Gracious God, as we step into this Holy Week, may we find moments to pause, to remember, honor, and learn from the faithful path that Jesus walked. And may you guide us, in this time, as we ponder for ourselves what it means in this season of our lives to follow in his way. Amen.
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Passover was approaching and Jerusalem was abuzz with activity. The temple, the city streets, and the surrounding area were swarming with pilgrims who were visiting for the festival. Jesus and his disciples were among them. They were all there to remember and celebrate the story of their people’s liberation from Pharaoh’s Egypt. They were there praying for their own liberation as well – some from personal struggles, but also collectively as a people.
Jesus was there, as both a pilgrim and a prophet, to proclaim that God’s liberating love was still active in this world. He was building a movement (of which we are a part) founded on this liberating love and centered in the possibility that this love can continue to transform this world if we allow it, if we invite it in – if we let it soak into our bones, inspire our living, bring us together into community as a diverse people, animate our work together, and lead us toward just and peaceful coexistence.
The Roman Governor, Pontius Pilate, came to town for Passover too, drawn away (possibly reluctantly) from his nice seaside villa. He was obligated to “keep the peace” (by force, if necessary). Jerusalem could get tense sometimes. And Passover was a time when the Romans were particularly wary of insurrections, uprisings, and other shenanigans against the empire. So, into town Pilate rode astride his war horse, surrounded by soldiers and pageantry, in an intimidating display of Roman power.
The Pax Romana (the so-called, Roman Peace) built by Caesar Augustus several decades earlier was really quite fragile. Imperial control was not popular among those whose lives, lands, and livelihoods had been co-opted and repurposed for Rome. It was a kind of peace for the privileged, but not peace for the peasant – not peace for any who dare question the empire’s motives or authority. It brought prosperity for the elite Roman class, but poverty for many. It was a “peace” that was maintained through domination and a constant threat of violence.
Rome was neither the first human imperial experiment, nor the last. But if we are to understand Jesus and the Kingdom of God that he envisioned, embodied, and prayed would come to fulfillment “on earth as it is in heaven,” then we have to understand something about Rome because Jesus’ vision about how the world could be and should be stands in sharp contrast.
People knew what Roman rule was like. They lived under it every day. Jesus wanted to help them imagine an alternative possibility.
And Palm Sunday was part of this work of imagination. More than just an impromptu welcome parade into Jerusalem, this was a teaching moment. Jesus, with the help of his disciples and others who were there that day, orchestrated a public demonstration (that was both theological and political) that stood in opposition to Pilate’s display of Roman power. The first Palm Sunday was an anti-imperial protest march.
And Jesus took his inspiration from the anti-imperial messianic imagination of the Hebrew prophet Zechariah.
“Rejoice greatly, O daughter Zion!” proclaimed Zechariah. “Shout aloud, O daughter Jerusalem! See, your king comes to you; triumphant and victorious is he, humble and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.” That’s where Matthew’s quote ends, but Zechariah continues, “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 the nations; his dominion shall be from sea to sea and from the River to the ends of the earth.” (Zechariah 9:9-10)
Instead of preaching on Zechariah or telling a story about Zechariah’s prophetic vision, Jesus decided to act it out. We’re used to Jesus telling parables as teaching stories, but Palm Sunday is a parable in action – an embodied illustration, a drama that brings to life an image of God’s Reign, ushered in by God’s anointed one – a reign of true peace that would disrupt the machinery of war.
And, of course, there are many direct contrasts to Pilate’s demonstration of Roman power as he rode into Jerusalem (which very likely could have been happening at the same time on the other side of town). That intentional timing by Jesus makes sense.
Pilate rode a war horse. Jesus rode a colt, a young donkey (or perhaps a colt and its mother – which seems potentially difficult and possibly humorous – only Matthew adds in the mama donkey; the other gospels just mention the colt).
The Roman soldiers carried swords and spears, weapons of war, tools of intimidation. The Jesus crowd carried leafy branches and laid them out along the road, along with their cloaks. The Romans were putting on a display of the power of empire as authority. The Jesus crowd was putting on a display of the power of the people as community. Pilate was pointing to Caesar’s reign of domination, propped up by fear and violence. Jesus was pointing to God’s reign of peace, made possible by just and equitable relationship and collaboration.
For Caesar, leadership was all about hanging onto power, exercising control over the populous, building wealth, and expanding territory. Jesus taught that leadership was service – just flip back one chapter in Matthew and you’ll find him teaching his disciples that the affirmation they desire is actually to be found in servanthood – not self-interest, but selflessness. The Jesus way is not focused on personal ambition and achievement, but on loving and serving others.
I doubt Pilate’s processional was very loud. Most people probably just wanted to quietly get out of the way and not get cornered by the pointy end of a spear. The loud crowd was over with Jesus, shouts of “Hosanna!” echoing in the air. “Save us!” It was heartfelt prayer; it was also joyful praise; and it was a proclamation of their faith in God’s faithfulness, in the possibility that God’s reign could come to fuller expression in their world.
The whole city is “in turmoil” as they enter the Jerusalem gates, according to Matthew. This demonstration has caused a stir. “Who is this?” people asked. “This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee.”
Prophet is a fitting description. Jesus has been engaging in prophetic activity as he acts out Zechariah’s vision. It is a prophetic act to bear witness to the possibility of another way of life – a just world, a peaceful world. It is a prophetic act to proclaim hope and faith in God’s goodness and love, even in the midst of hardship. It is a prophetic act to build up community and encourage collaboration – in direct defiance of forces that seek isolation and division for the sake of maintaining power. It is a prophetic act to call others to join in their own acts of prophetic witness and work. Jesus wasn’t looking to have a parade for himself; he was building a movement. Imperial power is threatened by community collaboration.
And Jesus would continue this prophetic work throughout the last week of his earthly life: As he disrupted temple business to draw attention to its collaboration with Rome. As he healed the sick. As he taught the spiritually hungry. As he told more stories about the Kingdom of God. As he shared the Passover meal with his disciples and reframed it for them as a way to remember him and for them to be nourished, inspired, and strengthened by the still-liberating love of God. God who would not abandon them in their hour of need, even when their faith faltered.
Jesus was building a movement. And yet, it was difficult for his first disciples and followers to stick with him and follow him down the hardest paths. I don’t think Jesus went to Jerusalem planning to end up on a Roman cross. But he did know his prophetic ministry and witness was risky and dangerous. Prophetic witness is still risky and dangerous.
And we are still faced with the question of how we participate in the movement Jesus began. He wasn’t just putting on a show. He wasn’t looking for spectators to stand on the sidelines. He was looking for participants and collaborators in this work of liberating love, in the building up of community, in living toward his vision of life how it could be, how it should be.
And the reality is we still struggle with some of the same challenges and dynamics that Jesus and his first followers faced. Imperial ideology is still alive and well. So is religious collaboration with empire. Economic disparity. Violence and war. Inhumanity.
I sometimes wonder if we’ll ever really work our way out of these harmful patterns.
And yet, from the beginning, and throughout the centuries, in the midst of these same challenges, people have responded to the call and followed in the Way of Jesus (even when it has been hard) – with love, with courage, with joy, with hope, and with faith. And people are still responding to this call in all sorts of ways to this day. Sometimes it makes the news. Sometimes it doesn’t. But it’s happening every day.
When people serve those in need – feeding the hungry, sheltering the unhoused, tending to the needs of the abused and abandoned, serving the sick, caring for creation.
When people stand up for human rights for all people. When people strive to protect their immigrant neighbors from abuse. When people call for an end to racial profiling. When people work for diplomacy, peacemaking, and an end to war. When people stand up for democracy in the face of imperial ideology. When people call for government and societal structures that serve the real needs of real people, rather than a privileged few.
When people challenge the notion that only some people are worthy and deserving of dignity, that only some people belong, and instead build communities where there is room for everyone, communities that value the cultures and gifts that diverse individuals contribute to the whole, communities where there is plenty to go around and collaboration (not competition) is the name of the game.
In the prophetic Way of Jesus, love and justice go hand in hand. The personal and the public go hand in hand. Responding to other’s immediate needs with service and seeking to build a better world for all go hand in hand.
This is ongoing work. Jesus knew that. He knew it wasn’t just up to him. That’s why he built a movement. That’s why he embodied a prophetic vision of hope, and invited people to join him in that vision, and invited them to help bring that vision into fuller expression in their lifetimes. With courage (even in the face of danger, even in the midst of fear), Jesus led all who would follow him into Jerusalem, into the heart of the matter, into the place of both conflict and possibility.
It’s symbolic of the journey we all must take if we seek to follow Jesus.
Every year when we wave our palm branches and sing our hosannas, we do our own little prophetic reenactment of this prophetic vision of possibility. So, today, let us wave our palms with hope, with joy, with courage, with faith, and with commitment to follow in the Way of Jesus wherever it may lead us today, this Holy Week, this year, this lifetime.
Amen.