( Matthew 27:1-9 ) - [ Deutsch ] - [ Akündigungen512.94 KB ]
1st Advent Sermon held by Bishop Springhardt
Dear congregation,
sometimes when I find something in a book or magazine I want to remember, I fold the top corner and dog-ear the book. In the case of particularly valuable books – or books that have been borrowed – I naturally refrain from doing so. But with everyday books, a dog-ear is possible. I wasn't allowed to do that as a child. School books were not to have even the tiniest dog-ear!
Today I do that every now and then: a dog-ear to remind me to leaf through this again, to remember it. And sometimes it happens that after a long time I pick up a book again and stumble over such a dog-ear.
The first Advent should be dog-eared to mark that something very important is written here: Jesus is coming. He will come - he will move into our world.
The dog-ear of the first Advent reminds us of this promise. Jesus will come - at the end of our days. We're waiting for that. That's why it's always Advent. Not only in December.
But on the Sundays in Advent, the longing for the mystery of God's coming into the world becomes more palpable. The night and the darkness of this world have already progressed and advanced, the day and the coming of God is not far off.
During Advent we wait for salvation and the Redeemer. Our longing for life in abundance for everyone, for lasting peace, for truly better times gets a direction. We open the doors of our hearts and see what we long for - just like the Confirmands showed us the doors to their dream homes.
During Advent we become a great community of hope and longing. We join the crowds of people who stand by the side of the road waiting for the king of honour. He has to come at some point! And while they are still waiting, Jesus is already preparing to enter.
Mathew 21, 1-9: As they approached Jerusalem and came to Bethphage on the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them, “Go to the village ahead of you, and at once you will find a donkey tied there, with her colt by her. Untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, say that the Lord needs them, and he will send them right away.” This took place to fulfil what was spoken through the prophet: “Say to Daughter Zion, ‘See, your king comes to you, gentle and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.” The disciples went and did as Jesus had instructed them. They brought the donkey and the colt and placed their cloaks on them for Jesus to sit on. A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, while others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. The crowds that went ahead of him and those that followed shouted, “Hosanna to the Son of David!” “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” “Hosanna in the highest heaven!”
Festive entrances that have been prepared well in advance are only found at film festivals and glamorous award ceremonies for stars and starlets these days. Then people often line the red carpet all day long waiting to see and cheer for their favourite actor. Instead of drum rolls, the striding Graces are accompanied by a flurry of flashing cameras. Their power is not political, and no one hopes for liberation through them. A red carpet seems to have a pull effect. If you can, stand up and hope for a good view. If you are not there, you can follow the events on the radio or television.
Festive and glamorous entries into Jerusalem happened in those days. Not on a red carpet, because red carpets have only existed since the Middle Ages. But full of pomp and glory. As every year, the Roman imperial governor Pontius Pilate came to Jerusalem from Caesarea Maritima, his seaside residence, to hold his annual entry there.
It was an entry with columns of horses and men in leather and iron. There were flags and trumpets. The entire Roman Imperial array of military power appeared. That was exactly the point. Jerusalem was the hotbed of many a rebellion against the Roman rulers. Here they should see with their own eyes that the entire military force was ready. People should see and understand that any form of resistance was hopeless. Deterrence and demonstrations of power have always been part of military muscle flexing. That hasn't changed to this day.
The people of Jerusalem stood and watched. Some dumb founded, others puzzled or impressed by the colossal array of power. Some certainly with secretly clenched fists, angry at their impotence in the face of this hopeless occupation by the Romans. They had harassed and exploited the Jewish people for almost 70 years and were now more firmly in the saddle than ever. And to top it all, the sadistic governor Pontius Pilate, who converted the Temple Square into a slaughterhouse, randomly butchering innocent people. Right there he appeared on horseback in his shimmering golden armour, with his helmet adorned with feathers and his red cloak. Sleek, victorious, invincible... This entry took place at the west gate, where the road lead from Caesarea to Jerusalem.
On the other side of the city, at the east gate, where the road enters the city from the north, there was another entrance on that sunny spring day. This entry inspired a faint hope in many Jewish hearts among peasants and slaves and other small people from the poorest population. A prophet from Galilee had scheduled his own entry for this very day. And what an entrance compared to the Roman one at the other end of town!
This strange and remarkable man made his entry into the city all alone, riding a donkey. Just as the prophet Zechariah prophesied: Behold, your true king will come to you, meek, riding on a donkey. Completely calm and unexcited, with that inner peace and serenity that is more impressive than any posturing. Imperturbable and determined, he sits on his donkey in a simple robe, devoid of any finery, let alone weapons. He is sitting there on the donkey that Zechariah was talking about. In so doing he certainly denies the other entry into Jerusalem any significance.
This is not a loud and raging battle of systems. No escalation of violence like we've seen in the Ukraine for months. No military parades like in Beijing and North Korea. No, plain and simple he is moving in, the king of honours. Not on the high horse or war horse, but on a donkey. Just as Zechariah prophesied. Also, the cheering of the crowd is done in unadorned fashion, spontaneously and honestly. No shouting of hired applauders. They scatter palm leaves on his path and lay out their clothes. Instead of the glamorous red carpet they prepare a path with what's closest to them, their brightly coloured clothes - as colourful and diverse as they themselves, awaiting this very different king.
On the first Advent we are also on the side of the road. We join in the rejoicing of the people of Jerusalem. We sing with them: Daughter Zion, rejoice - your king is coming to you. Hosanna, Hail, son of David!
Our hopes are also given a name. That which troubles our hopes will not have the last word. Not in the long run. But we're not there yet. With the entry of Jesus into Jerusalem, the longed-for kingdom of peace has not yet dawned. We're still waiting. Only a few days later the "Hosanna" died away in Jerusalem - and the crowd could be heard shouting: "Crucify him!" Advent and Passiontide are very closely related. The child in the manger and the man on the cross belong together. God becomes man, with all the consequences.
Humanity moves into our world - and at the same time it comes to light what miserable creatures we sometimes are. We long for a just world and for peace - and even within our manageable lives we fail to live together peacefully and with open minds. Today we cry ‘hosanna’ and tomorrow ‘crucify him!’ - Sometimes only quietly on the inside, but the voice is there.
This knowledge is as sober as the Advent season is simple. Traditionally, Advent, like Passiontide, is a time of penitence and preparation. Very few of us will fast during Advent, but for some, certain biscuits will have to wait until Christmas. The Advent season is a time of reflection on the essentials and a time of secret preparations for Christmas and the coming of God into the world. It is also the time when simplicity still has a chance. The magic and anticipation of what is to come lies in the preparations. That was the case at the Christmas market yesterday, it's the same with the preparations for Christmas and much more with a view to the goal of our hopes when the gates open to what is promised to us.
For me, this becomes particularly clear with the Advent wreath. Instead of all the glitter and colourful lighting, this wreath is decorated with candles. Almost everywhere else, wax candles have given way to electric candles. Because it's more practical. And safer. Because it fits better into our time, where the Christmas lights are on all the time, just on the side. As background.
Only on the Advent wreath are wax candles holding strong. Nobody would think of replacing them with electric ones. The wreath speaks a different language. It's not an accompaniment, it's an interruption. Light a candle for at least a few minutes a day, let your thoughts drift and be open to the new that is coming. Keeping yourself open to the living God, of whom the green branches remind us. The candles slow down life, they do not tolerate hectic. Where things get hectic, the candles go out or fall over.
The eternal hamster wheel of everyday life is interrupted in Advent - by the incidence of divine light into our time. Through the waiting and the longing that grips us anew every year during this time, through the goal we are moving towards, namely the promise that God will become man, that he will turn to us and move into this world. Simple, in a poor stable and on a humble donkey. Without punk and splendour, without glitter and glamour. Still and quiet. The first Advent reminds us of this promise.
Let us dog-ear this day and this promise that we shall not forget it. And that we will be ready to receive him.
Let’s remember this day on which we are promised that the night has advanced, and the day is not far off. This is the peace of God, which is higher than all our understanding.
May He guard our hearts and minds, in Christ Jesus. Amen