Sermon: Palm Sunday 3.16.08

Matthew 21:1–11

When they had come near Jerusalem and had reached Bethphage, at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, ²saying to them, "Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her; untie them and bring them to me. ³If anyone says anything to you, just say this, 'The Lord needs them.' And he will send them immediately." ⁴This took place to fulfill what had been spoken through the prophet, saying,
⁵"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."
⁶The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them; ⁷they brought the donkey and the colt, and put their cloaks on them, and he sat on them. ⁸A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. ⁹The crowds that went ahead of him and that followed were shouting,
"Hosanna to the Son of David!
Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!
Hosanna in the highest heaven!"
¹⁰When he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil, asking, "Who is this?" ¹¹The crowds were saying, "This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee."

What Revolution?

You know, to many folks, even some sitting here today, what we just did is pretty unusual. Comical, even. And I have a feeling it would have been slightly comical to those people in Jerusalem who were standing by the side of that road, watching this event happen some two thousand years ago.

Here comes this great processional! Rider and steed, attendants and arms, marching through the city streets to pomp and fanfare. Only, the processional isn’t that great. It’s a rider and donkey. There are attendants, but they aren’t robed in shiny armor, they don’t carry huge blades, spears, and pilates like the Roman soldiers of Pilate.

No, they’re a pretty sad lot walking into Jerusalem that day. Simple robes. Simple donkey. Simple announcement. No trumpets. No fanfare. No show of military or political power. Just…simple.

But that’s precisely the point.

You know, there are some scholars out there who think that this whole parade, this procession of palms, was actually a purposeful political joke Jesus was playing on the Roman government. You see, when a Roman governor or senator, or anyone with power, entered a city, they would often make a spectacle of it.

They would ride in on a grand steed, often a white steed, robed in armor and full cape. They would have attendants and servants flanking them, and going before and after, shouting out their name and calling attention to them. “Look! Here comes the great Herod.” Or “Look! Here comes the great Pilate, prelate of his majesty Ceaser!” And people would flock to the road to watch the procession. It was free entertainment.

So imagine the shock, imagine the surprise, imagine, even, the comical scene of Jesus astride a donkey entering the city. Except, this time, Jesus doesn’t come in the name of a Roman official, he doesn’t come in the name of some taxing politician, Jesus comes in the name of the Lord! Jesus comes in the name of the God who called David, their ancestor, to kingship. That same God who now calls Jesus to kingship. Kingship in spite of the rule of Herod, in spite of the rule of Pilate, in spite of the rule of Ceaser himself!

And the people, at first coming to see this comical scene, this person who comes in the name of the Lord, this man who comes not on a steed, but a donkey, not with a procession, but with a ragtag group of blue-collar workers, now start to wonder if this is actually it. They see the signs. They start to wonder if this is the beginning the revolution, the beginning of the new Zion.

And it is. But not as they want it to be. But not as they expect it to be. Jesus will be not just a revolutionary political figure, not just a revolutionary religious leader. Jesus will be the revolutionary God that they sought to know.

But, it will all happen in the shadows. It will all happen in that hidden way that God works. It will all happen in the opposite of how you think it should be.

You know, God works in mystery. God works in opposites. Here, as Lutherans, we truly believe this. Explain how a man riding in to town on a donkey is king, when there are tons of actual kings with actual power riding in on actual steeds every other week. Explain how the death of a 160 lb Jewish guy on a cross is actually the pivotal hinge that will change the trajectory of the world. Explain how God would give up power to die in solidarity with humanity, just so we could move past death to true life.

It can only be explained in paradox and mystery. It can only be explained in stating the fact that God is at work, as a weaver at a loom, stitching the lives of the world thread by thread. And individually, the threads don’t look like much, but there is a wonderful tapestry of salvation being woven.

Today we celebrate a thread of that tapestry, Jesus’ triumphant, if mysterious, if even comical, ride into Jerusalem, showing without a doubt, that God is not about white horses and armor clad guards, but about humility and greenery, about Hosannas and mystery.

As we head into holy week, let us take a look at our own lives. Are we about the things of God? Are we about humility and greenery, Hosannas and Alleluias? Do we look for God in the paradoxes, the mysteries of life? Or are we banking on white steeds and feats of power?

The Good News is, God in Jesus works in mystery. And the man who humbly rides on a donkey, is the powerful God who is beginning a revolution: the revolution of our hearts, of our minds, of our being to be united in God’s love.

The revolution of creation being brought back into relationship with God once again.

And that, my friends, is a revolution worth getting behind. That, my friends, is a revolution that will draw you in, as God’s love is shown this week in paradox, in opposites, in mystery. That, my friends, is truly good news.

Amen.