Sunday, April 5, 2020

Procession



Palm Sunday

As you might imagine, this day has me pretty conflicted.  Instead of parading around with my church family and waving palms like a crazy person, I’m sequestered in my house, literally becoming a crazy person.  But then again, this day and this week remind me that there’s a reality beyond our current reality.  That’s the part of all this that gets to me sometimes: our worship together has a rhythm to it that sees past whatever our circumstances are… and we’re not allowed to worship together!  So let’s remember: this is STILL HOLY WEEK!  

Today we remember Jesus triumphantly entering Jerusalem; today we remember an event that is almost Lent in reverse.  Here’s what I mean: all throughout Lent, we do a kind of pretending.  We pretend we are a solemn people (and lately we don’t have to pretend too much).  I mean, we’re not normally solemn people, but we try to act like it through Lent.  We begin by putting ashes on our foreheads and telling each other: “Remember you are dust and to dust you will return.”  And then we take on fasts and other disciplines in an effort to learn (among other things) from the sacrifices that Jesus made on our behalf.  In some ways it seems that we spend the season of Lent pretending that the glory of Easter hasn’t happened so that we might more fully appreciate the meaning of Easter when it finally comes.  Again, we don’t always pretend these things very well, but we try.  

But then, just before Lent ends, we celebrate Palm Sunday; and it is a celebration.  All throughout Lent we’ve been (kind of) pretending that the joy of Easter never happened, and then along comes this out-of-place day of celebration to start us into Holy Week; the most solemn time of Lent.  We’re still pretending on Palm Sunday, but now we’re pretending that we don’t know what’s going to happen to Jesus later on in the week.  So, like I said, Palm Sunday is like Lent in reverse. During the rest of Lent we pretend to set aside the joy we have as People of the Resurrection.  And then on Palm Sunday we celebrate, as though we don’t remember the suffering that Jesus endured to make us a Resurrection People.   

I imagine that this is bewildering to folks outside the church.  Because frankly, it confuses some of us inside the church too; at least it’s confusing to me at times.  It’s enough to make me wonder, “What exactly is Jesus doing by entering Jerusalem like this; because it doesn’t immediately help me to understand him better?”  I find that the more I look at the events of Palm Sunday, the more I am confronted by them.  And maybe that was Jesus’ point all along.  

One of my greatest sources of comfort as we look at Matthew’s version of Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem is this: I’m not the only one puzzled by what he does here.  We read in verse ten that “When Jesus entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil, asking, ‘Who is this?’”  We’ll come back to why they were troubled by it in a minute; but to start with, if you’re also troubled by this, you’re not alone.  The pew Bibles translate the Greek word by saying the people were “in turmoil” about how Jesus was entering the city, and that’s a pretty fair translation.  They were shaken by it; it worried and distressed them.  

Not exactly the theme we shoot for when we’ve paraded around with palms, right?  When we wave our palms around at the beginning of our Palm Sunday service, it’s supposed to be fun. We’re welcoming our Servant-King with joy because we know how this story ends, right?  It ends with a proof of God’s love that defeats even death itself.  This story ends with life, with salvation; there’s no turmoil in it for us, is there?  But maybe, if nothing else, this story teaches us that we miss some important stuff if we jump to conclusions too quickly.  You see, I think that Jesus knows exactly the kind of trouble he’s causing, and I think he’s doing it on purpose.  

Of course, all four gospel writers tell this story.  Each of them finds a slightly nuanced meaning in it, so the stories don’t all have the same details.  And in Matthew’s version, we find a couple of facets to it that make it unique: one I’ve already mentioned is the turmoil that is caused as Jesus enters Jerusalem.  But the other is that part about the two donkeys.  The way that Matthew describes it, it sounds like Jesus is somehow riding two donkeys at the same time, doesn’t it?  It’s a strange mental picture: he’s somehow sitting on both the mother donkey and her colt at the same time, or maybe taking turns.  And although I’m not sure how we’re supposed to understand this, I think I know why Matthew is telling it this way; and I think it has to do with the prophet he quotes from.  The prophet is Zechariah and the passage is chapter nine, verse nine: “Rejoice greatly, O daughter Zion!  Shout aloud, O daughter Jerusalem!  Lo, your king comes to you; triumphant and victorious is he, and humble and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.”  

For those of us who weren’t there when Jesus rode into Jerusalem, Matthew helps us to make the connection between the prophet and this event; a connection that the people who were there seemed to obviously understand: that Jesus is this same king.  Zechariah goes on to say that this king would bring an end to all wars, bringing peace to even the ends of the earth.  But I don’t think that’s the part of Zechariah’s prophesy that the people were paying attention to.  Because Zechariah also says that God is going to take care of business, if you know what I mean.  There will be peace… but a peace that comes from God putting an end to all those who would oppress God’s people.  

On the one hand, I think Matthew wants us to know that Jesus is indeed the fulfillment of this prophecy.  But on the other hand, we also understand that this connection wasn’t made accidentally.  It’s not as though Jesus just happens to come riding into Jerusalem on one or more donkeys. “Oh no a parade?  For me?  You shouldn’t have.”  No, he stages this spectacle in order to point to Zechariah’s prophecy and proclaim himself king.  

It’s no wonder the people along the parade route respond the way they do, because this is how Jesus wanted them to respond.  He wanted them to see him as the king he was.  This was Jesus proclaiming the coming of his kingdom.  They are right to see in him the fulfillment of this prophesy because that’s why Jesus is doing it.  It was right for them to celebrate as Jesus entered Jerusalem because he is indeed the king they were waiting for.  And it is right for us to reenact that celebration today because he is that king and we are indeed subjects in his kingdom.  Only we must be careful, as we wave our palms and we shout our halleluiahs, to avoid making the same mistake they did.  

Matthew tells us that, when this parade got to Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil because of it.  And they had good reason to be in turmoil.   Remember, part of the prophesy Jesus was pointing to through this parade was about God conquering the enemies of God’s people; and at this point, the Romans were still in charge.  The people in the parade were celebrating the arrival of a new king, but the people in town were wondering what the current king might have to say about it.  

Of course, we know that the kingdom that Jesus proclaimed was no threat to the earthly rulers of the day.  His kingdom is about the reconciliation of creation itself to God.  We know what Jesus’ kingdom is about, but that doesn’t mean that today’s celebration shouldn’t also cause us turmoil.  

When Jesus entered Jerusalem, they celebrated him as their king because of what they thought he would do for them.  As it turns out, he had something in mind to do for them that was much, much better; but that’s beside the point.  Because if you think about it, is that any way to treat a king?  Is shouting halleluiah at the arrival of the king really appropriate if you’re only doing it because of what’s in it for you?  Our society doesn’t have real kings, but I think we can imagine what it’s supposed to be like: who is supposed to be the servant in the king/subject relationship?  We don’t welcome a king because of what he can do for us, do we?  Shouldn’t we welcome our king by doing whatever our king commands?  

The people of Jerusalem abandon Jesus by the end of the week because he doesn’t seem to meet their needs.  But if he were truly their king, it seems to me that someone ought to have asked him what he wanted from his subjects.  And if they did, I wonder if they might have heard him say: “You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them.  It will not be so among you; but whoever wishes to be great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be your slave; just as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.” [Matthew 20:25-28]

Friends as we enter this week, let us (at least virtually) shout praises to our king, for it is right and necessary for us to do so.  But let us proceed with caution: let us be careful to celebrate him, not just for what he does for us, but as our king; living in his kingdom, sharing his values, and serving as he has served us.