1 April 2007

Luke 19:28-40

In New York City, in Washington Square Park in our old neighborhood of Greenwich Village, there is an arch. A very large arch made of concrete, I think. It was built as a triumphal entry arch for George Washington, years ago obviously, after the Revolutionary War ended. It stands to this day, a regular landmark in New York, even though it was meant to be a temporary structure for this triumphal entry.

We’ve lost a sense of triumphal entries in our day and age. Maybe a ticker tape parade come close, but even those have died off what with the end of ticker tapes and the advent of sealed windows. But the parades we used to have to welcome back astronauts and still have when a sports team wins it all come close to these triumphal entries.

But indeed, throughout history when a general returned from a successful conquering victory, he would be greeted with a grand entrance into the city. Citizens would pour out of their homes to greet the general and the soldiers as they returned, triumphant. Praises would be extolled and laurel wreaths would be placed on heads. Arches might even be built for the heroes to ride through, such as was the case in New York City.

And so it is the context in which we read today’s reading: a triumphal entry of a visiting king or successful general. Jesus is coming into Jerusalem as a hero; one who is going to save the people; save them from the Imperial Roman governing forces which rule over Judah with a heavy and terrible hand.

Rome is the outsider, the latest in a long line of outsiders, which is ruling over Judah; the land promised to Israel by God. The Roman rulers are for the most part cruel and brutal. They are hated; everything about them is abhorred.

Jerusalem, as the center of Judah’s culture, is looking for a savior; a messiah; someone who will break the bondage of the Roman rule. They’re looking for someone to have a triumphal entry. They’re ripe, in fact, for a triumphal entry.

Jesus’ disciples, some of them anyway, think their rabbi is the man; the one who will free Judah from Rome once and for all and restore the land to its rightful owner. It’s no surprise that there is a triumphal entry planned for this entrance into Jerusalem for Jesus. He is at the height of his popularity; he has been throughout Galilee teaching and preaching and healing. He has been gathering followers and adherents. There are those who think he is the messiah.

But Jesus has other plans for this triumphal entry. A conquering general would come in on a fine steed at least, if not drawn in a chariot by several horses. But Jesus comes in on a colt; a mere colt; a small, inconsequential animal. Jesus’ feet probably came close to dragging on the ground riding this animal.

Now notice that in the passage this morning, there was no mention of palms. This is the one Palm Sunday gospel that doesn’t mention the palms. Instead we get the people spreading their coats and cloaks on the road. Surely, this is a symbol of honor and respect; a message that the road is not good enough. Their coats are needed to pave the way to Jerusalem.

Then an interesting thing happens. Something you wouldn’t expect, perhaps. The disciples, all those surrounding Jesus on this colt, begin to sing a hymn of praise to the entering hero. “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest heaven!” rings out throughout the whole area. The Pharisees, either jealous or concerned for Jesus’ well being, try to get Jesus to quiet the song. Jesus of course replies that if his followers were silent, the very stones on the ground would sing out: truly a miraculous occurrence were it to happen. This is not a typical triumphal entry: with the hero on a colt and the possibility of stones singing. No, this is a different kind of entry.

And in case you think that his followers weren’t getting it, let’s listen again to the hymn they were singing: “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest heaven!”

This hymn, clearly a song of praise is also a song of peace, not of war. This triumphal entry, unlike all the others, is an entry of peace; not following a successful battle campaign or in expectations of a bloody coup. Jesus’ followers, singing their hearts out, proclaim that Jesus is the ruler who is sent by none other than God. And he comes bringing peace. Truly a savior worth following.

Do we expect Jesus to come in peace as ruler of all? Do we really know what Jesus brings to us? Are we surprised, truly deep down really taken aback, by the fact that Jesus is on a colt? How do we hold together the tension of Palm Sunday, knowing what is to come this week?

Indeed, this tension is what Palm Sunday is about. This tension of a triumphal entry versus what Jesus knows lay ahead. For Jesus knew. In fact, if you read just beyond today’s lectionary reading, you read that Jesus weeps over Jerusalem. The weeping he does is of the heaving shoulders type, tears flowing type of weeping. He knows the tension that is building between his triumphal entry and the state of his world; the tension between a hero’s welcome and the shouts of the crowd that will be crying for his death in a few short days.

Yes, Palm Sunday is about tension. Our tension as we recognize what is to come during this week as humanity does its worst to one of the greatest who ever lived. The tension as we recognize that things haven’t changed much and we would likely find Jesus on death row these days; or at the least ignored and put onto the scrapheap of humanity.

Wave the palms and throw your coats onto the road in front of Jesus. But reflect on whether you would be one who would be turning and crying out “crucify him” shortly.

Live in the tension. Breathe through the tension of this Palm Sunday. But don’t try to ignore it. Recognize this tension of the adulation versus the condemnation and recognize your part in it.