Two Processions: A Palm Sunday Meditation

Today starts a time that is the holiest week on the church calendar. Palm Sunday is the beginning of a series of events that changed the course of human history for all of time. Today in the Gospel lesson we see a triumphant king, adored by his followers, enter the gates of Jerusalem to the shouts of, "Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord — the King of Israel!" (John 12:13)

Jesus was here to cast aside the Roman oppressors and to restore Israel to its former glory. He was going to fight the system that was holding down the Jewish people so that they could live and worship freely as the chosen people of God, no longer under the rule of the Roman government. But that is not at all what Jesus had planned to do, and I am sure then, just like now, many people were very disappointed to see that Jesus was not some warrior king there to fight the Romans. As a matter of fact, Jesus wanted to make it clear that he was nothing like them — so much so that his entrance into Jerusalem was a staged, peaceful, counter-protest.

But why was Jesus in Jerusalem in the first place? Just as Holy Week is a sacred week for Christians, Palm Sunday starts a sacred week for the Jewish people as well — it is the start of the Jewish Passover. Jesus was in Jerusalem to commemorate the Passover, but he was not the only high-profile figure there, and the crowds would be treated to two competing processions: one the procession of a peasant, the other the procession of an imperial governor.

Let's take a look at this account from the Gospel of Mark:

"When they were approaching Jerusalem, at Bethphage and Bethany, near the Mount of Olives, he sent two of his disciples and said to them, 'Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately as you enter it, you will find tied there a colt that has never been ridden; untie it and bring it. If anyone says to you, "Why are you doing this?" just say this, "The Lord needs it and will send it back here immediately."' They went away and found a colt tied near a door, outside in the street. As they were untying it, some of the bystanders said to them, 'What are you doing, untying the colt?' They told them what Jesus had said; and they allowed them to take it. Then they brought the colt to Jesus and threw their cloaks on it; and he sat on it. Many people spread their cloaks on the road, and others spread leafy branches that they had cut in the fields. Then those who went ahead and those who followed were shouting, 'Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David! Hosanna in the highest heaven!' Then he entered Jerusalem and went into the temple; and when he had looked around at everything, as it was already late, he went out to Bethany with the twelve."

To give you a better picture of what is happening in this Gospel lesson, I am going to read a portion of *The Last Week: What the Gospels Really Teach About Jesus's Final Days in Jerusalem* by Marcus Borg and John Crossan:

"From the east, Jesus rode a donkey down the Mount of Olives, cheered by his followers. Jesus was from the peasant village of Nazareth; his message was about the kingdom of God; and his followers came from the peasant class. They had journeyed to Jerusalem from Galilee, about a hundred miles to the north — a journey that is the central section and the central dynamic of Mark's gospel. Mark's story of Jesus and the kingdom of God has been aiming for Jerusalem, pointing towards Jerusalem. It has now arrived.

On the opposite side of the city, from the west, Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor of Idumea, Judea, and Samaria, entered Jerusalem at the head of a column of imperial cavalry and soldiers. Jesus's procession proclaimed the kingdom of God; Pilate's proclaimed the power of empire. The two processions embody the central conflict of the week that led to Jesus's crucifixion."

You have the Prince of Peace on one side of the city and the example of military might on the opposite side. The meaning of what is taking place is clear, and according to the prophet Zechariah, a king would be coming to Jerusalem. Zechariah tells the people to expect a king who is humble and riding a donkey (Zech. 9:9), and Mark makes the connection very clear. In the Gospel of Matthew the connection is made as well: "Tell the daughter of Zion, look, your king is coming to you, humble, and mounted on a donkey, and on a colt, the foal of a donkey" (Matt. 21:5).

But what is interesting is what we see in the rest of the passage in Zechariah: "He will cut off the chariot from Ephraim and the war-horse from Jerusalem; and the battle bow shall be cut off, and he shall command peace to all nations" (Zech. 9:10). Jesus, the king entering on a donkey, will be responsible for stopping war from the land — no more chariots, war-horses, or bows. Jesus is not a warrior king, but a king of peace wanting to put a stop to war and violence, not in some distant future lifetime, but in the here and now.

As I was preparing for this week's sermon, the Palm Sunday sermon, I couldn't help but think of the two different perspectives we are given: a peaceful king and a warrior king. Jesus and Pilate. As I was reflecting on these two men, I couldn't help but think about how disappointed some people must have been in Jesus's time. They were tired of being oppressed and they wanted someone to take on their oppressor. All of the hope that they had in warrior Jesus was cast away when he entered Jerusalem on the donkey. But Jesus's message was clear — he was not, and is not, the God who was going to conquer through war, but instead he would conquer through peace and through his love.

Those words seem almost strange to type coming off of a week of three mass shootings and those on the religious right advocating for more guns on the street and less gun control. You see, we are not very different from the people who expected Jesus to smite those who disagreed with him. As the Capitol was being stormed, it was being done by people who were carrying signs that proclaimed "Jesus Saves." What an ironic message as you are storming the seat of government.

There is no doubt that we are living in a time where our nation is deeply divided, not only by political issues but also around the idea of who Jesus really is. On one side you have those who believe that Jesus is a triumphant warrior who at any time is going to come back and fight a glorious battle against evil. These people spend their time calling out sin in people's lives, pointing out who is going to hell and who isn't, and they are not afraid to tell you why you are not really a Christian.

On the other side you have people who believe that Jesus is a peaceful, loving God, who once and for all will destroy all war and violence, who wants us to take care of our neighbor and to spread his message of peace and love to all we encounter.

Truth be told, I used to be part of the first group of people. I believed that Jesus was a masculine man who wanted us to be manly men in his image — never showing emotion and making sure that people knew what sin was, and whether they were going to hell or not. I believed that we had an obligation to point out sin, and if we didn't, we would allow people to go to hell. I lived in fear of God and what would happen if I messed up. After all, God was a vengeful God who expected obedience from his followers. I followed Jesus because I was afraid of him. What a way to live — and not at all matching the picture of the guy riding a donkey into Jerusalem.

Then I entered chaplaincy. Hospital chaplaincy changed my life and my ministry in so many ways. Spending time with families who had just lost their loved ones, or with patients who were taking their final breaths, allowed me to see what really mattered. It showed me that no matter what you believed, the most important thing to you as you are taking your last breath is to know that you are loved — loved by your family and loved by God. All that other stuff didn't matter. And it was in those moments, those most sacred moments, that I began to encounter God, the real God. Not the God that we have created to fit our nationalist ideals in America, but the God of peace and comfort. The God that says to us, "Peace I leave with you; My peace I give to you… Do not let your heart be troubled, nor let it be fearful."

We all unfortunately have a habit of doing the reverse of what God did in creation when he formed us in his image; instead, we have a tendency to form God in our own image. We make him the God that we want him to be. So this week I am challenging myself, and I am challenging each of you, as we take this journey to the Cross with Jesus, to put aside our notions of who he is and allow the scriptures of this week to speak to us — to reveal the true image of God to us, so that we can better know him and serve him.

Let us pray.

*Almighty and everlasting God, you made the universe with all its marvelous order, its atoms, worlds, and galaxies, and the infinite complexity of living creatures: Grant that, as we probe the mysteries of your creation, we may come to know you more truly, and more surely fulfill our role in your eternal purpose; in the name of Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.*