Friends in Christ, nothing says “king” like the sight of old, tattered garments laying around in the street. I’m kidding.(These were not our most valuable things strewn before Jesus — I mean would you really throw your best jackets and coats on the ground, even here? Neither would those in power in Jesus time. These were the blankets and shawls of the poorest and the most desperate.) Nothing says “Hosanna” like Jesus getting dusty and dirty and riding in on a baby horse. This is the scandal of the Gospel, friends! ...only to be outdone later this week when this same God of ours is hoisted up on a cross.
Welcome to Holy Week. Are you sure you want to do this? Because this road becomes a bumpy road, if you take it. Now, many, I imagine, choose to skip over Holy Week devotions and services on Thursday and Friday, and simply meet us on Easter morning, and that’s OK — everyone is welcome.
But for those who take this journey to the cross, the road is rocky. But in this road is redemption, new life, forgiveness, transformation, love, hope, and most of all peace — in a violent and chaotic and backstabbing world. Jesus on this colt trots down the road of peace, and fulfills what the angels sang about to the shepherds long ago — peace on earth, good will to all. “Blessed is the one who comes in the name YHWH.”
This entry into Jerusalem, this parade of and for Jesus which we remember — and even enact with our own, little procession — was a very dangerous and political demonstration. (Anyone who doesn’t think Jesus was political better take a second look at these stories!) Jesus knew exactly what he was doing — and when it comes to political protests and demonstrations, timing is everything.
You see, every year, a couple times a year, Pontius Pilate — the mighty Roman governor of Judea — would come up from his home in Caesarea (about 50 mi. NW), the coastal Roman capital of the area, and into the city of Jerusalem...to govern, to remind people who’s in charge here. Jews lived in occupied territory and they hated that — as I’m sure we would too. Just the sight of the mighty Roman procession of Pilate and his entourage up on their mighty, war horses, would make their blood boil. It would remind them more than ever of the oppression under which they lived. But if any of them took a chance and tried to mock them — well, try throwing something at the imperial military procession — see what happens…
And this was the week that the Jews were to be celebrating Passover, and people were coming in from all over Judea to do so. And so just like when Capitals and the Nationals both have games in DC at the same time: extra security is shipped in, to make sure nothing gets out of hand. This happened whenever the Jews had a big festival, but especially the festival of Passover, because here — as you know — the Passover a celebration, a remembrance of their liberation from Egypt, it was all about freedom from oppression. So certain groups of Jews — Zealots especially — were known to incite the Jewish crowds. It was a really tense atmosphere during Passover. Anything could happen and the Roman powers — under the command of Pontius Pilate — were going to make sure that it didn’t — or else...there would be blood. This was “Pax Romana” (Peace of Rome), the great decree of Caesar, live and in the flesh!
And Pilate and his military forces always came in, we know, through a gate on the western side of Jerusalem, the royal gate, the gate that leads right to their Roman luxurious capital city on the Mediterranean coast. Easy access.
And Roman theology put military power and military leaders on such a pedestal as to elevate the experience of their triumphal entry to a religious event. When Roman military leaders and governors like Pilate would come into town, always mounted on great, white war horses, the people would spread blankets on the ground and shout “God save the Emperor” or in Hebrew “Hosanna to the Emperor”, trumpets would play, historians even tell us that they would spray expensive perfume into the streets, so that the smell of victory, power and might was literally in the air. And woe to any who would disrupt a demonstration and a parade — a worship service — like this!
(It’d like someone disrupting the National Anthem...try it...)
At the beginning of the Passover week, Pilate and his entourage rode into town (from the west) with all this respect and awe and fanfare.
But there was another procession coming into town that day — another leader was entering through an opposite gate — this one on the eastern side of the city. Jesus was coming in from Bethphage, where the Mount of Olives is located, just east of the Jerusalem walls. Jesus’ timed this just right. He knew Pilate was coming from the west, right about the same time. So Jesus rides in — not on a war horse — but on a colt in Luke’s gospel. And it all came off as a mockery of Rome. Jesus interrupted the National Anthem. And this Palm Sunday parade that we study and reflect upon this morning, and even enact, at the beginning of Holy Week, is a political demonstration that really mocks all the trust that the Romans have in their systems of war, of peace-by-force, of their mighty horses, and legions of troops, and of Rome’s distance from the people. They’re not in touch!
It’s not “pax” at all — that Rome offers, if it’s peace through force. And Jesus knows exactly what he’s doing.
And so, the text goes on to say, that the people were stirred up. It says the whole city was in turmoil. Some of the Pharisees, it says, wanted to calm every body down: “Teacher order your disciples to stop,” but Jesus says, “I tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout out.” The very earth would scream. There’s no going back, in other words. There’s no keeping status quo any longer. Something has broken out, heaven has touched earth, and that’s frightening, and that’s promising.
Holy Week is so rich with meaning...
Our God is not a contender for Pilate and Rome and their legions. Even though I’m setting it up (and actually this the late, great Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan’s work) like a boxing match: [Don King] “Coming in from the west..! East...Let’s get ready to rumble!” No, Christ’s is a road of peace and justice, particularly in Luke’s Gospel. Remember Jesu’; inauguration speech and before that, Mary’s song that we’ve been singing all through Lent, about the poor being filled and having good news brought to them?! Christ is our peace.
But I wonder if there’s a part of us — I know there’s a part of me — that wants to see Jesus be the great contender to the powers of this world, taking Pilate down with a divine TKO. Why do we have this appetite for violence and revenge? That would certainly be tapping into the spirit of the crowds of that time too. In fact, that’s exactly what the Jews wanted Jesus to do. “Knock him out the box, Jesus!”
But friends in Christ, Jesus contends against something much greater than a powerful and oppressive regime. [pause] Jesus contends against evil and sin, against “the devil and all his empty promises”, against hatred and violence, against war and oppression, against bigotry and ignorance, against selfishness and pride. (Jesus contends against all the challenges that were before us through Lent -- bitterness, the struggle to forgive, staying awake and alert, participating always in the care and attention to the least, the lost, and the lowly. How’d that go for you?
I’m guessing — by virtue of the fact that you’re a human being — that you didn’t perfect the disciplines of Lent — prayer, fasting, almsgiving — maybe you even failed pretty miserably. Yes, Lent teaches us again and again that we stand in the need of God’s grace.) But Jesus comes to contend against these forces.
[slowly] Jesus — in his humble and yet powerful ride into town, mounted on a goofy, young colt — is contending against death itself.
Nothing says Emmanuel like Christ on a goofy, young colt.
Nothing says God-is-with-us like this spectacle from the eastern gate of the city. For God comes quietly alongside us and offers us peace amid all the chaos and fury.
The irony here is palpable — that Christ would take on powers much greater than Pilate and the authorities — seated on a baby horse, adorned later with thorns and lashings, and on Friday hanging from a cross. But Christ comes into Jerusalem and into our hearts precisely for that purpose — to take on death itself...for our sake...to give us peace. AMEN.
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