Passion Sunday
Preaching
Lectionary Preaching Workbook
Series VIII, Cycle B
Revised Common
Isaiah 50:4-9a
Philippians 2:5-11
Mark 11:1-11 or Mark 14:1--15:47 or Mark 15:1-39 (40-47)
Roman Catholic
Isaiah 50:4-7
Philippians 2:6-11
Mark 14:1--15:47
Episcopal
Isaiah 45:21-25 or Isaiah 52:13--53:12
Philippians 2:5-11
Mark (14:32-72) 15:1-39 (40-47)
Theme For The Day
When Jesus enters our lives, he demands a response.
Old Testament Lesson
Isaiah 50:4-9a
The Third Servant Song
In this, the third of his famous servant songs, Isaiah portrays a mysterious figure who has been given "the tongue of a teacher, that [he] may know how to sustain the weary with a word" (v. 4) This suffering servant, however, appears to communicate more by deeds than by words: "I gave my back to those who struck me, and my cheeks to those who pulled out the beard; I did not hide my face from insult and spitting" (v. 6). This is a truly tough, resilient individual: "I have set my face like flint, and I know that I shall not be put to shame ..." (v. 7). The servant is able to persevere because he knows he is not alone: "he who vindicates me is near" (v. 8). In verse 8, Isaiah introduces a courtroom setting: the servant dares his adversaries to contend against him -- for his defense attorney is none other than the Lord God (v. 9a). The scholarly debate over the identity of the suffering servant in these songs of Isaiah will probably never end. The church, of course, looks to these songs and sees Jesus (indeed, at times the resemblance between the details of the servant's torture and that of Jesus is uncanny) -- yet the text also had to have a meaning apparent to the people of Isaiah's own day. Absent a fully developed messianic hope at this time in history, scholarly consensus seems to be that, for Isaiah, the servant is an idealized version of the people of Israel.
New Testament Lesson
Philippians 2:5-11
Christ Emptied Himself, Taking The Form Of A Servant
Today's Epistle Lesson is one of the treasures of the first-century church: the famous kenosis passage from Paul's letter to the Philippians. This is undoubtedly an early Christian hymn, well known to Paul's readers, which the apostle embeds in the text of his letter. The word kenosis, or self-emptying, refers to verse 7, in which we read that Christ "emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness." This early hymn displays a dramatic movement of descent, followed by ascent. Christ begins in the heavenly places, but sheds every heavenly prerogative in order to take on human life. He becomes not only human, but steps into the lowest position imaginable in human society: a slave and a criminal, suffering capital punishment imposed by the state. Then, from the low point, the ascent begins. God lifts him up, exalting him to the heights, so that heaven and earth will one day bow the knee before him. Christ is described as the actor in the first, "descent" portion of the poem -- this is self-sacrifice, after all -- but after that, it is God who is the actor, raising up this completely self-emptied individual and filling him once again.
Palms Or Passion?
Depending on the degree of flexibility present in their liturgical tradition, lectionary preachers have an important choice this Sunday: between using the assigned Gospel Lesson for Palm Sunday or one of the two longer, Passion Sunday readings. The difference, of course, is that the Palm Sunday lesson is limited to Jesus' triumphal entry into Jerusalem, and the Passion Sunday lesson is a longer narrative, telling of Jesus' trial before Pilate and death on the cross. Some pastors go even further, using this Sunday for an extended reading of the entire Passion narrative in lieu of a sermon. Passion Sunday sermons typically focus on a smaller portion of whichever Gospel Lesson is being read that day (since it is difficult to do justice to the extended reading in a single sermon).
The choice is complicated by the fact that, in many churches, attendance at Maundy Thursday and Good Friday services has declined in recent years, so the only opportunity many church members have to hear of Jesus' suffering and death is this Sunday before Easter. All too many modern Christians go directly from the "Hosannas" of Palm Sunday to the "Alleluias" of Easter -- without ever stopping anywhere else in between. This makes Holy Week appear to be a rollicking good time: all sugar and no vinegar, all light and no darkness.
That is, of course, a distorted view: not only of the gospel, but of life in general. If the Sunday before Easter has a purely triumphal tone, emphasizing the spirited exuberance of the palm procession and little else, then an important part of the story will go unheard by many. On the other hand, many congregations have long-established traditions focusing on the palm procession, and the displacement of these traditions by a Passion Sunday observance would be acutely felt.
Pastoral sensitivity is required, either way. If the choice is Palm Sunday, then including some mention of Jesus' suffering and death is essential. If it is Passion Sunday, then flexibility that honors local Palm Sunday traditions is also of great value.
The Gospel -- Palm Sunday
Mark 11:1-11
Jesus' Triumphal Entry
Ironically, John's version of the story of Jesus' triumphal entry (John 12:12-19) is the only one that mentions palm branches -- and John's version never comes up in the lectionary. Here in Mark's version, Jesus sends some representatives ahead of him to secure a colt. Once they assure its owner that Jesus needs it (and will return it), he relents. (In Luke's version, by contrast, the phrase "The Lord has need of it" appears to be some kind of pre-arranged password; there is no mention of a promise to return the animal, for this would not have been necessary if the use of the beast had been agreed upon ahead of time.) Since Jesus never refers to himself as "Lord" elsewhere in Mark's Gospel, the appearance of that word in the statement, "The Lord needs it," is noteworthy. The people spread "leafy branches" out before him; there's no specific mention of palms (as in John's Gospel) -- which would have had the specific connotation of Jewish nationalism -- although it's possible that Mark's readers would have understood these leafy branches to be palms. Nor is there any mention of crowds from the city coming out to welcome Jesus -- the procession could (and, in this version, probably is) comprised mostly of his entourage. The spreading of cloaks on the road probably refers to an ancient coronation custom described in 2 Kings 9:13. The cry of the people is "Hosanna!" -- literally, "Save us!" The full quotation, "Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord" comes from Psalm 118:25-26, a royal psalm that was also traditionally sung by pilgrims as they entered the city. It would have had connotations of pilgrims coming into the city in any event, but the addition of the royal accoutrements means that Jesus' followers are also invoking the enthronement connotations.
The Gospel -- Passion Sunday
Mark 14:1--15:47 or Mark 15:1-39 (40-47)
The longer Passion Sunday reading includes the following pericopes:
The Plot To Kill Jesus (14:1-2)
The Anointing At Bethany (14:3-9)
Judas Agrees To Betray Jesus (14:10-11)
The Passover With The Disciples (14:12-21)
The Institution Of The Lord's Supper (14:22-25)
Peter's Denial Foretold (14:26-31)
Jesus Prays In Gethsemane (14:32-42)
The Betrayal And Arrest of Jesus (14:43-51)
Jesus Before The Council (14:53-65)
Peter Denies Jesus (14:66-72)
Jesus Before Pilate (15:1-5)
Pilate Hands Jesus Over To Be Crucified (15:6-15)
The Soldiers Mock Jesus (15:16-20)
The Crucifixion Of Jesus (15:21-32)
The Death Of Jesus (15:33-41)
The Burial Of Jesus (15:42-47)
The shorter Passion Sunday reading includes just the trial and the crucifixion.
Preaching Possibilities
(Note: The following comments refer to a Palm Sunday sermon on Mark 11:1-11.)
A fundamental question for the preacher, when it comes to this well-documented public event in Jesus' life, is "What is it?" Is it a genuine outpouring of affection and respect on the part of the capital city's residents, who will turn on him as soon as the political winds change? Is it a well-orchestrated effort by Jesus' supporters to advance his cause, amidst a curious but not altogether supportive populace? Or is it what some have called an act of revolutionary street theater -- a political demonstration satirizing those with pretensions to power, an act deliberately calculated to provoke a certain degree of hostility on the part of the ruling authorities?
Combined study of the four gospels' differing accounts of this incident, using a tool such as Gospel Parallels, is extremely fruitful. From such a study it becomes clear that each writer has a slightly different interpretation of the meaning of this very public event. There are numerous factual differences as well, some more significant than others. While it may be difficult (not to mention confusing, for the sermon's listeners) to introduce much of this parallel material, it is advisable that the sermon focus on one text or the other -- rather than on a harmonization that does justice to none of them.
So what is this event, as Mark describes it? Some commentators have claimed that the people of Jerusalem were hailing Jesus as a conquering political / military hero, but that's extremely unlikely. The people of Jerusalem knew what military parades were all about -- particularly Roman military parades. Typically, the victorious general would ride in, driving a chariot or sitting astride a magnificent warhorse. Around him would march legions upon legions of his troops -- all looking forward to "a hot time in the old town tonight," in the tradition of soldiers from time immemorial. Also in the procession -- barefoot, in chains, whipped along by overseers -- would be the prisoners of war: miserable unfortunates who, after they'd been displayed to the cheering multitude, were not long for this world.
Jesus is no general, and his followers no professional army. The very way he rides into the city -- on a donkey (as it says in the Gospel of John) or on a colt (as it says here in Mark, and also in Luke), or on both a donkey and a colt (as it says in Matthew) -- was hardly the sort of conveyance favored by the rich and powerful.
So what is Jesus doing, with his triumphal entry, if he doesn't intend to lead an armed insurrection? Very likely, he is making fun of the powers-that-be. He is engaging in what some commentators today have called "street theater" -- a satirical demonstration that lampoons the mighty and self-important. Jesus is a religious reformer, who wants to call the Jewish people back to the true worship of God. By revealing how insignificant and ridiculous the civil rulers appear in God's eyes, he is hoping to focus the people's devotion on what's truly important.
It's a very dangerous strategy. Jesus knows he could end up dead -- and in fact, as we all know, that's exactly what did happen, in a matter of days. There was simply too much money, too much power, riding on the status quo for an upstart rabbi from the provinces to be permitted to call the whole system into question.
In Jerusalem, the palm branches -- if, indeed, that's the type of branch the people are waving -- have a particular meaning. Palms are the symbol of Judas Maccabeus and his followers: Jewish revolutionaries, who more than a century earlier briefly overthrew the Seleucid Greek rulers. Waving palm branches is a symbol, to Jewish Zealots, of their desire for a new Judas Maccabeus to come forward, and overthrow the Romans. Does Jesus intend the spectators to be waving palm branches? Do they make this gesture of their own accord? We have no way of knowing.
From the standpoint of today's worshipers, hearing the Palm Sunday story and wondering what difference it makes in their lives, perhaps the most important question is whether or not it will lead them to leave the sidewalk and join the procession. Will they remain mere spectators -- or will they personally enter into the events of this week we call "Holy"?
Yet how easy it can be to slide into a comfortable, predictable, sidewalk Christianity -- a faith that expects little and demands even less!
Prayer For The Day
Lord Jesus, we saw you coming. Someone pressed a palm branch into our hand. We cheered with the best of them. We shouted "Hosanna!" as our spirits rode high, on the crest of the applause. But now you've gone. You've ridden on. The palm-strewn street is before us, empty -- except for the others who have stepped forward to follow. Give us the courage, Lord, to join them. Amen.
To Illustrate
Several years back, watching the television news, you would have seen palm branches waving. The year was 2003, and the scene was Baghdad. Rolling into that ancient near-Eastern city were the tanks and Humvees and Bradley Fighting Vehicles of the United States Army. The monumental statue of Saddam Hussein had been pulled down just hours before. Smiling Iraqi children approached fierce-looking Marines, offering flowers. And there, in the background of many of the television news shots, you could actually see them: jubilant crowds waving palm branches.
Truly it is an ancient gesture in the Middle East. A powerful army rolls into the streets of an ancient city, and the people do what they've always done to greet conquering heroes: they wave palms.
***
It's a well-loved institution in many of our communities: the small-town parade. Imagine that it's Memorial Day, or the Fourth of July, or maybe a high school homecoming. In the typical small-town parade, there's a marching band or two, some homemade floats, a few classic cars, and a convertible with local dignitaries sitting in the back, waving to the crowds. Following it up is a procession of fire engines, ambulances, and other emergency vehicles, driven by the proud volunteers who maintain them. At the very end, a police cruiser advances slowly, lights flashing, its driver nodding solemnly to friends in the crowd. It's all good fun.
Once that final police car passes, the people lining the sidewalks have a decision to make: they can either turn and go home, or they can join some of their fellow spectators in stepping out into the street. The parade has already passed them by -- or at least the official parade has. Some of the spectators pour out into the street, turn in the direction the parade's heading, and begin marching. The parade's not over, after all: for they are continuing it.
Did something similar happen in Jerusalem, as Jesus and his disciples passed by? Mark seems to suggest it did: "... those who went ahead and those who followed were shouting, 'Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!' " (Mark 11:9).
***
Do you know who it is you're cheering, this day?
Maybe you believe you're cheering that auburn-haired young man, meek and mild, a ray of sunlight beaming over his shoulder, whom you remember from the Sunday school pictures. This same man is the one who will take a whip of cords and drive the moneychangers from the temple.
Maybe you believe you're applauding the one who gently said, "Let the children come to me." This same man is the one who proclaims, "I come to bring not peace, but a sword."
Maybe you believe you're welcoming the one who is always on your side to do your bidding -- the one you signed on with years ago, and who, ever since, you've felt was with you. This same man is the one who will wake you from sleep one night and ask, "Could you not watch with me one hour?"
Maybe you believe you're cheering the one who "will come on the clouds of heaven, and all the angels with him," and will separate the sheep from the goats, blasting the evildoers who confound your life. This same man is the one who tells tales of a self-centered runaway whose father welcomes him home with open arms, and of field-workers who are paid the same wage at the end of the day, no matter how many hours they've been working.
He's a man of contradictions and complexity ... one who defies every attempt to place him into logical pigeonholes or psychological categories ... one whose spirit, living today, "blows where it will, and you know not where it comes from or whither it goes." Yet he is also the one whose teaching is so simple, it can be boiled down to a single sentence: "Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength, and love your neighbor as yourself."
They thought they knew who he was back in old Jerusalem, too. How wrong they were!
Isaiah 50:4-9a
Philippians 2:5-11
Mark 11:1-11 or Mark 14:1--15:47 or Mark 15:1-39 (40-47)
Roman Catholic
Isaiah 50:4-7
Philippians 2:6-11
Mark 14:1--15:47
Episcopal
Isaiah 45:21-25 or Isaiah 52:13--53:12
Philippians 2:5-11
Mark (14:32-72) 15:1-39 (40-47)
Theme For The Day
When Jesus enters our lives, he demands a response.
Old Testament Lesson
Isaiah 50:4-9a
The Third Servant Song
In this, the third of his famous servant songs, Isaiah portrays a mysterious figure who has been given "the tongue of a teacher, that [he] may know how to sustain the weary with a word" (v. 4) This suffering servant, however, appears to communicate more by deeds than by words: "I gave my back to those who struck me, and my cheeks to those who pulled out the beard; I did not hide my face from insult and spitting" (v. 6). This is a truly tough, resilient individual: "I have set my face like flint, and I know that I shall not be put to shame ..." (v. 7). The servant is able to persevere because he knows he is not alone: "he who vindicates me is near" (v. 8). In verse 8, Isaiah introduces a courtroom setting: the servant dares his adversaries to contend against him -- for his defense attorney is none other than the Lord God (v. 9a). The scholarly debate over the identity of the suffering servant in these songs of Isaiah will probably never end. The church, of course, looks to these songs and sees Jesus (indeed, at times the resemblance between the details of the servant's torture and that of Jesus is uncanny) -- yet the text also had to have a meaning apparent to the people of Isaiah's own day. Absent a fully developed messianic hope at this time in history, scholarly consensus seems to be that, for Isaiah, the servant is an idealized version of the people of Israel.
New Testament Lesson
Philippians 2:5-11
Christ Emptied Himself, Taking The Form Of A Servant
Today's Epistle Lesson is one of the treasures of the first-century church: the famous kenosis passage from Paul's letter to the Philippians. This is undoubtedly an early Christian hymn, well known to Paul's readers, which the apostle embeds in the text of his letter. The word kenosis, or self-emptying, refers to verse 7, in which we read that Christ "emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness." This early hymn displays a dramatic movement of descent, followed by ascent. Christ begins in the heavenly places, but sheds every heavenly prerogative in order to take on human life. He becomes not only human, but steps into the lowest position imaginable in human society: a slave and a criminal, suffering capital punishment imposed by the state. Then, from the low point, the ascent begins. God lifts him up, exalting him to the heights, so that heaven and earth will one day bow the knee before him. Christ is described as the actor in the first, "descent" portion of the poem -- this is self-sacrifice, after all -- but after that, it is God who is the actor, raising up this completely self-emptied individual and filling him once again.
Palms Or Passion?
Depending on the degree of flexibility present in their liturgical tradition, lectionary preachers have an important choice this Sunday: between using the assigned Gospel Lesson for Palm Sunday or one of the two longer, Passion Sunday readings. The difference, of course, is that the Palm Sunday lesson is limited to Jesus' triumphal entry into Jerusalem, and the Passion Sunday lesson is a longer narrative, telling of Jesus' trial before Pilate and death on the cross. Some pastors go even further, using this Sunday for an extended reading of the entire Passion narrative in lieu of a sermon. Passion Sunday sermons typically focus on a smaller portion of whichever Gospel Lesson is being read that day (since it is difficult to do justice to the extended reading in a single sermon).
The choice is complicated by the fact that, in many churches, attendance at Maundy Thursday and Good Friday services has declined in recent years, so the only opportunity many church members have to hear of Jesus' suffering and death is this Sunday before Easter. All too many modern Christians go directly from the "Hosannas" of Palm Sunday to the "Alleluias" of Easter -- without ever stopping anywhere else in between. This makes Holy Week appear to be a rollicking good time: all sugar and no vinegar, all light and no darkness.
That is, of course, a distorted view: not only of the gospel, but of life in general. If the Sunday before Easter has a purely triumphal tone, emphasizing the spirited exuberance of the palm procession and little else, then an important part of the story will go unheard by many. On the other hand, many congregations have long-established traditions focusing on the palm procession, and the displacement of these traditions by a Passion Sunday observance would be acutely felt.
Pastoral sensitivity is required, either way. If the choice is Palm Sunday, then including some mention of Jesus' suffering and death is essential. If it is Passion Sunday, then flexibility that honors local Palm Sunday traditions is also of great value.
The Gospel -- Palm Sunday
Mark 11:1-11
Jesus' Triumphal Entry
Ironically, John's version of the story of Jesus' triumphal entry (John 12:12-19) is the only one that mentions palm branches -- and John's version never comes up in the lectionary. Here in Mark's version, Jesus sends some representatives ahead of him to secure a colt. Once they assure its owner that Jesus needs it (and will return it), he relents. (In Luke's version, by contrast, the phrase "The Lord has need of it" appears to be some kind of pre-arranged password; there is no mention of a promise to return the animal, for this would not have been necessary if the use of the beast had been agreed upon ahead of time.) Since Jesus never refers to himself as "Lord" elsewhere in Mark's Gospel, the appearance of that word in the statement, "The Lord needs it," is noteworthy. The people spread "leafy branches" out before him; there's no specific mention of palms (as in John's Gospel) -- which would have had the specific connotation of Jewish nationalism -- although it's possible that Mark's readers would have understood these leafy branches to be palms. Nor is there any mention of crowds from the city coming out to welcome Jesus -- the procession could (and, in this version, probably is) comprised mostly of his entourage. The spreading of cloaks on the road probably refers to an ancient coronation custom described in 2 Kings 9:13. The cry of the people is "Hosanna!" -- literally, "Save us!" The full quotation, "Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord" comes from Psalm 118:25-26, a royal psalm that was also traditionally sung by pilgrims as they entered the city. It would have had connotations of pilgrims coming into the city in any event, but the addition of the royal accoutrements means that Jesus' followers are also invoking the enthronement connotations.
The Gospel -- Passion Sunday
Mark 14:1--15:47 or Mark 15:1-39 (40-47)
The longer Passion Sunday reading includes the following pericopes:
The Plot To Kill Jesus (14:1-2)
The Anointing At Bethany (14:3-9)
Judas Agrees To Betray Jesus (14:10-11)
The Passover With The Disciples (14:12-21)
The Institution Of The Lord's Supper (14:22-25)
Peter's Denial Foretold (14:26-31)
Jesus Prays In Gethsemane (14:32-42)
The Betrayal And Arrest of Jesus (14:43-51)
Jesus Before The Council (14:53-65)
Peter Denies Jesus (14:66-72)
Jesus Before Pilate (15:1-5)
Pilate Hands Jesus Over To Be Crucified (15:6-15)
The Soldiers Mock Jesus (15:16-20)
The Crucifixion Of Jesus (15:21-32)
The Death Of Jesus (15:33-41)
The Burial Of Jesus (15:42-47)
The shorter Passion Sunday reading includes just the trial and the crucifixion.
Preaching Possibilities
(Note: The following comments refer to a Palm Sunday sermon on Mark 11:1-11.)
A fundamental question for the preacher, when it comes to this well-documented public event in Jesus' life, is "What is it?" Is it a genuine outpouring of affection and respect on the part of the capital city's residents, who will turn on him as soon as the political winds change? Is it a well-orchestrated effort by Jesus' supporters to advance his cause, amidst a curious but not altogether supportive populace? Or is it what some have called an act of revolutionary street theater -- a political demonstration satirizing those with pretensions to power, an act deliberately calculated to provoke a certain degree of hostility on the part of the ruling authorities?
Combined study of the four gospels' differing accounts of this incident, using a tool such as Gospel Parallels, is extremely fruitful. From such a study it becomes clear that each writer has a slightly different interpretation of the meaning of this very public event. There are numerous factual differences as well, some more significant than others. While it may be difficult (not to mention confusing, for the sermon's listeners) to introduce much of this parallel material, it is advisable that the sermon focus on one text or the other -- rather than on a harmonization that does justice to none of them.
So what is this event, as Mark describes it? Some commentators have claimed that the people of Jerusalem were hailing Jesus as a conquering political / military hero, but that's extremely unlikely. The people of Jerusalem knew what military parades were all about -- particularly Roman military parades. Typically, the victorious general would ride in, driving a chariot or sitting astride a magnificent warhorse. Around him would march legions upon legions of his troops -- all looking forward to "a hot time in the old town tonight," in the tradition of soldiers from time immemorial. Also in the procession -- barefoot, in chains, whipped along by overseers -- would be the prisoners of war: miserable unfortunates who, after they'd been displayed to the cheering multitude, were not long for this world.
Jesus is no general, and his followers no professional army. The very way he rides into the city -- on a donkey (as it says in the Gospel of John) or on a colt (as it says here in Mark, and also in Luke), or on both a donkey and a colt (as it says in Matthew) -- was hardly the sort of conveyance favored by the rich and powerful.
So what is Jesus doing, with his triumphal entry, if he doesn't intend to lead an armed insurrection? Very likely, he is making fun of the powers-that-be. He is engaging in what some commentators today have called "street theater" -- a satirical demonstration that lampoons the mighty and self-important. Jesus is a religious reformer, who wants to call the Jewish people back to the true worship of God. By revealing how insignificant and ridiculous the civil rulers appear in God's eyes, he is hoping to focus the people's devotion on what's truly important.
It's a very dangerous strategy. Jesus knows he could end up dead -- and in fact, as we all know, that's exactly what did happen, in a matter of days. There was simply too much money, too much power, riding on the status quo for an upstart rabbi from the provinces to be permitted to call the whole system into question.
In Jerusalem, the palm branches -- if, indeed, that's the type of branch the people are waving -- have a particular meaning. Palms are the symbol of Judas Maccabeus and his followers: Jewish revolutionaries, who more than a century earlier briefly overthrew the Seleucid Greek rulers. Waving palm branches is a symbol, to Jewish Zealots, of their desire for a new Judas Maccabeus to come forward, and overthrow the Romans. Does Jesus intend the spectators to be waving palm branches? Do they make this gesture of their own accord? We have no way of knowing.
From the standpoint of today's worshipers, hearing the Palm Sunday story and wondering what difference it makes in their lives, perhaps the most important question is whether or not it will lead them to leave the sidewalk and join the procession. Will they remain mere spectators -- or will they personally enter into the events of this week we call "Holy"?
Yet how easy it can be to slide into a comfortable, predictable, sidewalk Christianity -- a faith that expects little and demands even less!
Prayer For The Day
Lord Jesus, we saw you coming. Someone pressed a palm branch into our hand. We cheered with the best of them. We shouted "Hosanna!" as our spirits rode high, on the crest of the applause. But now you've gone. You've ridden on. The palm-strewn street is before us, empty -- except for the others who have stepped forward to follow. Give us the courage, Lord, to join them. Amen.
To Illustrate
Several years back, watching the television news, you would have seen palm branches waving. The year was 2003, and the scene was Baghdad. Rolling into that ancient near-Eastern city were the tanks and Humvees and Bradley Fighting Vehicles of the United States Army. The monumental statue of Saddam Hussein had been pulled down just hours before. Smiling Iraqi children approached fierce-looking Marines, offering flowers. And there, in the background of many of the television news shots, you could actually see them: jubilant crowds waving palm branches.
Truly it is an ancient gesture in the Middle East. A powerful army rolls into the streets of an ancient city, and the people do what they've always done to greet conquering heroes: they wave palms.
***
It's a well-loved institution in many of our communities: the small-town parade. Imagine that it's Memorial Day, or the Fourth of July, or maybe a high school homecoming. In the typical small-town parade, there's a marching band or two, some homemade floats, a few classic cars, and a convertible with local dignitaries sitting in the back, waving to the crowds. Following it up is a procession of fire engines, ambulances, and other emergency vehicles, driven by the proud volunteers who maintain them. At the very end, a police cruiser advances slowly, lights flashing, its driver nodding solemnly to friends in the crowd. It's all good fun.
Once that final police car passes, the people lining the sidewalks have a decision to make: they can either turn and go home, or they can join some of their fellow spectators in stepping out into the street. The parade has already passed them by -- or at least the official parade has. Some of the spectators pour out into the street, turn in the direction the parade's heading, and begin marching. The parade's not over, after all: for they are continuing it.
Did something similar happen in Jerusalem, as Jesus and his disciples passed by? Mark seems to suggest it did: "... those who went ahead and those who followed were shouting, 'Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!' " (Mark 11:9).
***
Do you know who it is you're cheering, this day?
Maybe you believe you're cheering that auburn-haired young man, meek and mild, a ray of sunlight beaming over his shoulder, whom you remember from the Sunday school pictures. This same man is the one who will take a whip of cords and drive the moneychangers from the temple.
Maybe you believe you're applauding the one who gently said, "Let the children come to me." This same man is the one who proclaims, "I come to bring not peace, but a sword."
Maybe you believe you're welcoming the one who is always on your side to do your bidding -- the one you signed on with years ago, and who, ever since, you've felt was with you. This same man is the one who will wake you from sleep one night and ask, "Could you not watch with me one hour?"
Maybe you believe you're cheering the one who "will come on the clouds of heaven, and all the angels with him," and will separate the sheep from the goats, blasting the evildoers who confound your life. This same man is the one who tells tales of a self-centered runaway whose father welcomes him home with open arms, and of field-workers who are paid the same wage at the end of the day, no matter how many hours they've been working.
He's a man of contradictions and complexity ... one who defies every attempt to place him into logical pigeonholes or psychological categories ... one whose spirit, living today, "blows where it will, and you know not where it comes from or whither it goes." Yet he is also the one whose teaching is so simple, it can be boiled down to a single sentence: "Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength, and love your neighbor as yourself."
They thought they knew who he was back in old Jerusalem, too. How wrong they were!
