Welcome/Call to Worship
Good morning! I’m Pastor Ashley Dargai To those here in the sanctuary and those joining us online: we are so glad you’re here!
This morning, we will sing songs of worship, pray together, hear from scripture and one another, as we move toward the pinnacle of our service: the table of our Lord, where we will take the bread and drink the cup in remembrance of our most Gracious Host, Jesus. The purpose of our time together each Sunday is to bring our hearts closer to the heart of God, so I invite you to participate in as much or as little in our prepared liturgy as your spirit is willing.
We welcome all sounds and smells from the youngest to the oldest among us. The Kids Corner is in the back for anyone who needs to move around and play to worship God this morning. We know that the energy and spirit of children can be different than adults and we consider that reality a gift.
There are visitor cards in the pew in front of you—if you arrived during the pandemic or later, of if you have moved and have not updated your info with the church, please fill it out and drop it in the offering plate when it goes by later in worship.
A couple of announcements before we begin:
We invite you to Sunday School at 10 AM every week. There’s classes that meet in the Seekers room and the Fellowship Hall. There is also a children and youth class that meets in the parlor.
After service, we will have our Easter egg hunt! You’ll exit these back doors and go to the grass to the left.
This Thursday is our Maundy Thursday event—we’ll host a food drive for our Little Free Pantry in the courtyard, DMM will grill hot dogs, and the ukuleles will lead us in a singalong. And this year, First UMC Azle will join us. Food will be served at 6:30 in the courtyard.
And then we’ll join with First UMC of Azle down the road for Good Friday at 7 pm in their sanctuary.
Next week, we will have a special Easter sunrise service in the Narthex at 6:30 AM and then our 11 AM service here in the sanctuary. You are also invited to purchase Easter lilies for the sanctuary. There is an order form in your bulletin.
Our first mailing for the Drive for Compassion golf tournament will be April 18 at 9 am in the Fellowship Hall. If you’d like to help with the mailing, join us that morning!
Tomorrow morning is Eugene Wadsworth’s memorial service at 10 AM here at ACC with a reception to follow.
To keep up with all the life we live together here at Azle Christian Church, make sure you follow us on Facebook, Instagram, and TikTok. Subscribe to our weekly e-blast and monthly newsletter on our website.
We continue our worship series this morning: Full to the Brim: An Expansive Lent. This morning, we enter Jerusalem with Jesus in celebration.
For our next song, after we pray, we will participate in the parade of the palms. We invite everyone who is willing to exit on the sides and move to the back to pick up a palm. We’ll wave the palm as we move up the center aisle and then place it at the alter with the help of a deacon. You will return to your seats through the side.
Let’s pray to turn our hearts toward God for this hour.
Spirit of truth, open to us the scriptures, speaking your holy word through song, through the bread and cup, and through offering ourselves, and meet us here today in the living Christ. Amen.
Litany of Faith
One: Give thanks to the LORD, who is good, whose mercy endures forever.
All: Let Israel now proclaim, “The mercy of the LORD endures forever.”
One: Open for me the gates of righteousness; I will enter them; I will offer thanks to the LORD.
All: “This is the gate of the LORD; those who are righteous may enter.
One: I will give thanks to you, for you answered me and have become my salvation.
All: The same stone which the builders rejected has become the chief cornerstone. This is the Lord’s doing, and it is marvelous in our eyes.
(From Psalm 118)
Pastoral Prayer
The Lord be with you.
This morning we will engage our bodies in prayer as well as our hearts. We will start in a posture, and I will let you know when to change posture. As always, please engage as much or as little as your spirit is willing.
We will begin with the ASL sign for applause to signify celebration.
Join me in prayer.
Holy God,
Sometimes life feels like a parade rushing by us
As we stand on the sidelines and try not to miss it.
There are hundreds of things that catch our eye,
But the thing we fear missing the most is you.
We confess that we more than the endless litany of to-do lists and errands, meal prep and alarm clocks, deadlines and due dates.
We want more than certainty that drowns out curiosity.
We want more than fear that leads to silos and violence.
Now church, move your hands into a traditional posture of prayer.
We want a life that moves in a steady cadence of alleluias, a life hemmed in by hope, a life fragranced by good news and mercy and laughter.
So when we feel lost in the noise and the relentless demand for our attention, may Your Spirit clear the air around us. When we are afflicted with compassion fatigue and stress and self-doubt and exhaustion, show us the way to the life you long for us.
May we listen closely to the rhythms of the earth, how the trees sway, how the flowers bloom, how the waves lap, how the stones cry out, and may we know that we have not missed You. You are right here.
God, we are here. We are trying to pay attention.
Now church, for our final posture, I invite you to move your hands to your heart in a posture of devotion.
Gratefully, we ask all of this in the name of our brother and redeemer Jesus, who taught us to pray…
Our Father, who art in heaven
Hallowed be Thy name
Thy Kingdom come
Thy will be done
On earth as it is in heaven
Give us this day our daily bread
And forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors
And lead us not into temptation
But deliver us from evil
For thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory, forever.
Amen.
Sermon
Luke 19:28-40
28 After he had said this, he went on ahead, going up to Jerusalem.
29 When he had come near Bethphage and Bethany, at the place called the Mount of Olives, he sent two of the disciples, 30 saying, “Go into the village ahead of you, and as you enter it you will find tied there a colt that has never been ridden. Untie it and bring it here. 31 If anyone asks you, ‘Why are you untying it?’ just say this, ‘The Lord needs it.’” 32 So those who were sent departed and found it as he had told them. 33 As they were untying the colt, its owners asked them, “Why are you untying the colt?” 34 They said, “The Lord needs it.”
35 Then they brought it to Jesus; and after throwing their cloaks on the colt, they set Jesus on it. 36 As he rode along, people kept spreading their cloaks on the road. 37 As he was now approaching the path down from the Mount of Olives, the whole multitude of the disciples began to praise God joyfully with a loud voice for all the deeds of power that they had seen, 38 saying,
“Blessed is the king
who comes in the name of the Lord!
Peace in heaven,
and glory in the highest heaven!”
39 Some of the religious leaders in the crowd said to him, “Teacher, order your disciples to stop.” 40 He answered, “I tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout out.”
This is the word of God for the people of God. Thanks be to God.
Can I tell you a secret? I believe in ghosts.
And I’m not trying to make a preacher joke and be like, “The Holy Ghost!”
No, I actually believe in supernatural activity. The kind that makes the hair stand up on the back of your neck, goosebumps prickle your arms, your lungs to unconsciously hold your breath.
And I share this not because I want to make you all believers, too. Believe what you want to believe about how life lingers. All are welcome at this spooky table. But I think this secret is relevant to today’s text.
Maybe I should back up a little bit.
I have been auditing a class at Brite Divinity School this spring called Soul Care in the Midst of Climate Crisis. We’re talking about how to care for souls—ours and our parishioners’—in the midst of a rapidly changing environment and all that comes with it—natural disasters, extreme weather, rising death tolls, and the accompanying anxiety and dread. It’s been fun!
And I think what I’m about to say will not be surprising to those of you who garden and farm. But there has been a lot of discussion about the earth speaking to us. And not really so much in a woo woo way, but that nature is always in conversation with us. The accelerating extinctions of animal and bug species due to deforestation, warming weather, and flooding, the overworked soil unable to produce one more crop, the increasingly extreme storms, concerning volcanic activity—this is all the earth crying out, “Hosanna!”
And what I mean is that the word “hosanna” means “save us.” It’s what the people cried out in the procession into Jerusalem, though it’s not included in Luke’s account, the one we read today. It was a moment filled with possibility. The thought of what might be exhilarated all who followed Jesus. Might this be the one who would deliver them from the Romans? Might this be the Messiah who would usher in the blessing of the age to come and the return of all the children of God who had been scattered abroad?
You see, every year during Passover—the Jewish festival that swelled Jerusalem’s population from its usual 50,000 to 200,000—the Roman governor of Judea would ride up to Jerusalem from his beach house in the west. He would come in all of his imperial majesty to remind the Jewish pilgrims that Rome demanded their complete loyalty, obedience, and submission. The Jewish people could commemorate their ancient victory against Egypt and slavery if they wanted to. But if they tried any funny business, any real resistance, they would be obliterated without a second thought.
And that particular Passover week, there were two processions. From the west came Pilate, the Roman governor of Judea, draped in the gaudy glory of imperial power: horses, chariots, and gleaming armor. He moved in with the Roman army at the beginning of Passover week to make sure nothing got out of hand.
And from the east came another procession, the one we mimicked today, a commoner’s procession: Jesus in an ordinary robe riding on a young donkey
The people cried out: hosanna, save us!
But while it was a moment filled with possibility, the atmosphere charged with the memory of deliverance, it was a very fragile possibility. Their last hope was riding on a borrowed donkey.
If ever there were a day on the liturgical calendar that represented the dissonance in our faith—the disappointed expectations—it’s Palm Sunday. More than any other holy day, this festive, ominous, and complicated day of palm fronds and hosannas warn us of the paradox at the heart of our faith: God on a donkey. Dying to live. A suffering king. Good Friday.
And at the end of our reading this morning, talking rocks.
You see, the people wanted a military king. They wanted might and power. They wanted someone to show Rome who’s boss. They sang, “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest heaven!” No more of this Pax Romana that seeks to squelch any rise of discontent. No, what they were all crying out for is a Pax Hosanna.
And the religious leaders, God love ‘em, knew how dangerous this parade was. This is the very thing that Pilate had come to make sure didn’t happen. And they told Jesus to get his people to cut it out. But Jesus said, “If they were silent, the rocks would cry out.”
Which brings me back to ghosts.
Where was I? Oh yes, the earth speaking to us.
Okay, I have a tiny science lesson for you this morning. For those of us humans who hear with our ears, there is a threshold of sound we can hear. It is measured by hertz, which measures the frequency of sound, the number of vibrations per second. And that typical threshold is 20 hertz. Anything below that, we cannot hear with our ears.
But that doesn’t mean that sound is not occurring below 20 hertz or that we cannot register it—it simply means that we must listen in a different way.
The sound below 20 hertz is called infrasound. This kind of sound can sometimes be felt in our body. We can feel its reverberations in our literal, beating heart.
Think about the vibrations you have felt if you’ve been near a wind turbine or subwoofer or an explosion. There’s a reverberation in your body that is a registering of infrasound—a sound you’re not picking up with your ear.
Animals use infrasound to communicate. Whales, elephants, hippopotamuses. The purr of a tiger.
But do you know what else uses this infrasonic sound, this sound that is below 20 hertz and cannot be heard by the human ear but perhaps felt? The earth. Avalanches. Volcanic eruptions. Earthquakes. Icebergs. The earth makes sounds right before a natural event.
The stones are literally crying out.
Of course, Jesus didn’t know this. He was likely not referring to infrasound. He’s more of a metaphor guy.
But the increase of infrasonic sounds is the earth literally crying out in response to climate change. And what we’ve discussed in my class is how do we respond to the cry of creation? How do we join our cries as created creatures of God with non-human creation? Are we all singing the same hosanna together?
We can guess what the Judean people meant when they cried hosanna, save us! They wanted a Messiah who could beat Rome and reestablish Judean sovereignty in some form.
But here’s the thing. A cry for one military might to supplant another is still suffering under the delusion of empire. We know we’re supposed to love the God-on-a-dokey who overturns all our expectations of what divinity should look and act like. In theory, we do love this God. But in practice, we’re often just like the first people who waved palm fronds and laid their coats on the street. We train our eyes on the horizon and hold out hope for a real king.
But what are the stones crying out for? What kind of hope do they hold?
It’s hard to ask that question and even harder to answer it. The prognosis of the climate is not great. It’s devastating, actually. This is the general assessment of scientists around the world.
And the rocks crying out, especially at the beginning of the holiest week with the hardest days ahead, have got me asking very very reluctantly, how many deaths lie waiting around the corner? How many sorrows, disappointments, farewells, and jagged endings must we face before resurrection comes home to stay?
It’s hard to imagine and impossible to bear it.
But perhaps the literal groan of creation can remind us that if anything in this Christian story is true, then it’s this: Jesus will not leave us alone. There is no death we will die, small or big, literal or figurative, that Jesus will not hold in his crucified arms.
Which brings me back to ghosts, finally.
This infrasound has been studied at length by acoustic scientists. And one study conducted in England found that infrasound can invoke feelings of both awe and anxiety. Because it’s a sound that cannot be consciously perceived, it can make people feel like there is a presence, like something vaguely spooky is happening.
Now who’s to say something spooky is not happening? Certainly not me.
But I wonder if rocks crying out help invoke the unsettling of this day. The feeling that something is in the air, as if it were charged with electricity.
I wonder if the rocks might be saying, “Hosanna, save us” as a way to invite us into the paradox of our faith over and over again. God on a donkey. Dying to live. A suffering king. A Good Friday.
Save us from our delusions. Save us from our petty devotions. Save us from our self-destruction. Save us, save us, save us.
And Jesus says, “I will. By continuing to move toward the cross. Come with me. Life will linger no matter what death does to it. Just watch.” Hosanna. Amen.
Stewardship Moment
There are many ways to support and resource the ministries of Azle Christian Church: Venmo, giving online, or the offering plate. I also invite you to bring nonperishable items for our Little Free Pantry. The collection shelves for the pantry are in the Fellowship Hall right outside the kitchen.
The deacons are going to hand these plates over during our final song, starting at the front row and they just to need make their way to the back where a deacon will collect them. You can drop your offering, an “I gave online card,” or an information card.
Invitation
If you’d like to become a member of this faith community, or if you’d like to become a disciple of Jesus, please talk with me after service or sometime this week.
Benediction:
Please rise in body or spirit for our benediction, the final song, and the Doxology.
May we trust that even when we are silent,
Even when we are scared,
Even when we miss the moment,
Even when we choose to speak and say the wrong thing—
We belong to God.
There is nothing said or unsaid, done or undone that can undo that, so may we rest in this good news:
We are forgiven. We are known.
We belong to God, this day and every day.
Amen.