Our celebrations seemed to be more powerful
for all that.

Our focus might have been on a threat from outside,
but no one can doubt
that the strength of this people
lies not in its wealth, as many think.
Rather our strength derives
from the heart of its people.

Today's readings are about rightness of heart in trying times

Our first reading from Zechariah is a case in point.
This is a portion of that book which
was not written by the prophet of that name at all,
but rather it is one of three oracles
from a much later time:
the time a couple of hundred years before Jesus,
when the Seleucid empire held hegemony
over Syria and much of the Middle East.

Seleucus and Ptolemy were generals of
Alexander the Great
who romped through this region in 301 BC,
and moved on.

After he died, these two generals fought over
Egypt and the Middle East
until in 198 BC, the Seleucid empire
took control of Palestine.

The plight of the people of Judah went from bad to worse
and even their temple was profaned by Antiochus IV.

The people were often enslaved or deported,
and their structures of society destroyed.

Whole towns were massacred to keep order.
One of these sites was visited several years ago
by members of St. James.
It was known as Idumea,
we now call Tel Marisha.

There, the inhabitants tore down their nice houses
and dumped all their goods into the old cisterns
under their town
and disappeared,
rather than submit to Antiochus.
It was a dark time,
with terror lurking, day and night.

To these people, today's first reading was proclaimed.
It was an oracle of hope
to a devastated, scattered people.

"Shout aloud, O Daughter of Jerusalem,
for your king comes, triumphant and victorious,
humble, and riding on a donkey."

Such is an absurd image, don't you think?
A King, riding on a donkey, indeed.

Yet, it is an image
which indicates that the people of Judah
will not be saved by war stallions or force of arms,

but they will be saved, restored, and richly blessed
by the God who comes with neither of those things,
for he has no need of them.

He shall command peace to all the nations,
and your prisoners shall be set free;
and all will return to the Holy City
and experience the richness of life in God.

Return to your stronghold
O Prisoners of Hope,
for God has set you free.

This text
about an arrival on a donkey
to set Jerusalem free
certainly came to Jesus 200 years later,
during the Roman occupation.

It is where he got the idea of riding into the holy city
on that donkey.

It was a parody of a triumph,
- a procession of a victorious Roman Caesar;

yet, a parody with the deep message
that God, indeed, will overthrow oppression,
greed, and lust for power,

and will do so, not by the sword,
but by changing the human heart.

Jesus brings it home for us
in today's Gospel,
and we are not too sure about it;
for this is a message which
we haven't yet accepted.

The Pharisees of Jesus' time debated hard,
trying to work out God's law with their minds.

It is not that complicated, says Jesus.

Christianity developed in the lands of the Greeks,
in the area we now call Turkey.
The Greeks loved near-violent theological discourse.

It is not that complicated, says Jesus.

And, to top all of that, we are a modern, scientific people
following in the pattern of the Great Awakening
and the Renascence.

We idolize our intellect,
and that leads us into an expectation
that salvation comes from the activity of the mind,
and that, somehow, we haven't yet figured it out,
and that we need to listen to smarter people
or work harder to understand.

It is not that complicated, says Jesus.

In fact, in today's Gospel reading,
Jesus says that infants
know better than the wise and the intelligent.

We become God-like
not in the exercise of the intellect
or the acquisition and exercise of power,
but, rather, in rightness of heart.

The people of the age of the Seleucids
in the first reading
expected that, if they were diligent upholders of
the minutia of their religious law,
God would choose them over their enemies,
and come and slaughter them.

They defined oppression
as that which those guys over there
were doing to them.
Their problems were all the fault of the other guy.

Jesus shifts the focus with that donkey
to a very different venue.

We need first to deal with the oppression within, he says -
- the oppression which comes from allowing the world
and terror
to define and distort our humanity.

Jesus is saying,
I don't care about the occupying Roman Army;
I care about you,
and the fact that you have gotten yourself
all twisted up inside.

You no longer know who you are
and you feel beaten down, oppressed, diminished,
angry, and vengeful.

You are destroying yourself.
That is a self-imposed yoke wearing you down.

Rather, take for yourselves
my yoke, and learn from me.

Since we know the whole story
of Jesus' life,
one might be tempted to decline this generous offer.

We know that the world rejected Jesus
and hung him out to die.
Why would we want anything to do with his yoke?

We, quite understandably,
equate Jesus' yoke with the cross of his death
and want none of it.

But, the cross is not Jesus' yoke;
it is the world's yoke hung on Jesus.

Again, the contrast is made,
and it is not hard to understand.

Wooden shafts carved to fit one's neck and shoulders
were universally used in Jesus' day, and even now,
for carrying heavy loads, such as precious water.

Using a yoke that didn't fit
was, and is, very painful.

With a yoke properly fitted, however,
a man or woman could carry things very comfortably.
Jesus' meaning is
that his yoke is that for which we were designed.

It is for the faithful, the perfect match.

To recognize that we were created
in the perfect mold of the Christ of God
is to be saved from our distortions,
pain, and broken-ness
and to experience fulfillment of
and complementarity with God.

Take my yoke upon you,
for I am gentle and humble in heart,
and you will find rest for your souls.

There is an ancient Jewish story
about a Rabbi who had one day
been visited in the marketplace
by the prophet, Elijah.

As he looked around with the prophet,
the man saw teachers of the religious law
holding forth in complex sentences
that even they couldn't have understood.

Merchants were selling goods
with short weights on their scales.

Disputes were breaking out
all around the market place.

Rich people walked around to be seen
in the newest fashions.

The rabbi shook his head
and turned to Elijah
and asked if anyone in that market place
was to share in the blessedness
of the life to come.

Elijah looked sadly around.
None I see here, he replied,
or there,
no, no, not there either.

But, finally, he pointed to two smiling people
and said,
Those two will join in the life to come.

The Rabbi had to learn why this might be so
for these two and not the others,
so he went to them and asked them
what they were about
there in the market place,
talking and smiling as they were.

We are 'merry makers,' they said.
When we see anyone who is downcast
we cheer them up.
When we see two people quarreling
we tell them of God's love.

Brothers and Sisters,
theology is done, not in the head,
but in the heart.

God is known, not in the head,
but in the heart.

The Gospel lives and functions not in the head,
but in the heart.

The Word of God lives in the heart
and true humanity is stirred.

Our yoke and our calling to be Christ to one another
comes from that encounter.

It is there that our Savior frees us
from our aquired distortions
and makes us perfect.

Return to your stronghold
O prisoners of hope,
for God has set you free.