Driving her four year old to soccer practice one day, a doctor glanced over at her daughter who had picked up the stethoscope she left on the car seat. As she began playing with it, the mom tried to remain calm, although she was extremely excited that it seemed her daughter was expressing a genuine interest in perhaps following in mom's footsteps. Then the child spoke into the instrument. "Welcome to McDonald's, may I take your order?"

There are times when our expectations are dashed to pieces, when what we dream ends up in disappointment, or worse: pain. Last weekend in Mexico I was reminded of a lesson I learned years before when visiting that country. In some countries you have to watch your P's and Q's. In Mexico, however, when you take a bath or shower, better watch your H's and C's as well. An "H" on the faucet means helado: cold. A "C" means caliente: hot. For the unsuspecting, the result can be a bit surprising.

We go through life having to readjust our expectations. That should come as no surprise, and while at first may throw us off a bit, it should not destroy us. But when our expectations move from the mundane to the momentous, when our expectations are tied to matters of life and death, then we must alter our expectations lest we be undone.

There is perhaps no better place to see this need than in a familiar story in the Gospels often referred to as the "Triumphal Entry." The story is often told with great glee and excitement. The arrival of Jesus in Jerusalem days before the Crucifixion is many times explained as a victory parade. Yet, that is far from the way Luke wants us to see it in Luke 19. Not only is it not pictured as a triumph; He doesn’t really enter. This morning, in preparation for the week before Easter Sunday, let us take a moment to re-examine this familiar passage and allow it to reformat our expectations.

28 After Jesus had said this, he went on ahead, going up to Jerusalem.

29 As he approached Bethphage and Bethany at the hill called the Mount of Olives, he sent two of his disciples, saying to them,

30 "Go to the village ahead of you, and as you enter it, you will find a colt tied there, which no one has ever ridden. Untie it and bring it here.

31 If anyone asks you, `Why are you untying it?' tell him, `The Lord needs it.'"

32 Those who were sent ahead went and found it just as he had told them.

33 As they were untying the colt, its owners asked them, "Why are you untying the colt?"

34 They replied, "The Lord needs it."

35 They brought it to Jesus, threw their cloaks on the colt and put Jesus on it.

36 As he went along, people spread their cloaks on the road.

37 When he came near the place where the road goes down the Mount of Olives, the whole crowd of disciples began joyfully to praise God in loud voices for all the miracles they had seen:

38 "Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord!" "Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!"

39 Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to Jesus, "Teacher, rebuke your disciples!"

40 "I tell you," he replied, "if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out."

41 As he approached Jerusalem and saw the city, he wept over it

42 and said, "If you, even you, had only known on this day what would bring you peace--but now it is hidden from your eyes.

43 The days will come upon you when your enemies will build an embankment against you and encircle you and hem you in on every side.

44 They will dash you to the ground, you and the children within your walls. They will not leave one stone on another, because you did not recognize the time of God's coming to you."

The difficulty we often have is that for many of us Jesus is little more than Mr. Rogers with a beard. He is kind and gentle, slightly effeminate. For others, Jesus is Mr. Spock, one who remains calm, cool and collected among excitable humans. But this passage confronts our expectations and forces us to rethink how we view Jesus. What are the expectations in this passage?

It is easy to see why the people got so excited when Jesus arrived on the donkey. He came as one offering peace and they latched onto that promise. But they did not grasp the importance of this event because their own expectations were all they could see. Their confusion is understandable, however.

Notice what Jesus does; He gets on a donkey to ride into Jerusalem. Luke doesn’t go into as much detail about the importance of this event. Matthew tells us it is a fulfillment of Zechariah 9:9, a prophecy the Jews would understand referring to Messiah. Genesis 49:10-11 makes a connection between a donkey and a king.

A quick reading of this passage gives good reason to hope. The Jews saw their long awaited freedom from Roman tyranny. They knew at last they would have a king over them who would not seek their destruction, but their peace. Their expectations dictated how to interpret the scene.

Their expectations included peace from oppression, peace in their country, peace in their lives, so it is understandable that they were elated, that they responded with worship. Their first response was to throw their cloaks on the ground. This act of humility was reserved for the warrior King.

The only place in the Bible where this act is recorded is in 2 Kings 9, when Jehu is anointed King of Israel and sent off to kill Jezebel and the wicked leaders. Jehu's mission, his purpose, was to destroy the wicked that oppressed Israel. When the people remembered this, they laid their cloaks on the ground as an act of humility.

They respond to Jesus out of their own expectations. They think He’s come as a conquering hero, as a reigning King. They think He’ll make their lives better. The trouble is that their expectation is centered on their own comfort, their own perceived needs. They are missing what is most important. In doing this, the followers did not understand the peace Jesus was offering them. His peace was not one of destruction of their enemies, but His destruction for their sins.

Not only do the cloaks indicate a false expectation, so does their praise. Again, on the surface, it seems so good. As Jesus rides down the Mount of Olives towards the city wall of Jerusalem, they begin to sing.

What they sing is not that unusual. It is from Psalm 118. During this season there were six psalms used to celebrate Israel's freedom from captivity in Egypt, Psalms 113-118. These are called the Hallel Psalms, the songs of praise sung by pilgrims as they approached Jerusalem. The crowds were flocking toward the holy city in preparation of Passover, so their presence and this song would not be a surprise.

But one small change is made in Luke. The other Gospels record what Psalm 118:26 says: "Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord." Picking up on the royal nature of the event, Luke picks up on those in the crowd who say: "Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord."

Jesus overturned their expectations.

But Jesus’s arrival is vastly different and the people do not catch it. The crowd's response demonstrates that their expectations blinded them to the event.

The colt on which He sat was not the stallion expected of a king. In order to conquer mighty Rome, a war horse would be necessary, not a baby donkey.

The donkey was reserved for ambassadors, priests and kings who were on a friendly, peaceful visit. It was not that only lowly people rode donkeys; Kings would as well, but only in times of peace. Jesus comes offering himself as a King, but one that will bring peace.

What is more, this is a donkey on which no one had ever ridden. Like the womb from which Jesus came and the tomb in which He would be laid, the mode of Jesus’s transportation was new and fresh. The unbroken animal pointed to the purpose of His mission.

Animals used in sacrifice were to be animals that were never yoked, never ridden. (Numbers 19:2; Deuteronomy 21:3) By using this colt, Jesus points to how He will bring peace. Jesus enters Jerusalem offering peace, not being the destroyer of Israel's enemies, but by being destroyed Himself. Riding this young untamed donkey points to the fact that He will be the sacrifice for their peace. Jesus comes offering not just peace, but He offers Himself as their peace.

The song sung which greeted their Messiah points to the confused nature of their expectations.

While Luke does not record the use of palm branches as the other Gospels mention, the Psalm from which they sang tells us why the palms were used. This song was song as the pilgrims strode up the final hill toward the gates of Jerusalem and with them they brought the Passover lamb. Notice verse 27: "with boughs in hand, join the festal procession."

In Hebrew there is a play on words: the branches (like a willow) would be gathered and used to take the offering, the sacrificial lamb, to the altar and tethered to the rings on the altar. The palm branches are the ropes with which the sacrifice is tied to the altar.

Their expectations for success, for peace from external turmoil, blinds them to the reality. Jesus came not to free them from the temporal turbulence of troubled times, but from a far greater problem than the tyranny of Rome. He came to save His people from themselves.

The Pharisees’ expectations were different but just as misguided. For them peace was not the removal of unwanted rulers. For them peace was something to be maintained, peace found in not overturning the apple cart; it was found in the status quo.

The crowd’s adulation was offensive to their sensibilities. It pushed the limits of toleration. It may have arisen from fear of Imperial Rome’s iron fist squelching such adoration. It may have been that Jesus’s credentials did not match their expectations for what a Messiah should be. He was a little too compassionate toward sinners, a bit too full of life for an ambassador of God, not nearly somber enough for their tastes. They wanted a manageable Messiah, one who would allow life to flow unhindered, peacefully. Jesus was too passionate for them.

But Jesus would have none of their censorious attitude. While the leaders wanted worship to be sedate, Jesus offered an unwelcomed option. If people don’t praise God, the stones will.

At first this saying makes little sense; it is easily misunderstood, as did the young woman from Waterbury, CT, who came to Christ after a particularly difficult life. She understood the need for worship of God in her life, and after reading this passage she had an idea. She scoured the rocky shores of the New England coast and found just the right rocks. She sat down and painted pretty flowers and Bible verses on them, so that the rocks would be able to praise God.

But what the passage is saying is not that the rocks will cry out that Jesus is the suffering King, but that if we do not worship, if we are unwilling to submit our lives to Christ in gratitude, judgment will come. To say the rocks will cry out is to say that destruction will come and your destroyed city will be a living testimony of your refusal to submit to Me, to worship Me.

In Psalm 118, which the crowds just sang, is the familiar verse which declares: "the stone which the builders rejected has become the capstone." Throughout the New Testament this verse again and again points out how the leadership of Israel constantly trip over the very one who could save them. Their sin and hard-heartedness would never allow them to see the solution to their problem of sin.

But not only is Jesus the stone which the builders rejected, there is a quite literal fulfillment to this statement. Jesus elaborates on it down in verses 43-44.

The crying of the stones would be the sound of Titus’s army building siege ramps up the walls of the city in AD 70. The Jewish historian Josephus, who was present during the destruction of Jerusalem, describes in graphic detail how the Tenth Roman Legion encircled the city for five months. When at last they broke through the walls all within the city who had not died from starvation or were consumed as food by others, were slaughtered. As a testimony to future generations, the walls of that great city were torn down, not one stone remained in place. Those walls still cry out 2000 years later.

How do you think He would react to such a misguided, self-centered set of expectations? The people and the leaders both wanted a Messiah who would give them what they wanted. They wanted peace on their terms.

At this point, I would expect Jesus to be enraged. For three years He taught people who He was and why He came. But even those closest to Him did not understand. Look at the context of this event in verse 28.

What is it He said? In the parable of the minas, Jesus described how a nobleman prepared for his coronation in a distant land. Before he left, he gave his servants varying amounts of money which they were to use to earn more money. Meanwhile, the subjects of this ruler rejected his authority. Upon his return, the servants reported to the king what they had done with his money. The one who had ten, earned ten, the one who was given five, earned five more. But the one with only one did nothing, which drew the master’s wrath. What is more, those who were his enemies were to be brought before him and killed.

With that as the context, what would be your expectation of Jesus to these people who do not understand? We may expect wrath. That wrath will come is certain from the crying of the stones, but His immediate response is seen in verse 41, a response we may not expect: He wails.

The famous short line: "Jesus wept" often has the picture of a melancholy Messiah who wipes the tears from His checks. But in stark contrast to the crowd's exuberance Jesus mourns the destruction of these people. The hardness of heart of those whose expectations for peace on their own terms will be met with judgment. The word for weeping here is more than just tearing eyes. The word means to sob, wail aloud. Christ’s whole heart is moved with sorrow. It is the word used of those who mourned the death of Jarius’s daughter. Matthew uses this word in quoting from Jeremiah 31 after the slaughter of the children of Bethlehem as mothers lament the death of their children.

The first response of Jesus is not one of wrath, but sorrow for the wrath that will come against all those who reject Him. There is no gleeful delight in His wrath, no vengeful pleasure, but rather a broken heart for their inability to recognize the answer to their problems.

Their false expectations had so blinded their eyes that the peace which Christ came to offer meant nothing to them: "if you had only known what would bring you peace..." But now it is too late.

This event is a culmination of a series of stories which illustrate the blindness of the people, but which also offer a sense of hope for those who we often think will never see.

The parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector illustrates the problem of the expectation that one’s own personal morality matters before God. The Pharisee is sure that his goodness means something to God. The sinner is hopeless, except in God’s sovereign mercy. Next the disciples are certain Jesus doesn’t want to be bothered by kids. The expectation is that maturity and self-sufficiency matters most. This is pointed out further by the ruler’s certainty that inheriting eternal life depends on his own effort. If only he keeps the Law, God will smile on him. While we may laugh at his delusion, next we read of the disciples who still don’t grasp the necessity of Christ’s suffering. In Luke, who knows what will bring peace? Tax collectors and children, a blind beggar by the road. His sight far exceeds all others. Then there is Zacchaeus whose sight is hindered by his slight stature. It is the one who knows his sinfulness who has his expectations in line with Christ’s offer of peace.

How is that peace obtained? How can you and I recognize Jesus if those who saw the miracles missed Him? If the crowd shouted "hosanna" on Sunday and "crucify" on Friday, what will keep us from worshipping a Messiah of our own making rather than the Son of God?

It is by altering our expectations. It is found in aligning our desires for peace with the peace that God offers to us in Christ. Instead of wanting peace from their enemies, they should have latched onto peace with God. Instead of maintaining a peaceful life, they should have allowed their lives to be disrupted by their own sinfulness. Their perceived comfort was their downfall.

People love to proclaim Christ as the political savior or the moral reformer. But peace is not found in changing the White House or even changing your house. It is not obtained through political, financial or familial reform. We may crave peace around us, but we need peace between us and God. You must see your need, your inability to save yourself, and cast yourself on Christ and Christ alone. It is when we become like Zacchaeus, the blind beggar, or the child, and see that without Christ, we have no peace before God.

We don’t need to be saved from the terrors of political unrest. We do not need salvation from financial ruin. We do not need rescue from broken homes. As troubling as those may be, and they are, the ultimate concern we must face is how we can be rescued from the wrath of God. If we expect God to answer in those peripheral ways, our praise will be misguided and our worship focused on ourselves. When that happens, it is the stones which will sing as they crush us in our rebellion.

The peace which Christ secured came at a tremendous cost:the cost of His life sacrificed for us. We may hail Christ as conquering King, but if we fail to embrace Him as the suffering servant, we are no different from those who reject Christ; we are only chasing after the delusions of our own expectations.

Don’t be like the throngs ascending to Jerusalem that day, excited about seeing their own expectations fulfilled, their lives made easier, peace coming in their time. Rather, accept God’s terms of peace. Will you lay down your expectations of what Christ needs to do for you and see your need of Him? The King has come to His rebel subjects and offered peace on His own terms. The terms of peace are simple: Lay down your arms of your own self-righteousness, your self-sufficiency. Admit you are defeated apart from Christ and accept your full and free pardon.