Sheryl Brady - The Discipline of Freedom

On your way down to your seat, hit somebody and tell them it’s the discipline of freedom, the discipline of freedom. Now, I love this passage and I’ve preached from it a gazillion times, but I love to preach about it on Palm Sunday. Tell somebody around you, «You know today is Palm Sunday, right?» Well, you said more than that! It is Palm Sunday, and it commemorates the day that Jesus came riding into Jerusalem on a colt. As he did so, crowds from everywhere began to line the road with palm branches, praise, and celebration because they were there to celebrate their Messiah. For others, when they think of Palm Sunday, it reminds them that if today is Palm Sunday, then next Sunday is Easter. That’s what it means to them: Palm Sunday is the Sunday before Easter. For some people, it reminds them, «Oh Lord, I’ve got to get the eggs colored! I’ve got to get the Easter baskets bought!» And I’m not mad at you about Easter baskets; I’m not here to preach on that. I have to make sure that all the kids have new outfits to wear to church on Sunday. For us, I grew up believing that on Easter we could start wearing white, okay? You couldn’t wear white before Easter! People would say, «Oh, that’s a no-no! You’re breaking protocol to do that.» However, most of us who have been walking with the Lord for any length of time understand that Palm Sunday is the first day in the last week of Jesus’s life here on Earth, and this week is very important. It’s important because this week changes history. This week is what many will call Passion Week; it’s what we will call Holy Week. But it could also be known as one of the most stressful weeks in the life of Jesus. Now, I know it’s hard to imagine Jesus and the word «stressful» in the same sentence, but Jesus endured a lot of stress in this final week of his life. What we must remember about Jesus is that he is divine enough to redeem us, but he is human enough to relate to us. Therefore, he knows what stress feels like; he knows what it is like to feel the fire burn around him. He knows what it’s like to feel the pressure caving in, and he knows what it’s like to feel turbulence in turbulent times. The last week of his life on Earth actually began with a parade; we call it the triumphal entry. We call it the triumphal delivery or the Passover parade. But this right here was no ordinary parade. Jesus knows that this is the beginning of the end for his life on Earth. He knew he was on an assignment; he knew he had been called to bridge the gap. What gap, you might say? The gap between sinful man and a holy God. He knew it was upon him to bridge the gap that had separated the two. Everything was falling into place; it was unfolding just as the prophets began prophesying. The crowds are gathering, and the curtain is rising as Jesus is about to walk across history’s stage for the last time, and the final scenes of his earthly life have begun to play out. He is on his way to Jerusalem. Going to Jerusalem in this moment is really a dangerous thing to do. There are a lot of people in Jerusalem who hated him; there are a lot of people in Jerusalem who wanted him dead. His own men argued with him about the wisdom of this trip; «Are you sure, sir, that we need to go to Jerusalem?» But it’s too late, because the Bible said that he set his face toward Jerusalem. That meant no more distractions; that meant no more miracles, no more turning water into wine, no more raising the dead, no more healing those who were sick. He had set his face toward Jerusalem; he was determined to go and do what the Father had assigned him to do. So he went. He went despite the danger; he went deliberately, intentionally; he went humbly. He went disarming; he didn’t come in on a horse; he came in on a donkey. He went undaunted by the crowds, but he went anyway. He is dealing with a symphony of emotions, but in the middle of it all, he held his head high and he went anyway. Those who were with him, his team, were watching him very closely. They had never seen him under this much pressure, this much stress before, so they would lock eyes with him. They watched his facial expressions; they observed how courageous he was. But they were not watching, observing, or beholding a mere man; they were beholding the Word of God, yes! Because in the beginning was the Word; the Word was with God, and the Word was God. All things were made by him, and without him was not anything made that was made. In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shined in darkness, and darkness comprehended it not. So how in the world could this one man who was in the world deal with everything that the world was taking him through? It was incomprehensible. Oh, but we’re not looking at just any man in the world; we are looking at the man who made the entire world that he is in. And guess what? Yet the world knew him not; they didn’t know him. And his disciples were watching it all go down. No disciple wants to watch their leader suffer, and yet that is…