Who Do You Say That I Am? "The Humble King"

I'm going to open with a painting I'd like to show you. This is a famous painting that hangs in the Getty Museum in Los Angeles, California. It was painted by a guy named James Enser. As you can see, it's just kind of a chaotic scene of a parade of people filling the streets of Belgium in 1889. There's a marching band and people wearing masks and exaggerated, almost cartoon like depictions of people.

Their banners waving, colorful costumes, makeup music playing. You can almost hear it. It's loud, exciting, a little out of control. Stretching across the top is that large banner. It reads, Viva la Social.

Long live the social movement. It's cheering on the rising socialist and workers movements of that time. It's promising change, promising a better future, promising just a better life for the common people. If you look on the left side, there's another sign right there. It says, dogmatic fanfares always succeed.

It's basically saying if you shout your strong opinions loudly enough and make a big enough show of it, people will follow, even if it's shallow, even if it's wrong. But what makes this painting interesting and what uncovers a hidden figure that we likely completely missed is the title. The title of the painting is Christ's entry into Brussels in 1889. And when you know what you're looking for, you can find them. If you zoom in just right of center, there is Jesus in the middle of a parade in Brussels in 1889.

It's what's called an anachronism. An anachronism is something placed in a book, a play, a movie, artwork that's from the wrong time period, something that doesn't belong. First century Jesus crammed into a modern 1889 parade. Completely out of context. And once you see him, you can't unsee him.

He's got that iconic halo painted over his head. And notice he's riding on a donkey.

Endzer painted this as a reflection, maybe even a parody of the scene from Palm Sunday where Jesus enters Jerusalem riding on a donkey. It's what many have called the triumphal entry. But in Enser's painting, Jesus is hardly the focus of attention.

In fact, almost no one even notices him. He's drowned out by the noise and the chaos all around him. But if you look to the far right and there's one more little poster down there, it says, long live Jesus, King of Brussels.

Endzer never did say just why he painted this scene or what he meant by it. History tells us that he was an atheist himself, but still somehow he resonated with the person of Jesus in several of his paintings. But this painting makes me wonder if Jesus showed up today not in the way we expected, not in power as we would define it, but in humility, in our world full of noise, full of voices, full of people and systems, all promising they can save us, all promising a better life. If he showed up in the middle of all of that without being told to look for him, would we even notice?

Well, today in our series, we get to mark chapter 11 to this palm Sunday scene of Jesus entering Jerusalem riding on a donkey. Now, if you've really been paying attention, then you might have noticed that this takes us backwards in time from the last two weeks. When we looked at Mary anointing Jesus with the expensive perfume and we looked at the Passover meal. Those are both stories that happened after this week. But we were so close to the real Palm Sunday, I figured we could skip ahead and come back.

So this triumphal entry of Jesus into Jerusalem marks the beginning of the final week of Jesus Life. We call it Holy Week. Up to this point, mark has used 10 chapters to give us the history of three years of Jesus life and ministry. And he throws on the brakes hard right here and slows everything down. For Holy Week, Mark spends six more whole chapters just covering the events of the last week of Jesus Life.

That's almost 40% of everything that Mark has to say, all focused on one week. And if we go to Matthew and Luke and John, we realize they actually do the same thing. This final week matters so much to them because this is where everything Jesus has been saying, everything he's been doing, everything he's been revealing about himself, it all finally comes into focus. And as we get to chapter 11, it's Sunday, and on Friday, Jesus will be on a cross. Jesus is the only one who knows this.

And everything he does in this last week of his life is an intentional step toward the cross. Let's read Mark 11, starting in verse one. As they approached Jerusalem and came to Bethpage and Bethany at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two of his disciples saying to them, go to the village ahead of you, and just 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 doing this?

Say the Lord needs it and we'll send it back here shortly. They went and found a colt outside in the street, tied at a doorway. As they untied it, some people standing there asked, what are you doing? Untying that colt. They answered as Jesus had told them to, and the people let them go.

When they brought the colt to Jesus and threw their cloaks over it, he sat on it just like Jesus said. They find a colt, a young donkey tied up, and as they're untying it, people standing there ask the obvious question, what are you doing? And they respond, well, the Lord needs it. And they just say, okay, this just works. This feels similar to what we looked at last week.

Jesus making all of these statements, saying, you'll find a guy carrying a water pitcher, and it'll be just like this. All the things unfolding exactly the way he said it would. This tells us something about Jesus authority and his awareness. He knows things. He sees things.

He's not guessing his way through this moment. And this part always makes me laugh a little bit because it doesn't seem like any of it was prearranged. If it was, they would have asked. They wouldn't have asked, what are you doing untying this colt? They would have been more like, oh, you must be the guys that Jesus said were coming.

Take the donkey, have him back by nine. You know, I mean, imagine trying that today. You just walk out to the parking lot, open somebody's car door, and they say, oh, what are you doing? And you say, the Lord has need of it.

But I find it interesting that with Mark being a man of such few words, he spends seven whole verses describing this scene with the donkey. Why? It doesn't really seem that important. He does this because every single detail about this donkey actually matters. Every part of this moment is loaded with meaning.

So I want to slow way down and just kind of notice some things here. First, it says that the donkey has never been ridden. Why does that matter? Well, in the Old Testament, animals that had never been used or worked were often set apart for sacred purposes. They weren't common.

They weren't just everyday animals. They were reserved, meant for something significant. So this isn't Jesus just grabbing whatever's available. This is intentional. This donkey somehow set apart, prepared for a holy purpose.

And there's something else I don't want to miss. An animal that's never been ridden. They don't calmly cooperate. That's not how it works. An unbroken animal resists, it pushes back.

It's unpredictable. But this donkey carries Jesus with no fight, no chaos, no resistance. And it shows us again that Jesus is Lord of Creation. Mark's just showing us another way quietly, that even the animals obey him. And there's more about this donkey Every other time in the Gospels where Jesus travels somewhere, he's always walking, but this time he takes a ride that sticks out and he chooses to ride a donkey.

Now, to us, that might not seem like that big of a deal, but this decision was actually a huge statement for two reasons. First, and most significantly, hundreds of years earlier, the prophet Zechariah was speaking about becoming Messiah and described the scene just like this moment. In fact, Matthew tells us in his Gospel, Jesus chooses a donkey specifically to fulfill this prophecy that had been written, written 500 years before Jesus during a time when God's people, they had returned from exile in Babylon and they were trying to rebuild Jerusalem. But they're still longing for a true king who will come and fight, finally make things right. This is what zechariah said in Zechariah 9.

9. Rejoice greatly, daughter Zion. Shout, daughter Jerusalem. See your king comes to you righteous and victorious, lowly and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey. It is so easy for us to have the whole Bible and the whole picture in mind and not be absolutely dumbstruck by this moment.

Jesus intentional choice to ride on a donkey into Jerusalem was an intentional choice to directly fulfill a promise that had been sitting there for 500 years. Anyone who knew the Scriptures would have felt the weight of what he was doing. But the two parts of this prophecy seem contradictory to one another. Almost like an oxymoron. Your king comes to you righteous and victorious, that seems right.

But lowly and riding on a donkey, that's the part nobody was looking for. And how can he be both? Because that word, lowly, means afflicted, poor, humble. They're looking for righteous, they're looking for victorious. But no one's looking for lowly.

Everyone expected a warrior king who would rise up against Rome riding on a great war horse. But instead, Jesus comes in humility, riding on a donkey to bring peace. And all of us who have been here over the last year, year and a half should have a little bell ring in our head, this word peace. It isn't just that he came to bring the opposite of war. It isn't just that he came to bring nice and gentle and calm.

This word for peace is huge word that represents so much more. What's that word? Shalom. Shalom. The one riding on the donkey is the Messiah who brings shalom, reconciliation, restoration, healing, and wholeness to all things.

He's a very different kind of king with a very different kind of kingdom. And as Jesus rides this donkey into Town, fulfilling the prophecy, bringing humility and shalom. Here's what happens next. Verse 8. Many people spread their cloaks on the road, while others spread branches they had cut in the fields.

Those who went ahead and those who followed shouted, hosanna. Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord. Blessed is the coming kingdom of our Father David. Hosanna in the highest. And then let's hop over to John's account for a minute.

John 12:12. The large crowd that had come to the feast heard that Jesus was coming to Jerusalem. So they took branches of palm trees and went out to meet him, crying out, hosanna. Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord. Even the King of Israel.

This is why we call this Palm Sunday, because the crowd is waving and laying down palm branches on the road. In the ancient world, palm branches were symbols of victory and celebration. You didn't just do this for just anyone. This was how you welcomed a conquering king, a mighty war hero. They're making the way for the coming king, and they're shouting, hosanna.

Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord. Blessed is the coming King of our Father David. These words come straight from Psalm 118, a Psalm that had long been recognized as pointing to the Messiah. They are publicly declaring that they believe that this man riding on the donkey is the king they've been waiting for. And something that makes this moment significant is how different it is from everything that we've seen in Mark up to this point in his gospel.

For 10 chapters, there's been a pattern. On repeat every time someone correctly identifies Jesus as the Son of God, as the Messiah, whether it's a demon or a person, he shuts it down. He tells them to be quiet multiple times. He keeps his identity from fully being broadcast. But here, he doesn't stop them.

He doesn't correct them. He allows it. In fact, he rides straight into it, fully aware of what this kind of public declaration will set in motion. He knows exactly where this road leads. It leads straight to the cross.

And this is where the tension really begins to rise with Rome and with the religious leaders, because the word they're shouting, hosanna means save us now. That's not just excitement. That's a request. They've seen the miracles. They've heard his teaching.

They've connected him to the prophecies, and they believe he's the one.

But they have a very specific kind of salvation in mind. They want political rescue. They want freedom from Rome. They want control. And stability and power.

They want their situation fixed. They want a king who will take over, overthrow their enemies, and give them the life they are convinced that they deserve. And mark showing us once again that people can be very close to Jesus. They can be amazed by Him. They can see him with their own eyes.

They can even follow him. And still they can misunderstand him, misread his identity, misinterpret his power. They all tried to reshape his purpose to what they wanted him to be for their own gain. Even though he said he came to be the suffering servant who would be given as a ransom for many, even though he said he came to be the greater sacrificial lamb, even though he said that anyone who wants to be his disciple must deny themselves, take up their cross and follow him. Still everyone around him either misses him completely, is afraid that he might take away their power, or only wants to leverage his celebrity and power and influence for themselves.

And all this takes us back to Endzer's painting, where Jesus is an anachronism completely out of place in Brussels in 1889. But he isn't an anachronism just in the sense that he was dropped into the wrong city in the wrong time period. It's a deeper kind of anachronism. Jesus is out of place not just because he doesn't belong there, but because, just like in Jerusalem, he's right in the middle of a culture, a people, a system, and a city that values anything but who he truly is. That's why he's out of place.

Everything else in that painting makes sense together. The noise, the banners, the movement, the energy, the message, the competing voices. It all fits together. It all belongs. Worldly power structures blending in with the masses.

Distraction. The loudest voices with the greatest fanfare are winning. And then there's Jesus. Unnoticed, quiet, humble, riding on a donkey. He doesn't match what the world around him is looking for.

And I think that the real reason they aren't focused on him isn't because they've seen him and rejected him outright. I think it's just that they're not looking for him.

In Mark 11, it's the same story, just in the opposite direction. Here the crowd actually is looking straight at Jesus. They're shouting his name, quoting Scripture, laying down palm branches and cloaks. It looks like. Like worship.

It sounds like belief. But underneath, they're valuing a false version of him rather than the real thing. Their attention is on a fake Jesus. For all the wrong reasons. They're not seeing him as he is.

They're seeing him as they want him to be, looking him right in the face. And still, somehow they completely missed the point, because his real identity doesn't align with their expectations.

And when he refuses to become the kind of king they had in mind, just as quickly as they shouted for him to be king, they shout for him to be killed.

And again, all this makes me wonder. If the real Jesus entered our city today, if he walked into our home, if he was right here in this room, right now with us, would we even notice?

Would we completely misunderstand Him?

Would we see his charisma and his power and follow along for what he can do for us?

And I've got to believe that if nearly every single person who was around him while he walked this planet missed him or misunderstood him, we would do the same thing.

It's easy for us to look at this crowd in Mark 11 and think, how could they miss Him? But the deeper question we need to be asking ourselves is what makes us so sure we're not just like them?

There's some of us who have been in church for years. We show up consistently. We know the songs. We open our Bibles. We can explain lots and lots of things about Him.

And still, it's possible we've missed him not because we're not around him, but because we're looking at him through a distorted lens, a lens shaped by what we want him to be and do, how we want him to act, what we expect from Him. And so maybe we read the Word, but we filter it through these expectations. We follow him, but with conditions around certain things. We stay close enough to be familiar, but not surrendered enough to be changed. And without even realizing it, we begin to shape Jesus into something who fits in to our life.

Instead of allowing him to transform our life.

Others keep their distance from him, not because they've actually truly seen him and decided to walk away, but because they've never actually seen him clearly in the first place. Their picture of Jesus has been shaped by secondhand stories, by culture, by wounds, maybe. Maybe by people who claim to represent him and follow him, but lived in ways that look nothing like Him. And so the conclusion feels justified. I'm not sure I can trust Him.

If that's what he's like. I don't want anything to do with Him. But here's the truth. Most of the time, what's being rejected isn't Jesus as He truly is. It's a version of him that was incomplete or distorted, misinterpreted Misrepresented.

And what makes that so tragic is that people aren't walking away from the real Jesus. They're walking away from a false version of Him.

But here's what I believe is true for every single one of us. When we truly encounter the real Jesus as he truly is, not the version we created, not the version we prefer, not the version we've been told about, but him. His fullness, his faithfulness, his authority, his holiness, his mercy, his call to surrender. There are only two honest responses. We can either turn away from him, or we can fall down at his feet in worship.

We can either walk away because he doesn't fit what we want, or we can worship him because we realize he's exactly who we need. There's no middle ground. Jesus refuses to be just useful, just interesting, just one part of our life. The Bible makes it very clear that lip service is not good enough. It even says.

It says that in the end, many, many will say to him, lord, Lord. And he will say, I never knew you.

Maybe he will not know you because you've never actually known Him.

See, the real Jesus doesn't leave room to be near, but not known. In Mark 11, the crowd thinks they're welcoming a king who will meet their expectations. But Jesus is riding in as a king who will shatter their expectations, not to harm them, but to save them in a way that's far deeper than they could ever imagine. And the most incredible part of this story is he knows all that. He knows they misunderstand him.

He knows that their expectations are misplaced. He knows that many of these same voices will turn on him and he rides in anyway. He doesn't turn around. He doesn't wait for them to get it right. He doesn't withhold himself until they fully understand.

He just keeps moving forward toward betrayal, toward suffering, toward the cross. Because whether we misunderstand him or reshape him or keep our distance from him, or even reject him outright, his mission does not change. He came for us. He came knowing exactly who we are, exactly what it would cost. He knew how we would respond.

And still he goes to the cross. Palm Sunday is the beginning of a road that leads straight to Good Friday.

And we're left with the same question that's been echoing through this entire series. Who do you say that he is?

Is he just useful? Just inspiring, just someone you turn to when you need something? Or is he the king, the Lord of creation, the suffering servant, the one who gave his life for you and now calls for you to follow him?

And this is not a question that we answer with our words. This is a question that we answer with our lives.

Because if he is who he says he is, if he is the King of kings who rode into Jerusalem knowing it would cost him everything, then he is not someone that we get to admire from a distance. He is the King we bow to the Savior we trust, the Lord we surrender everything to. And so the call today is to either lay down the version of Jesus that we've created, the version shaped by our preferences, our expectations, our experiences and our assumptions, or maybe to lift our eyes and see the one we've been ignoring all along and to come face to face with him as he truly is. Not trying to leverage him for our purposes, not keeping our distance so he won't disrupt our lives, but laying our lives down for him, just like he laid his life down for us.

For some of us, that means turning to him, lifting our eyes, gazing on him for the first time. Not coming toward religion or moral goodness, not towards church, not towards a vague, nice belief of something, but toward Jesus himself. Trusting that he went to the cross for you, for your sin, for your brokenness, for your past, for your questions. None of those things disqualify you. In fact, they're exactly why he came.

And for others of us, maybe. Maybe we've been close for a long time. We've walked with him, studied him, served him. But if we're honest, there are still places in our lives that we're holding back, still areas where we are shaping him instead of allowing him to shape us. And today is an invitation to step out of that middle ground and follow him.

So that way, when we say to him, lord, Lord, he will embrace us and say, welcome and well done, my good and faithful servant. Because the same Jesus who rode into Jerusalem is the same Jesus who Hebrews tells us, for the joy set before him, endured the cross.

Joy?

What kind of joy could possibly come from enduring the cross?

It was you. It was me. The joy of making a way for us to be forgiven. The joy of seeing our sin paid for in full. The joy of restoring what was broken and bringing us back into relationship.

Right? Relationship. Shalom with the Father. The joy of knowing that death would not have the final word for him or for us. Church.

He saw all of it. He saw the cost. He saw the outcome. And for that joy, he went to the cross. So who do you say that he is?

Who do you say that he is? Will you believe that he is? The one that the Bible proclaims is The King of kings and the Lord of Lords. The perfect, lowly, humble servant, sacrificial king?

Or will we force him by our own distorted lens to be something that we can fit in our pocket as a nice, fake, cheap version that only brings us things that don't make us uncomfortable? Who do you say that he is?

If he's the Savior who took our place, there's only one response. Surrender. Full, complete, unconditional surrender. And if you are ready for that kind of surrender today, for the first time or for the next time, we want to invite you to come. We will have our prayer team on either wall.

They'll be ready to receive you, to pray for you, to pray with you. Whatever it is, no shame. Everything laid down for the one who laid down everything for us.

Maybe for you it looks like a prayer of repentance right where you are. Repentance for withholding. Repentance for not allowing him to be seen for who he truly is.

Maybe it looks like laying down a false version of Jesus today and finally making the real Jesus the priority of your life. But whatever it is, please don't walk out of here the same. Because the one who went to the cross for you is not just asking for part of your life. He's asking for all of it. And he is the only one who is worthy of all of it.

For the joy set before him. He endured the cross. He went to the cross. That's where we're going this week. This is why Good Friday is such a significant time for us to be together, to recognize the weight of what he took on on the cross.

And so, please, come be a part of that. 6:30 Friday night. Come be a part of it. Recognize what he's done for us.

We're going to take a turn toward the cross right now with a short song before we go. Go.

And my prayer is that we will see him as he truly is, that we will see what he has done, and we will give up and give in.