Scripture: Zechariah 9:9-10; Matthew 21:1-11
I read an article this past week by the writer Jill Duffield who, who poses the question: What if Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem happened now, when we are told to shelter in place, and groups of ten or more are banned? (1) The crowds that would have lined the road would be dispersed – too large a public gathering. No one would would be there to wave palms or throwing their coats on the road.
Jesus plus his disciples makes for a group of thirteen, three too many for that upper room Passover meal. How would they have held the Last Supper under these circumstances, if they were required to shelter in place?
While I am unsure how these events would have been altered, I am certain Jesus would still enter Jerusalem and the events of Holy Week would take place – different, no doubt, but unthwarted. No Zoom in those days!
I’ve been thinking about graduations cancelled, weddings postponed, award ceremonies, proms, festivals, concerts, jobs, even funerals that cannot go on as usual. The normal rhythms and milestone markers are gone, as time takes on an amorphous quality, simultaneously feeling as if it is not moving at all.
We will not gather this Sunday and parade around the church or the sanctuary waving palms. Little children will not sing Hosanna, not in the same physical space, anyway. And yet, Jesus will still enter Jerusalem. And Jesus will enter our hearts, even if crowds do not line the highway and shout.
Even if only two or three can gather at home, even if we worship from our sofa instead of in our normal pews, Jesus makes it to Jerusalem, and Jesus makes it into our hearts. Our Palm Sunday celebrations will no doubt be quieter, simpler, less demonstrative than we would have imagined just weeks ago, but they will not be stopped.
The Son of God enters our living rooms no less than he walked the streets of Jerusalem and we can still cry out to him, “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!”
We may want to whisper, rather than shout. Some of us may put a question mark instead of an exclamation point on the end of those proclamations.
Many cannot help but wonder what this Savior who rides humbly on a donkey can do to help our tumultuous world today. Everyone yearns to know when things will return to some semblance of normal. This Palm and Passion Sunday fills with our questions even as we strain to shout our affirmations.
When Jesus entered Jerusalem, that city was also in turmoil. What’s that about? Why would Jerusalem be in turmoil over Jesus’ entrance? Maybe Jerusalem knows something we have forgotten. Maybe Jerusalem knows that this is more than just Jesus coming to town. Maybe his entrance into Jerusalem is a confrontation, a show down.
Have you ever thought of Jesus’ Palm Sunday procession as a protest march? What if that’s what it really was? What if it was a resistance movement? What if it was highlighting the struggle that takes place in every human heart – the will to power or the will to life?
I’ve come to believe that that’s exactly what was happening not only on Palm Sunday, but today. Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem sets up a confrontation and it has the whole city up in arms.
Historians and biblical scholars tell us that Jesus’ procession wasn’t the only oneentering Jerusalem about this time. There was another. Jesus was entering Jerusalem from the east. On the opposite side of the city, Pontius Pilate, the governor of Judea, was entering from the west.
It was a standard practice for the Roman governor and his troops to come to Jerusalem for major Jewish feasts like the passover, not out of respect for the religious practices of the Jews, but to be in Jerusalem in case there was trouble.
The way Matthew tells the story, Jesus intends his entry into Jerusalem to make a different statement. Jesus has already taken care of the details. He sends two disciples to bring him a particular donkey and her colt that are tied and waiting at a particular location.
This isn’t chance or luck. Jesus has a plan. “If anyone says anything to you,” he tells the disciples, “just say this, ‘The Lord needs them.’ And he will send them”(Mt 21:3). It sounds a lot like Jesus has made his travel arrangements ahead of time. Jesus’ Palm Sunday procession is a demonstration countering Pilate’sprocession, and the contrast is stark.
Jesus rode a donkey into Jerusalem. Pontius Pilate rode a war horse leading a cavalry brigade. One was a peasant procession, the other an imperial march.
One came with followers, the other with soldiers. One threw down cloaks and branches, the other carried weapons and armor. One demonstrated political protest, the other political power. One was disarmed and nonviolent, the other came armed and ready for violence. One willed life and love, the other power.
“Look, your king is coming to you, humble, and mounted on a donkey, and on a colt, the foal of a donkey” (Mt 21:5). St. Matthew quotes from the prophecy of Zechariah to make sure we understand what kind of king Jesus is. That prophecy goes on to describe this king as one commanding peace to the nations. There will be no more chariots, war-horses, or battles. (Zech 9:10)
He is the king of peace and he stands in sharp contrast to the pride, arrogance, power, oppression, glory, and violence of the empire that rules the world. That wastrue then and it’s true today. Two different visions for life and the world are entering Jerusalem – the Kingdom of Heaven and the kingdom of Caesar.
That is the central conflict of Holy Week.
Speaking of power and conflict, even those people lined up for the parade, cheering Jesus on, would themselves turn against Jesus by the end of the week. Human nature is fickle, and often self serving. You see, many of those that lined the parade route were hoping that Jesus would usher in the military might, the warrior king Israel had hoped for and expected ever since king David.
They wanted a king who would come and overthrow the hated Roman military and government. They hoped Jesus would stir up and army, and restore the Jewish nature to power and control again.
I can’t help but wonder, how far have we come since that first Holy Week? Is itany different in today’s world? In your life and mine? The will to power or the willto life; that’s the question. That’s what I want us to see and wrestle with today and throughout this Holy Week.
As I mentioned earlier, Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem had all the marks of a protest –a protest against the power and corruption of the Roman government; a protest and statement about peace, justice, and compassion for all.
This past week, we saw workers at Amazon and Instacart delivery services protest for safer working conditions as they are exposed to the virus just by delivering food and packages to homes because some CEOs of large companies put profits before people. Jesus would be right there on the frontlines.
We saw nurses and healthcare workers protesting for more masks, clean scrubs, and more ventilators. We saw governors of states scrambling to get more hospital beds and ventilators as they are inundated with patients having the corona virus. Pleas have gone out for retired health workers and young medical students to answer the call during a time of crisis. And through it all, Christians everywhere mark Palm Sunday, and wonder how it fits for times like these.
Today, Jesus would ride into New York city and San Francisco. He would lead protests for healthcare workers so that they could have the safety equipment they need. He would stand with grocery clerk workers who fear they are being exposed to the virus just by helping people get the food they need; and he would join the protest with warehouse workers who fear they may contact the virus from crowded working conditions.
But most of all, Jesus would be with the sick and dying from the corona virus. He would comfort hospital patients as they take their last breath alone, separated from family members and loved ones who are not allowed at the bedside. He would stand with doctors and nurses as they take heroic measures to care for their patients.
Jesus came to bring a revolution of love. He came to revolutionize compassion, and at times you would swear that the hands of the doctors and nurses looked an awfully lot like his own hands as they care for patients with little regard for their own health and safety.
Friends, that is sacrificial love from the one who knows firsthand about sacrifice.We’ll never forget this Palm Sunday – where we were and what we were doing. Let us also never forget the one who rides today into the jaws of a relentlesspandemic, because it’s the only place he could be. Amen.
(1) Jill Duffield, Presbyterian Outlook, March 31, 2020.