4/7/63

Scripture: John 12: 12-16; 20-26.

During this Lenten season, I have been asking you to think with me about some of the characteristics of Jesus as seen in his person and practice; for they throw light on possibilities in our own persons and practice. We considered his joy, and ours. We thought of the magnanimity of the Master, and what that suggests to us. We examined evidences of his anger and tried to see what kind of indignation is justified, even demanded, in us. And then we remembered his great loyalty to his cause and asked ourselves what we propose to stand by.

Today, I propose to speak of the Master’s integrity. There is an extraordinary power in the character of one who could ride into the nest of his enemies and the seat of his people’s needs, as Jesus did when he rode a donkey into Jerusalem just before the feast of the Passover. It was a strange event, that so-called triumphal entry into Jerusalem. It could hardly have been as impressive as the coming of some military horseman. In a way, it seems quite the opposite of triumph for anybody to ride toward a great city on a plodding donkey. I do not suppose that Jesus was trying to achieve notice nor to appeal for adulation. That would be quite out-of-character in him. He was not seeking to have anybody salute him as “Lord, Lord.” It hardly seems likely that he craved the cheers of people who might see him coming.

But he did have a concern that the scripture might be fulfilled. This manner of entry into Jerusalem seemed to fit in with some of the prophetic mood of the scriptures which he knew so well. Convinced that it was the will of God that he carry out a special mission, he wanted his whole effort to be in keeping with what might be the purpose of God for his life. The writer of the gospel of John reminds his readers of a passage in Zechariah (chapter 9, verse 9) which reads: “Fear not, daughters of Zion; behold thy King is coming sitting on as ass’s colt.” That writer thinks that Jesus was fulfilling a prophecy in the way he entered Jerusalem. And at least one other gospel writer, Matthew, agrees with him. At any rate, it caught the imagination of a great many people, and some began to shout, to throw down their garments for him to ride over, and to wave the branches of trees as they sang and shouted. All of this points not to any sudden vanity on the part of Jesus, but rather to his great sincerity. If he felt that this was the way in which he should be entering the great city, then this is the way he would enter.

The week following would witness his frequent attacks on hypocrisy in responsible people. Here was one who was not interested in the outward appearance of people, but was concerned rather with what is genuine in them. Jesus’ demand for sincerity called forth some scathing denunciations of hypocrisy. A favorite passage from the Old Testament was one which he quoted from Isaiah: [see Matthew 15: 7-9, Isaiah 29: 13]:

“This people honoreth me with their lips;

But their heart is far from me.

But in vain do they worship me,

Teaching as their doctrine the precepts of men.”

He had evidently read it and pondered it; had not only known it as a historical reference, but sought its meaning in his own day in Palestine.

It costs a searching struggle for some of us to give up our own contentment with people who “look on the outward appearance” and seek inwardly to be such persons that we may merit the approval of God, who “looketh on the heart.” The hypocrisy that Jesus so much abhorred is a perfectly modern sin! It consists in caring little for real goodness and usefulness in life, so long as an admirable, or at least respectable, appearance can be made.

Jesus detested the pride that people took in having others see how generous were their alms, how correct their religious dress, how proper their seating in the synagogue, how conventionally right their prayers. He would remind his disciples that pride itself was the only reward for that outlook -- and it is a hollow reward. The secret of hypocrisy is the desire to appear well without paying the price that being right costs! We love to be highly regarded by people. Perhaps it is no sin to deserve that regard. But it becomes evil when the attention of our lives becomes a conscious effort to curry people’s favor and approval.

The man of real integrity is concerned with the effort to know right and to be right, above his concern for what people may think of him. Charles Spurgeon once said of William E. Gladstone: “We believe in no man’s infallibility, but it is restful to feel sure of one man’s integrity.” Jesus used to tell his disciples: “Take heed that ye do not your righteousness before men, to be seen of them; else ye have no reward with your Father who is in heaven.” [Matthew 6: 1].

There is an apparent self-contradiction in Jesus’ teaching. For he tells us so to live that men may see our good works; and then he warns us not to do our righteousness to be seen of men. Perhaps there are two kinds of hypocrisy. We are quite familiar with the kind that makes us wish to appear better than we are; but it may also be hypocritical to be willing to appear worse than we are. If one is a follower of Christ in secret, but will not confess him publicly and stand for him; if he lets himself be regarded as possibly not in earnest about his faith and character when in fact he is in earnest, is he not a hypocrite? It is one’s duty to market his best goods, to reveal his best self, to let the finest things that God has wrought in him, shine forth. Whatever is a real light in one’s life is to give light around one; not to be hidden like a candle under a bushel basket. Jesus’ point in sincerity seems to be that the inner motive must not be the selfish desire to be seen and noticed and praised of men, but to live so that if they see any good in us, they may glorify the good God who is our Father.

Jesus put in a strong word of integrity of speech. He looked with stern disapproval upon a custom of emphasizing one’s statements by swearing an oath. Let your ‘yes’ or ‘no’ be genuine enough so that people will learn to depend upon it. [Matthew 5: 34-37]. The Master hated a lie, no matter how it might be dressed up.

One of the disciplines of sincerity, commended by Jesus, was to pray and meditate in private. There is often strength to be found in corporate worship with others, as in Sunday morning prayer at church. But, lest it become a temptation just to be seen of other people, there is also merit in private prayer and meditation. For “God is not mocked.” When we know that the “Father seeth in secret” we can be content only with what we know we can present to Him of genuineness in our lives.

Early in his ministry, Jesus had warned his followers against “false prophets” and had said, “By their fruits ye shall know them --- Every good tree brings forth good fruit; but the corrupt tree brings forth evil fruit. A good tree can not bring forth evil fruit, neither can a corrupt tree bring forth good fruit --- By their fruits you shall know them.” [Matthew 7: 15-20]. He was saying that deeds or words which do not spring out of the nature and quality of the heart are not genuinely good.

What Jesus endured for his cause is a testimony to his sincerity and integrity. He left the comforts of his home; he endured the hostility of home town people, some of whom would just as soon have killed him for some of his teaching; he endured the lack of understanding and strength in his disciples; he endured great loneliness in his position; before the end of his mortal ministry he was to endure treachery, injustice, and a martyr’s death.

Hardship severely tests the genuineness of anyone’s loyalty, especially when a cause has little human probability of winning. The Master was steadfast when nothing but absolute devotion to duty could have been his motive. But Jesus’ sincerity involved something more than consecration; it was the pervasive quality of his whole life. His life was not just like the flowers that bloom in the spring. It was more like the climate, the very atmosphere, in which all virtues may grow.

Think of what Jesus endured in Pilate’s court in the very early hours of a Friday morning. The Roman procurator was somewhat kindly disposed to him. By Roman standards, Jesus appeared to Pilate to be innocent of crime. Only the mob outside, crying for his crucifixion, prevented Pilate from releasing Jesus.

How easily Jesus could have made some compromising statement that would have satisfied Pilate and effected his release. Instead, he stayed right in character by asserting: “To this end have I been born, and to this end I am come into the world, that I should bear witness unto the truth.” [John 18: 37]. It was the same reply he had made when some Greeks came to see him. He would not lie even to save himself from execution on a cross. In view of his attitude, it does not seem to be too much to say that there are no imaginable circumstances under which Jesus would have deceived anyone --- friend or enemy.

Anyone who follows the Master through his fearless ministry will be unable to escape the impression of his absolute genuineness. Here was one who could not be bought nor frightened; one who even for the sake of what might appear to be a kind of good, would not tell a lie. He needed disciples. All too few were those who were willing to support him in his work. He must have regretted the decision of the rich young ruler who declined to make the sacrifice that discipleship required of him. And when a scribe said, in enthusiasm, “Teacher, I will follow you wherever you go,” Jesus did not say: “Fine, you’ll never regret it.” Rather, he warned the scribe of the real truth of his situation when he said, “Foxes have holes, birds have nests, but the Son of Man actually has no place to lay his head.” [Luke 9: 57-58]. Faced with that honesty, the scribe’s enthusiasm cooled off and Jesus lost a potential disciple. He would take no one under false pretenses. To his own devoted disciples, he told them honestly about the dangers that awaited them. He warned them of persecution ahead, of hardship and loneliness along with the reward of knowing that they were doing the will of God.

Jesus would allow no outward forms to be a substitute for genuine inward life. We all delight in being respected by others, but the Master’s character suggests a more searching role, to be such persons in our inward life that we can respect ourselves. The Master never had to be ashamed of himself.

The other element in his genuineness is revealed in his phrase, “The Father who seeth in secret.” [Matthew 6: 6]. In the fine phrase of Scripture he lived “in the sight of God.” When a person brings all his thoughts, ambitions, motives and attitudes of heart to the arbitrament of the “Father who seeth in secret” he must be a genuine person, willing to accept what is permanently right rather than attempt to create his own selfish notion of right. It may not be a test of sincerity at all that we live on good terms with our fellows; --- that we live on honorable terms with ourselves and our own consciences, is a deeper standard; that we live on right terms with God, means the greatest genuineness of life.

The sincerity of Jesus has at least these elements in it: (1) he would under no circumstances deceive anyone whether to save himself, to allay hostility to his cause, or to win followers. (2) He was content only with an inward life so genuinely good that he needed never to be ashamed of himself nor shrink from the sight of God. This is the kind of character by which he has convinced the world.

Jesus’ integrity is characterized by a remarkable fearlessness. How could any man have walked or ridden into Jerusalem on that Sunday knowing that, before the week was out, he would be dragged or driven out another gate to be crucified? He seems to have known it, yet he went into the city anyway. The very contemplation of such fearless courage may give us a willingness to live above the average plane where we do everything that anybody else does, to a level of worthy habits in the social life about us.

How constantly Jesus had to stand out against the customs of his people. The drag of “ordinary standards” is usually down, when one it trying to live his best in life. Now and then, in a democracy, we hear the expression: “the voice of the people is the voice of God.” It is even graven, in Latin or English, on some public buildings. Is that true? Does the popular vote always result in fine music or drama? In pure justice? Is the world always saved by a majority? Or is there place for the fearless leader, the fearless citizen who will, when necessary, stand against the crowd for what he is sure is right? Jesus did. Shall there not be others who will, on necessary occasion, “go and do likewise?”

Many of us take for granted the social, the industrial conditions, the status of our school or church or fraternity as being a matter of course, without asking what should be changed, what new rules or conditions should be adopted to make conditions better. Note that Jesus would not take for granted any condition that seemed to him wrong, no matter how long it had stood nor under what authority. He believed that all present conditions must be brought into line with the Kingdom of God. And he fearlessly set about changing what needed to be different in this light.

Perhaps a deep belief that God’s cause is going to win will help us to tackle the conditions of our time as he tackled his. Such a faith can contribute a great confidence that overcomes fear. Think how the faith of far-seeing men and women, that slavery could be abolished, necessarily preceded its abolishment in this country. Consider how greatly our world needs fearless faith that other evils can be abolished and the world Christianized.

Jesus’ fearlessness was the kind that could say to his disciples: “Do not be afraid of them that kill the body, and after that have no more that they can do.” [Matthew 10: 28]. It was a revelation of his own problem. But he fully expected that the right which he taught and lived would go right on, whether his body were present or not. When he saw what needed to be changed, he could say to those who were so zealous for their ancient Law, “It was said unto you of old time, but I say unto you ...”[Matthew 5: 33-48]. In this sense he was a revolutionist.

It is perfectly valid to speak of Jesus as a revolutionary influence. He was so. But we need to balance our notion of Jesus as a revolutionist in religion by noting that he always thought of himself as fulfilling, not destroying, the old revelation of God to Israel. His complaint against the stubborn elders was that they were obscuring the spirit of that revelation by their attention to the minute legalism of their regulations, and this kind of legalism he attacked without fear. He had a great reverence for the old Law. But when his peaceable efforts to interpret and dedicate it to the people were unappreciated by the Pharisees and conflict was forced by them, Jesus was uncompromising and fearless. It was far more than physical courage. It included physical courage, but it was also the fearlessness of a great conviction.

The fearlessness of the Master dealt in two special ways with the organized religion of his day. First, he persisted in making man’s relationship with God depend on spiritual, not ceremonial, conditions. If necessary, he would break the letter of the Sabbath law, in order to fulfill its function better. The same fearless attitude of Jesus is seen, secondly, in his dealing with the narrow exclusiveness of the Pharisees. He took up open battle with their narrow provincialism; he was friendly with Samaritans, with outcasts, with all sorts of folk who had need of his understanding. And his fearlessness, at length, was sufficiently well-communicated to his followers that it was reported in the book of Acts that “When they beheld the boldness of Peter and John, .... they took knowledge of them, that they had been with Jesus.” [Acts 4: 13].

This combination, then, of deep and uncompromising sincerity and of confident fearlessness, made up much of the integrity of the Master who, on Palm Sunday, rode into Jerusalem to confront corruption at its source and to die in the fight.

Let us, his followers in 1963, be more than rooters shouting “hosannah.” Let us be his disciples in dedicated integrity.

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Delivered in Wisconsin Rapids, April 7, 1963 (Palm Sunday).

Also at Waioli Church, Palm Sunday, March 23, 1975.