What a week of extremes that was! Jesus came into Jerusalem with the people shouting, "Hosanna -- Save us!" He left the city only a few days later with people shouting, "Crucify him!" He came into town riding a donkey and left treated like one -- driven with whips to carry the wood on which he'd be killed. At the beginning of the week all his admirers jostled to get as close to him as they could. At the end of the week they couldn't put enough distance between themselves and him. At the beginning of the week people waved palm branches to cheer Him. At the end of the week they flogged him with whips and reeds. At the beginning of the week as He entered Jerusalem He wept with compassion for its people. At the end, as he left, he wept in pain as those same people laughed at His passion. At the beginning they wanted to hoist Him on their shoulders to make Him their king. In the end they hoisted Him on a cross as a pretender to the throne.

The whole thing must have seemed like a tragic joke to the casual observer -- say to a Roman soldier standing guard at his post by the city gates. In Rome he'd seen what real parades were like -- where they knew how to do things right. The king or conquering hero would ride through the streets of Rome on a gilded chariot pulled by mighty stallions - standing head and shoulders above his legions -- with armor shining as they carried the banners of their conquered enemies. Before him went the spoils of war - the treasures of conquered foes and the tattered officers of their defeated armies - now slaves -- bound in chains. He'd step from his chariot to ascend to the throne where he'd take his seat or crowned with laurels of victory.

The two parades he witnessed this week were nothing like that. At the beginning of the week the soldier would have heard the citizens of Jerusalem cheer at the arrival of their hero or king or whatever he was, as he waddled through the gates of the city on a jackass -- surrounded by a motley crowd of rabble -- rubes, peasants, the halt and the lame. At the end of the week, that same guard would have seen their hero staggering out adorned with a crown of thorns on his head -- beaten, bruised, and bleeding. "What a joke! What a tragic joke." he must have thought to himself -- perhaps even chuckling and shaking his head.

Medieval Christians grasped the parody of it. That's why it wasn't uncommon; back then, to portray Jesus as a clown -- the clown of God. And that's also why the 20th century rock operas -- Godspell and Jesus Christ Superstar -- portrayed Jesus as a clown, as well, smiling through tears. John's Gospel called Jesus, "The Word of God by whom all things were made." If that was true, then, the Creator of the universe chose to become one of us, and, incognito, made Himself completely vulnerable -- allowing His creatures to do with Him whatever we wished. In Jesus, God made Himself a clown for us. How foolish was that? And why in the world would God have done it? We're told that it was all done for love --that God, in Christ, became a fool for love. That's why he subjected Himself to those parodies of triumph and tragedy. He allowed us to do whatever we wanted to Him out of love for us -- to come along side us to save the very creatures that wanted to kill him. In our epistle reading there's a hymn; it's called the "kenotic" hymn - from the Greek word kenosis, which meant to empty oneself of power. This is what it says: "Have the mind of Christ, who though He was God, thought equality with God not something to be retained, but emptied Himself, taking on the form of a servant instead." You see, Christ, our king, became servant to His own creatures and that's what made Him a fool -- love.

There's a Jewish story about a homely man, a hunchback, who loved a beautiful young woman. Eventually, he mustered the courage to ask her father for her hand in marriage. The father told him that if it were up to him he'd gladly give his permission, but that, given his deformity, his daughter would not want to marry him. The hunchback simply asked to speak with the woman he loved. When the hunchback and the beautiful young woman were alone she couldn't even look at the hunchback because she thought him so ugly. The hunchback told her this: "I know that I'm ugly, but no one could love you as much as I do. I've always loved you. Before we were born, when God was giving us our bodies. I saw that you were supposed to get this hunchback, but my love for you couldn't let that happen. And so I asked God if He'd give me the hunchback instead." That's the kind of love that Christ had for us and why he became a fool for us -- our servant.

He calls us to join Him -- to put aside our aspirations for personal gain and glory - to become clowns too, like Him. Following Him means acting foolishly, our selves, by serving others instead of our selves alone - out of love and devotion to Him. As we see these palms in our homes let's remember that they stand for a God who became a fool for love of this world - for a servant king. Let's remember, too, that following Him involves putting aside our own aspirations for personal gain and pride -- to act foolishly for Christ -- fools for the love of God - fools, who serve others as our king has served us. Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!