Of Kingdoms and Palms

Palm Sunday – Year B

March 29, 2015

Mark 11:1-11

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.

The journey of Lent is almost over. Today, we remember Jesus' entrance into Jerusalem. We celebrate that day with a parade; shouts of Hosanna! and the waving of palms will fill many a sanctuary this morning. Looking back through our memories, I'm sure all of us can remember different Palm Sunday parades and reenactments from our time in the church in previous years. What do you remember?

For me, probably the strongest memory of a Palm Sunday parade was the one I saw when I was visiting my parents in Papua New Guinea. It was during the time when my father was teaching at Logaweng Seminary, and the reenactment was put on by the students and their families. I remember a true parade. We walked all around the grounds of the seminary, slowly making our way to the church. I remember palms everywhere. (Of course, getting palms in New Guinea didn't require any cost, you just needed to have a knife to cut one from one of the plants growing everywhere.) I remember the blankets that were being draped on the ground. But, what is probably the strongest memory is of the two students who dressed up together to become the donkey that Jesus rode upon. It was the funniest looking donkey I have ever seen, but at the same time it was the most awesome one ever. A smile still comes to my face when I think of it.

As I have been reflecting and working on this week's message, I've been thinking about the way we approach today. Palm Sunday is a day that is often full of pomp and ceremony. There are few hymns that empowers a church more than 'All Glory Laud and Honor'. We imagine Jesus riding triumphantly into Jerusalem, the crowds of people gathering, throwing their clothes on the ground, cutting palms from nearby plants, shouting cries of welcome and praise. It's a powerful image, but is it the one that Jesus was seeking? What was his purpose in making the entrance he did into Jerusalem on that day?

One of the things I've come to realize is just how much of what happened was probably carefully planned out by Jesus, rather than being a chance event. Jesus chose the path, and entrance he took. There were other ways of going into Jerusalem; there were other roads, other gates to pass through. He chose this one. He sought out the colt, he may have even made arrangements for it ahead of time. Sure, the cries of the crowd seem to have happened without coaxing, but Jesus carefully orchestrated everything that happened up to that point. So, what was the point he was trying to make?

The people who wrote the stories we have in the Bible were great about putting lots of information in, but they were also great about leaving stuff out. Some of it was stuff they didn't think was important, some of it was information and details they just assumed everyone knew. Here, Mark doesn't tell us something, because he assumes that all of his readers know it. It was the time of Passover. Faithful Jews were flooding into the city from all over the region, and the Romans who were in control of the city were on high alert.

One of the traditions that the Romans had at Passover was to demonstrate their power to the Jews, to ensure that all those gathered to remember the overthrowing of the Egyptians years before wouldn't use Passover as an opportunity to try and overthrow their current oppressors. So, on the other side of Jerusalem, from the west, as Jesus entered from the east, Pilate also made his entrance. He made his entrance likely riding upon a warhorse, a giant of an animal, saddled in fine leather and maybe even trimmed with gold. He would have been surrounded by troops, row upon row of cavalry and soldiers. His entrance would have been heralded by trumpets. His entrance declared the worldly power of Rome. On the other side of town, Jesus makes his entrance. Seated upon a colt, saddled with blankets. Surrounded not by soldiers, but by children. Heralded not by trumpets, but voices. Jesus' entrance was a declaration about the Kingdom of God.

Jesus' entrance is a powerful piece of political and cultural satire. “...Jesus lampoons the “powers that be” and their pretensions to glory and dominion, and he enacts an alternative to their way of domination. Riding on the colt, his feet possibly dragging on the ground, Jesus comes not as one who lords his authority over others, but as one who humbly rejects domination. He comes not with pomp and wealth, but as one who identified with the poor. He comes not as a mighty warrior, but as one who is vulnerable and refuses to rely on violence. Jesus here takes the role of jester, who enacts in a humorous, disorienting way a totally different understanding of “rule” and invites people to see and live in the world in a new way.”¹

Palm Sunday is a celebration of Jesus' entry into Jerusalem, but it is also a time to remind ourselves that Jesus' way is not the way of the world; that Jesus' words and actions were often in opposition to the powers of the world. Jesus' message was truly subversive. And the church that models itself after him should also be subversive. Unfortunately, in far too many ways and places the church has lost its subversive edge and become indistinguishable from the world in which it lives. We are to live in the world, but not be a part of it. So, how have we come to be so comfortable in it? When was the last time you felt yourself threatened because you declared yourself a follower of Jesus? The church began as a counter-cultural declaration that God's ways are not the ways of the world, we were a model of non-conformity, yet today the church conforms itself to the secular world as it seeks “success”. Churches have become like the very temple where Jesus overturned the tables, with bookstores and cafeterias, play spaces for children. We would likely rarely call ourselves subversive, if anything, we would seek to avoid the label of being radical or subversive.

With the exception of the Quakers and Menonnites, it's the rare church that can claim to be antiwar. When our country goes to war, it is all too often the churches that are loudest voices of support. The church that clings to pacificism will quickly find itself in the crosshairs of the community. War is good business, and we glorify it and it's fighters. Where do we find the church that lives by Jesus' words to Peter that we put away the sword, that we turn the other cheek?

Churches throughout our country have soup kitchens, send money to groups of all kinds to support the poor that surround us; but where is the church that challenges the very economic system that creates poverty? Christians run for public office on a declaration of faith, then fight against raising wages to a livable level. Do we truly want to help the poor, or make ourselves feel good about helping those with less than us – while doing nothing to truly solve why they have less?

Our society desires conformity, can the church become a place where nonconformity, where doubt and questions are allowed? Can we admire and support our President, but hate their decisions? “What if a follower of Jesus objects to the assassination of notorious terrorists without trial by jury? What if one no longer believes in hell but is afraid to say so in church?”² The church has unfortunately become a place where if you do not agree with the majority, you are escorted to an exit. Crowds at Harvard booed when it was suggested that they pray for Richard Nixon during his presidency; Billy Graham was booed by many (all-white) churches in the South when he announced he would no longer preach to segregated audiences. How dare the church be a place where we cannot find our own attitudes and biases being echoed from the pulpit?

On a day almost 2000 years ago, Jesus entered into Jerusalem riding on a colt, declaring himself as other than Pilate, as other than the powers of the world. The kingdom he was announcing was different, it was run according to different rules, it sought to subvert the world that was. Jesus' declaration of difference did not come to an end with the rise of the power of the church in society, it has simply been drowned out and watered down. We are still called to be a place that offers a new way, a different way, a counter-cultural message that practices non-violence, radical hospitality, reckless generosity, an extravagant welcome to all God's children.

We are called to preach the good news to the world, and if our good news is not heard as bad news by the powers that be, then we must look again at the message we are preaching. Rather than fighting about the doctrines of the church, arguing about which theological perspective is correct or “more biblical”, let's get out there and follow in the steps of Jesus and show the world how different we are.

It will be messy, chaotic, and full of energy as we seek to find ways to love God and neighbor in this time and place. “We will come together from many different places and traditions to tell our story in a place where people consider listening to be one of the sacraments. The only thing we'll have in common is the desire to follow Jesus and then trust in the power of grace to save us. Wherever his spirit leads us we will go, and if that means doing subversive things for the cause of love, then so be it. If it means throwing a stone, like David, against the Goliath that is fear and hatred, then so be it. We have never been asked to calculate the chances of success and then make a decision. We have only been asked to do what is right, what is merciful, what is just.”³

Grab your palms, join the parade, declare yourself to be a citizen of God's kingdom, rather than that of the world. Climb on your colt, rather than sitting upon the mighty steed. Be led by the cries of children, rather than the beating of profit or sword. Raise your voice against the voices of the world, and cry out, “Hosanna! Hosanna in the highest!” Amen.

1p. 157, Feasting on the Word, Year B Volume 2, edited by Bartlett and Taylor, WJK Press

2p.215, The Underground Church, by Robin Meyers, pub. by Josey-Bass

3p. 247, The Underground Church, by Robin Meyers, pub. by Josey-Bass