It was one of the greatest cinematic events of all time. It wasn't just a great movie -- it changed the history of movie-making. You can't say that about many movies, but this was one of the few. Even more than that, this movie defined a generation, if not more than one generation. It changed not only the movies, but how movies were marketed and received in society.

I bet some of you can guess which movie I am referring to, can't you? That's right, Star Wars. Sure, the special effects are a bit dated now, but the story itself excited the imagination, captivating the attention of boys such as myself. I used to spend hours and hours playing with the Star Wars figurines. I think I even had Star Wars sheets. I had the Millenium Falcon and a few of the other accessories, or at least I did until the disappeared into the black hole of a family garage sale. And in preparing this sermon, I went through some of my stuff to discover that I still have some of the original figures -- Darth Vader, Princess Leia, OB1 Kenobi, etc. Unfortunately, I seem to recall that Luke Skywalker was somehow beheaded, so he is no longer with us.

For those of you who need your memories refreshed, the setting of Star Wars is one in which an evil empire is increasing its power and spreading its dominion across the universe. Those living under its authority were oppressed, and any resistance was brutally crushed by the military might of the Storm Troopers and their allies. Nevertheless, here and there throughout the universe, there were pockets of resistance, individuals and groups who refused to submit. Star Wars tells the story of Luke Skywalker as he matures in power and self-awareness to eventually become a threat to the empire. He gathers around him a motley crew of friends -- Hans Solo, Chewy, Princess Leia, R2D2, and the hapless droid C3PO. It has been years since I have seen the movie, but I've seen it so many times, and it left such an impression on my childhood imagination, that I can still easily remember these details. This unlikely crew of renegades has several encounters at different places in the universe as they grow closer to each other. They have skirmishes with the forces of the empire at various points in the story. Finally, at the climax of the movie, they gather together with other rebel forces for a rather desperate attack on the center and symbol of the Empire's power, the Death Star. The Death Star -- what a name! The Death Star is an imperial base in space that is so large, it looks like a moon. It has a tractor beam that can slowly but inexorably suck in space ships into its power.

I was reminded of Star Wars because of the parallels I see between it and our gospel story. First century Palestine may not have been ruled by an empire quite as evil as the Evil Empire of Star Wars, but it too was ruled and occupied by a foreign empire nonetheless, the Roman Empire. The Romans and their local allies, the Sadducees and others, exploited the people and extorted money out of them. Those who were on the underside of this power weren't happy, but any resistance was brutally suppressed, not by the Imperial Storm Troopers of Star Wars, but by the legions of Rome. The Romans didn't want to take any chances -- they weren't above killing or crucifying a few people just, you know, to keep people in line. And in Matthew's gospel, we are told of King Herod, an ally of Rome, who ordered the slaughter of the babies of Bethlehem in a failed attempt to kill Jesus. The picture, in other words, is rather grim.

Nonetheless, in the Galilee, in a troubled province on the fringe of the empire, a renegade leader arises. Jesus of Nazareth. He gathers a motley crew of disciples around him, nobodies for the most part, some fisherman, a tax collector, some women. Through what they witness and experience, they grow closer to each other. There are some skirmishes with the scribes and the Pharisees and Sadducees, agents of the empire. Jesus challenges their authority and disobeys some of their laws. Tension builds. Jesus' colleague John the Baptist suffers death at the hands of the empire.

Then, four chapters ago in Matthew's gospel, six weeks ago on our calendar, on Transfiguration Sunday, I talked about being at the outer edge of the orbit, about that moment in time in which a ball seems to hang motionless in the air before it falls back down to earth. That moment represented a kind of turning point. Henceforth, Jesus heads towards Jerusalem, traveling through Judea, coming to Jericho. There has been sort of a spiritual gravity at work, as if Jerusalem is the Death Star, slowing drawing Jesus towards Jerusalem. Jerusalem, you see, was the spiritual and economic capital of the Roman province of Judea. That is where the people went on pilgrimage, that is where the Sadducees were based, that is where many of the taxes were collected. In the history of homiletics, which is just a fancy word for preaching, I don't know if Jerusalem has ever been compared with the Death Star, but hey, what the heck, the analogy is appropriate in more ways than one.

Although we at Trinity haven't been physically journeying towards Jerusalem, we have been on our own spiritual journey of a sort during Lent. We have spent time in preparation and in self-examination, confronting the Death Star forces in our own lives. They are there, aren't they? We experience Death Star forces in work that enervates us rather than rejuvenates us, sapping our sense of meaning and purpose. We experience Death Star forces in encounters with bureaucracies and organizations that treat us one-dimensionally, and don't know how to listen. We experience Death Star forces when death takes the life of a loved one.

It is into this context of the gospel story, into this context of our lives, that our Scripture lesson of today comes. It is the story of Jesus' entry into Jerusalem. As Matthew tells the story, crowds gather. People cheer, they know they are witnessing something special, some perhaps believe that a prophesy is being fulfilled. There is a sense of excitement in the air. Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Finally the prophet from the Galilee is coming here to Jerusalem, to confront the forces of the empire!

It brings to mind the climax of Star Wars. The ships of the rebel alliance, Luke Skywalker among them, gather together for a major assault on the Death Star. Excitement is contagious, adrenaline is pumping, the course of the future is at stake. Similarly, in Matthew's gospel, I swear you can hear it if you listen closely to the text, you can hear a voice saying, "Let's get ready to rumble." On your feet, ladies and gentleman, raise your voices high, we are about to witness a spectacular confrontation. Jesus and Jerusalem, Jesus and the Death Star are going head to head!
Beneath this excitement, feeding into it, is a tender yet enduring hope. Hosanna, cries the crowd, which means, "save us." "Save us", O ye who comes in the name of the Lord, do something. Son of David, bearer of the hope of generations, liberate us. It is the cry of the crowd, and unless I miss my guess, it is often our cry as well. Save us, save us from death and meaningless and loneliness, do something, change the ways in which we live, change our world, bring us justice and peace, liberate us, liberate us to an abundant life.

Matthew tells us that when Jesus entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil. In Greek the root of this word "turmoil" is earthquake, there is a sense that there is a profound shaking of the foundations, a mobilization of deep forces. The forces of hope and fear will meet each other in the person of Christ this week.

As the climax of Star Wars unfolds, Luke and his allies face the fearsome forces of the Death Star in a battle that becomes increasingly difficult and desperate. Many of his friends are killed. Others fail in attempts to destroy the Death Star through a well-placed and well-times shot. Finally, Luke says, "I'm going in," and he plunges into the dangerous crevasse that leads to the one vulnerable spot on the Death Star. Shots are fired all around him, it seems he has no chance in the face of such odds. But he hears OB1 Kenobi's voice say to him, "let go and use the force." He obeys, he turns off his targeting system, and allows himself to be guided by a spiritual force, miraculously firing the shot that destroys the Death Star.

Palm Sunday, Passion Sunday, represents that moment in which Jesus says, "I'm going in." The week ahead, Holy Week, the Last Week, will witness a cosmic confrontation. I strongly encourage you to come to the special services this week on Maundy Thursday and Good Friday. Allow yourself to be sucked into this story, our story, a story that is bigger than you or I, a story that is as big as the universe. Come this week, be claimed again by the drama of this struggle.

Jesus says, "I'm going in", he will shake things up, over turn the money tables, in the heat of the battle, the disciples will peel off in abandonment and betrayal, metaphorically shot down, leaving Jesus alone. This is his moment, the climax of his ministry, there is a reason that the passion accounts of the gospels take up about a quarter of the narrative. Jesus goes into the crevasse, he goes into the valley of the shadow of death, yet he will fear no evil, for God is with him. We long for Jesus to fire the shot, to strike the blow that will kill death, that will explode the Death Star.

But it is at this point that our story diverges from that of Star Wars. For you see, our story if more complicated than that, more broken than that, more true than that. For one thing, I cannot help but be conscious of the fact that all too often, the forces of empire -- well, all too often, that is us. In our relationships with others as nations, as communities, and as individuals, all too often we are the ones that exploit and oppress. We exploit the earth in the name of progress. We torture others in the name of national security. We feast while others starve. We fail to love our neighbors as ourselves. Sin, in other words, is not just something out there, in Jerusalem or in the Death Star, it is something in us. Remember that passage I gave to you as homework during Lent, Psalm 51, which says, "For I know my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me. Against you, you alone, have I sinned, and done what is evil in your sight, so that you are justified in your sentence, and blameless in your judgment."

If sin, therefore, is a part of us, if we are a part of the forces of empire, if sin and death are a stain upon our own souls, then to destroy the Death Star would be to destroy part of ourselves. And Jesus doesn't do that, he doesn't fire the shot, he doesn't strike the blow. He won't do it, as much as we may want him to, Jesus won't kill our enemies, he loves them too much, he loves us too much, he loves us more than we love ourselves. He loves even and especially the broken, hate-filled, messed-up parts of us, because they are a part of us. This week is the story of that love, it is the story of the encounter between Love and Death. Let me repeat that -- it is the story of the encounter between Love and Death. That story breaks my heart, it drives me to my knees, it makes my cry. In this story, we see the essence of Love's power -- it lies not in its ability to defeat, but in its ability to undergo.

Jesus heads into the valley of the shadow of death, but instead of firing a shot, he lowers all his defenses. It is not what we expect. It is so shocking, it takes the breath away. It changes everything, it witnesses to a different way of being, to a different kind of power. He allows the Death Star to do its worst, he allows us to do our worst, he takes all that we give him. Yet in and through this weakness, he reveals a different kind of power, in and through his vulnerability, he witnesses to a different kind of strength. In suffering crucifixion and death, he paradoxically witnesses both to their power, but also to their powerlessness, to their limitations, to the inability of death, even at its greatest strength, even in the heart of its darkness, to destroy the power of love.

I don't understand this love. I've spent a lot of time this week pondering this encounter between love and death, and I don't feel like I understand it much better now than I did before. But it sits more deeply within me, and though I may not understand this power, I find myself in awe beneath it. Sometimes, it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.

I don't understand this power, but we have seen it at work. We have seen it at work in Christ, and by the power of the Holy Spirit, we see it at work still. It gives power to the faint and strengthens the powerless. It binds up broken hearts, it gives hope to the despairing, it brings reconciliation to enemies, it works to bring justice to the oppressed. It transforms hearts from the inside out, it is active anywhere lives are positively transformed. It imbues ordinary tasks with meaning and purpose, it brings a spirit of change to old institutions, it is so powerful it even resurrects the dead. It is the greatest power of the universe.

Of course, I shouldn't neglect to point out that the Star Wars trilogy is also a story of this power, the power of sacrificial love. More than it is a story of the struggle between the empire and the rebel forces, it is a story of the relationship between Luke Skywalker and his father Darth Vader. Darth Vader is symbolically a sort of one-man Death Star. Yet when Luke has his chance to kill him and all that he represents, he can't, he won't, he loves him too much. And that love saves Darth Vader from the inside out. In the end it saves Luke as well.

And what we celebrate this week is that that same love, in all of its mystery and power, that same love saves us. Hosanna. Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest heaven!