jesus taught that you cannot earn the grace of God by following the rules and keeping the order. The grace of God is freely and extravagantly given to those who deserve it and even to those who do not. There’s the difference. You cannot control the glory and grace of God in a holy place or a holy people or a holy nation or a holy book. The glory and grace of God are out and about and accessible to all who have eyes to see and ears to hear. The morning stars sing it together; the heavens tell it; the mountains and hills break forth into song, and the trees clap their hands; and the crowd was shouting as Jesus made his way into Jerusalem. If the crowd were silent, the stones would have shouted because God never has been and never will be without a witness to God’s glory and God’s grace.

But the Pharisees aren’t the only characters in this morning’s gospel lesson who have misplaced the center. The crowd has missed the mark as well. If as the gospels suggest, Jesus entered Jerusalem directly from the Mount of Olives and the Kidron Valley to the east of Jerusalem, then he passed through what is called the “Golden Gate,” a massive double gate that is the only east-facing portal on the entire eastern wall of old Jerusalem. The Golden Gate is of legendary and mythic proportion among Jews and Christians and Muslims alike. In the Jewish tradition, the Golden Gate is the gate through which Messiah will enter. In the Christian tradition, the Golden Gate is the gate of Jesus’ triumphal entry. In some Muslim traditions, the Golden Gate is the place of Allah’s last judgment. It is so holy a place for Muslims that a zealously protected Muslim cemetery rises up the western bank of the Kidron Valley up against the wall and right up to the gate. So auspicious was the gate in antiquity and so associated without exuberant and outrageous claims such as “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord!” that in the year 810, the gate was sealed by Jerusalem’s Muslim keepers, and it is has never been opened since. In fact, it is cordoned off and guarded, literally, to keep tourists and rabble rousers, Jewish, Christian and Muslim alike, away from it.

The last time I was in Jerusalem and on the Temple Mount, my teacher and mentor and friend John Durham with whom I was travelling walked me to the path that led down to the Golden Gate and bribed the guard standing there to allow me to pass over the chains and down the walk, down the steps toward the Golden Gate. I walked until the guard called me back, either because I had reached the limit of his permission or Durham hadn’t given him enough cash to let me go farther. The Golden Gate is off-limits because it has long been associated with inflammatory claims like “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest heaven!”

You see, the announcement that a king was approaching through the Golden Gate would not have been welcome news to either the Roman authorities or the Jewish authorities in Jerusalem. The upcoming Passover festival when throngs of pilgrims filled the city every year was a tense and frequently violent time in the old city, and like so many crowds before them and since, the crowd at the Golden Gate of Jerusalem that day was caught up in more than the glory and the grace of God. In spite of the fact that Jesus had told them repeatedly that he was going to Jerusalem to die, there were still those even among Jesus’ closest followers who believed that now was the time he was going to restore the kingdom of Israel as the king of the line of David who would throw off Roman rule and bring back the kingdom at last. The king the crowd welcomed that day was a king of their own expectation, not the king whom Jesus was born to become.

The earliest Christian commentators on this passage were fascinated by the correlation between the angels’ song on the eve of Jesus’ birth and the shouts of the crowd at the triumphal entry. The angels in Bethlehem sang, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace!” (Luke 2:14). The crowd in Jerusalem shouted, “Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest heaven!” (Luke 19:38). There’s a difference, you see. The crowd in Jerusalem that day was not hoping for peace on earth; they were hoping for vindication on earth: political vindication, religious vindication, cultural vindication. And whenever and wherever crowds gather seeking vindication of any sort instead of peace on earth, they must be reminded that they are not the center of the universe. I am not the center of the universe. You are not the center of the universe. My family is not the center of the universe, and your family is not the center of the universe. We human beings are not the center of the universe, and the planet we inhabit is not the center of the universe. We are reminded that all of those centers are fallacies by Jesus’ words, “If these were silent, the stones would shout.”

Jesus did not need the crowd. The stones of the ground and the stones of the road and the stones of the wall and the stones of the gate would have done just as well. Because the rest of the crowd had it just as wrong as the Pharisees among them did. You know it well. Before the week was over, those who were shouting, “Blessed is the king!” hollered, “Crucify him!” Jesus did not come to Jerusalem for a coronation. He came for a crucifixion. Jesus did not come to Jerusalem for vindication, his or anyone else’s. He came for reconciliation—of the world with God and God with the world. And that is why to this day it is not a Golden Gate or a golden crown or golden throne but a wooden cross that is at the center of all genuinely Christian, Jesus-following faith and practice. A wooden cross. “The still turning point of the world,” T. S. Eliot called it. If you are looking for a center—and even if you’re not—there it is. There it is. While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. We did not earn it or deserve it, nor can we. It confounds our expectations and it belies our vindication. It is the centerpiece of the grace and the glory of God; and I tell you, even if these are silent, the stones will shout. Amen.


This material is Copyrighted © 2010 by Jeffrey S. Rogers. It may be copied or disseminated for non-commercial use, provided this notice is included. The author can be contacted at jeffrogers110@bellsouth.net.