Be inspired.
You can have it all.

New horizons.
Easy options.
The sky’s the limit.

One $20 savings certificate for every $100 you spend.
The magic of Macy’s.

These words, printed amongst beautiful blue skies and fluffy white clouds. are the promises of Macy’s latest marketing campaign

Scanning the fine print I noticed that the offer to “have it all” excludes the following: shoes, handbags, and sportswear, cosmetics, fragrances, all watches, electronics, furniture, mattresses, and rugs.

Well—-you can almost have it all.

More and more college students are beginning to believe that they, too, can have it all. Excellent grades, extracurricular involvement, and plenty of time to party.

They now borrow or buy their friends prescriptions of Adderall to pull all-nighters, read through Crime and Punishment in one sitting, or score higher on their final exams.

A cocktail of amphetamines Adderall increases mental processing and decreases fatigue. Often called a cognitive steroid it can make people better at whatever it is they’re doing.

Students popping Adderall, show up at university health centers with withdrawal symptoms, saying: “I’ve built my whole GPA on this. How can I stop?”

A talented wife, three teenage daughters, the governorship of New York, Elliot Spitzer’s idols convinced him that he could have it all.

The small gods we bow down to make us feel important, as if we stand above the crowd. Yet in our text this morning we have nowhere to go except into the crowd into the wild mobs of people throwing down their coats, shouting hosannas and waving their palm branches.

No magic of Macy’s in this crowded scene. Instead of gold and silver, servants and a strong military, Jesus requests a little-respected beast, a donkey, for his entry into Jerusalem. It would almost be like the president of the United States riding into Baghdad on a bicycle.

Jesus sent the disciples to find a particular donkey, and just what to say when they found it: “Just tell the owner, ‘The Lord needs it.’” And there won’t be any problems.

It becomes clear that this parade was not a spur-of-the-moment thing. Jesus’ coming into Jerusalem was no accident or spontaneous event. This was planned, down to the very details.

Now, Matthew tells us that the entire city was in turmoil. English words are entirely too mild here. The Greek word is seismos, from which we get “seismic.” It’s often used in reference to violent changes in the weather or earthquakes. In other words, Jesus rides into Jerusalem and the whole city shakes.

Unnerved, people were asking, “What is going on here? Who is this?”

The ones in-the-know shouted, “This is the prophet Jesus, the one from Nazareth in Galilee.”

Some in the crowd have seen Jesus before. For three years now, he has been turning things upside down, combing the countryside, calling disciples, playing with parables, casting out demons and even raising the dead.

For three years now, he has been shaking things up with some pretty crazy ideas of how things should be.

Some folks in the crowd already know the strange power of Jesus. They don’t need any convincing This earth shaking entrance is all celebration.

Others, however, perhaps some of us, may be scratching their heads, wondering if a man who insists on being last can really save the world.

When Jesus says, “Do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink.” Our idols whisper: “No one can really live that way.”

When Jesus teaches, “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” Our idols tell us this war on terror is an exception to the rule.

When Jesus warns, “For what will it profit you to gain the whole world but forfeit your life?” Our idols scream into our ears, “The economy is depending upon you.”

Does this guy know what he’s doing? The magic of Macy’s seems like a much better deal.

The brands we wear and the cars we drive are far more alluring than this carpenter who gets his power from hanging out with the lost and the lonely, the poor and the broken.

Some people, perhaps some of us, are scratching their heads, wondering whether this guy riding into Jerusalem, can really answer the hosanna cries of “Save us!”

We cling to our idols and wonder about this Jesus of Nazareth.

In one of Krzysztof Kielowski’s films we have been watching through Lent a university professor trusts in the infallibility of his computer and instructs his young son, Pavel, in its many clever uses.

The household computer can unlock the front door and turn on the bathroom faucet and remember this is 1980’s Warsaw The father and son depend upon it for accurate answers to all kinds of questions.

Anxious to try out a new pair of ice skates, the two consult the computer to calculate the thickness of the ice on a nearby pond.

Tragically, the computer cannot account for a freak thaw. One afternoon after school, Pavel goes to try out his new skates and falls through the ice. The professor comes home to find his young son has drowned in the icy waters. The computer failed them both.

We worship our little gods until nothing more than the real God, capital G, will do.

Idols provide us the certitude we crave in an uncertain world. God provides life in all its messiness. Just watch, God seems to say, you will know me when you encounter me… You will see who I am… when the truth is told the enemy is embraced, the cross is beared.

Idols promise us power God’s interested in the ones without any power. We must lose our lives in order to have life. Just as Jesus will do this coming week.

In the week to come, Jesus will feel the pain of wood and nails; but more than this he will feel the weight of all the evil all the malice all the pettiness all the sin of the world heaped upon his shoulders.

He will not throw off that weight, though he could.

Jesus chose this parade knowing full well who was in the crowd. You and I, our hearts divided, struggling with his gospel and yearning for the magic of Macy’s. We want to have it all.

Anyone else would have turned around, headed in the opposite direction. But Jesus didn’t. You would think knowing our wishy-washiness, he would have turned his donkey back to the peaceful countryside, but he didn’t.

Before the week is out, Jesus will cleanse the temple, Judas will sell his soul for thirty pieces of silver, the disciples will get one last dinner, the fickle crowds will demand blood, and Pilate will hand Jesus over for execution.

But Jesus will not give back the sin of the world, he will take it away… into death, into hell, so that he can lead us into new life.

Some of the crowds know what they’re getting themselves into. Others, perhaps some of us, are scratching their heads wondering where such wild ideas will lead to; yearning, instead, for the magical life that Macy’s dangles in front of us.

And then... we show up at this Palm Sunday parade
waving our palm branches
shouting our hosannas
grappling with the gospel
clinging to our little gods.

The cross, the empty tomb, the resurrection of God’s son make no sense in the eyes of the world. And yet that is the week ahead...

No carved gods of any size, shape, or form whether of things that fly or walk or swim. Don’t bow down to them and don’t serve them because I am God, your God. No other gods, only me.