I’ve been leading pilgrimages to the Holy Land for a while now and I hope to return again this fall. I’ve had the extraordinary good fortune to stand in the Palm Sunday Church in Beth Phagee—“the house of the little fig” – at least ten times. Today an ecumenical procession of pilgrims has already made its way from that Church to the Mount of Olives, and from there into the old city of Jerusalem, amid shouts of “hosanna.” It is a life-transforming experience to walk in those places.
Even so, we don’t have to travel halfway around the world, nor two thousand years back in time, to enter into the deep mystery of this day’s events. Our liturgy today seeks to replicate that same drama in order to bring us closer and to make the story more real. Our goal is not only to better understand what happened once upon a time, but what is happening in the world in which we live, right now. For we believe that this is God’s world and that the story of God’s love continues to unfold even now, even in this unsteady and confusing world.
And so the story begins in Beth-Phagee, where Jesus and his disciples have finally arrived after having left Galilee and the Mount of the Transfiguration to make their way to Jerusalem. Some scholars argue that another parade was happening across town at the other end of the holy city and that’s important to say. That other parade was a display of Roman imperial power, as Pontius Pilate rode into the city with horse and chariot and shining armor and the brass bands were playing John Philip Sousa marches. The Romans are worried that in the holy season when pilgrims came from all over the land to the Temple to remember that old, old story of the Exodus that a riot might break out, that someone might start chanting, “let my people go!” And so they are showing their force to try to make sure no one gets any crazy ideas.
The central religious event of this week, Passover, is centered on that Exodus story. Now I suppose that it possible to spiritualize the Exodus narrative to the point where it no longer has any relevance to the “real” world and that would have suited Caesar and his man in Palestine, Pontius Pilate, just fine. As long as the Exodus story can be confined to the distant past and remembered only as something that happened long ago, then it is of little concern to the Romans. It’s just a nice little story the Jews remember with a Seder meal. Who cares? Pass the matzoh, please…
But the point of the story is that it isn’t meant to be confined to Seder prayers: it’s a story about God’s work in the world. It’s a never-ending story about the move from slavery to freedom, a story meant to inspire both hope and action. The old story of the Exodus that is remembered every Passover tells of how God was with a tiny band of slaves to lead them out of the bondage of Egyptian imperial power by tossing horse and rider into the sea.
Now if the Jews who are gathered in Jerusalem begin to connect the dots and see how similar Roman imperial power is to Egyptian imperial power that might lead to an insurrection. The normal response of imperial power, when it feels threatened, is to instill fear. If you have all the power then you make sure people stay very afraid. Frightened people can’t think straight. So maybe that is what that parade on the other side of town is all about: intimidation. Making it clear who’s in charge.
What then, can we say of our little parade from Beth-Phagee to Jerusalem? What exactly is Jesus up to? I want to propose that it’s a protest march and that today as you’ve come to church that is what you have participated in: not a parade so much as a march, a demonstration. A rally.
Jesus is mocking what is happening on the other side of town the way he always does, by acting out a parable to remind his disciples and anyone with eyes to see that all imperial power is temporal and that all empires will come to an end. He draws on Old Testament language from Zechariah 9 and Psalm 118: so that in the context of this Passover festival he seems to be suggesting that God is about to do a new thing. Hosanna, Son of David, the people cry, remembering that David was king over Israel and Jerusalem was his capital city and that the Messiah is supposed to come into the city to bring about regime change.
The Gospels tend to give Pilate a bit of a free pass. Most scholars think this is because by the time they were finally written down, the last thing that the early Christian community wanted was a full-frontal assault against Rome. By the time the gospels are written down, the Temple has been destroyed by the Roman authorities because of a Jewish insurrection. Rome responds with the military might at its disposal. So even though we will hear today in Luke’s Passion Narrative that Pilate just wants to flog Jesus and then let him go, we need to hear that with critical and discerning ears. In Matthew’s Gospel, we get that famous image of Pilate washing his hands.
The suggestion seems to be that
this was all the fault of the Jewish Temple; that they forced Pilate into this.
But almost certainly that isn’t how it went down. Almost certainly, Pilate took
care of business in the way that imperial power always does, by letting someone
else do his dirty work. He wanted, and got, “plausible deniability” that
allowed him to publicly wash his hands of the whole mess. But don’t be fooled,
as the people of Jesus own day and the early Christians certainly were not
fooled. They knew that Pilate was not a good man who lacked the courage
to stand up to the Temple authorities, but a grand manipulator who has plenty
of blood on his hands that no amount of handwashing could ever get rid of.
What this day is really about is a clash of kingdoms: will it be Caesar or Christ? Will it be the Pax Romana, a peace that is at best an absence of war, or the Pax Christi, the peace of God that passes all understanding? You can’t sit this one out! You can’t sit in the middle of Jerusalem to wait and see what happens. Who is Lord over our lives? These are two very different cultures: one is about the love of power and the other is about the power of love. Which side are you on?
By Friday we’ll see how it all turns out. Or at least we will see what always seems to happen: the forces of evil will align to destroy Jesus and try to silence him. When people get out of line that is what you do: you stir up an angry mob to have them killed. Or you disappear them. End of story.
Except, as it turns out, the best they can do is kill him and yet that is not the end of the story. Friday’s sorrow gives way to Saturday waiting, which ultimately yields to Sunday’s surprising joy. Please come back next Sunday to hear that part of the story but I suspect you all know what’s coming…
In our own day, separating church and state doesn’t mean that religion is only about spiritual matters. The gospel we proclaim has profound implications for our political and economic choices. Claiming Jesus as Lord transcends and critiques all of our political loyalties and ideologies. As Jim Wallis has said, God isn’t a Democrat or a Republican. But when we say, not just today but every week when we gather to break the bread: Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord we are declaring our allegiance to Christ. We are making a political claim that Jesus is Lord, not Pharaoh, not Caesar, not any one who claims to be king.
Ultimately we remember that this “Son of David” is “king of kings and lord of lords.” And he shall reign forever and ever. As we once more walk this journey of Holy Week, and in particular the three holy days of this coming week, we are not going back in time. We are being re-membered, re-formed, re-newed by the Paschal Mystery. We are being taken once more to the very heart of our faith and the affirmation and insistence that death does not get the last word. Not this time.
Not ever. Love is stronger than death.
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