2022.04.10 | The Prophetic Journey
“The Prophetic Journey”
Rev. Pepper Swanson
Eden United Church of Christ
Hayward, CA
Palm Sunday
Luke 19:21-40 | [Español]
Today’s scripture reading is the story of Jesus’ triumphant arrival in Jerusalem. We read it every year on Palm Sunday because it is the turning point between his ministry on the road and his final days in Jerusalem.
A cursory re- telling of the story would miss a few key points. Beneath the simple narrative of a holy man and his people coming to the big city for the celebration of Passover, there are allusions and symbols that something greater is about to play out.
For example, have you ever pondered why Jesus appears to not only know where his disciples are likely to find a colt he might ride, but also what the donkey’s owner will say and the exact words the disciples should use to placate his concerns. Or why as Jesus approaches Jerusalem, the people throw their cloaks on the road? And, how about the words the multitude of disciples use as they sing out his praises?
What Bible scholars and other experts on ancient texts see that we might miss is that Luke’s version of Jesus’ arrival is rich with royal imagery and words that would have resonated strongly with a people all too familiar with both royal processions and the return of conquering heroes. Most telling of these images, because they fit the model of other royal processions of the time, are:
Jesus’ ESP in knowing the location of his colt and the words that the “Lord needs it” would pacify the owner, indicating his super-human abilities
the unusual use of the underlying Greek word for spreading cloaks, which is more often used for the spreading of cloaks on couches for nobility,
the insertion of the word “king” into the singing of Psalm 118, where the original says “one,” and
the beautiful ending couplet that calls for “peace in heaven,” echoing the multitude of angels who sang at the birth of Jesus in the beginning of Luke for “peace on earth.”
We who have been fed a constant diet of anti-monarchical thought since KIng George III lost our loyalty and caused the American Revolution and the resulting republican form of democracy will always have to struggle a bit to understand the great joy of Palm Sunday. The heady days when we elect a President of our political leanings can be a source of great joy but hardly compares to the ascension of a beloved king because it is always bounded by the success of the other party in one branch of government or another. It is only when we add to the ancient context of this story the ongoing subjugation of Israel by Rome and the tyranny and despotism of their own King Herod, do we begin to see, if not fully understand, the profound longing of the people for a new king who would liberate them from their poverty and bondage.
And if we can understand the longing for a new king and get into the excitement of the disciples and the crowd, there is a little voice in our heads that says: But yet, the colt. What king, in reality or myth, calls for his mount to be a colt (or as Matthew says, the colt of a donkey) that had never been ridden? Why not a horse, especially a war horse like ones ridden by the Roman warriors and conquerors?
The colt opens the door to another layer of the Palm Sunday story. The image of the colt comes from Zechariah’s prophecy that the people’s king will come triumphant but humble, riding a colt, and bringing peace. In fact, much of this royal procession of a humble king has its roots in Old Testament allusions, including the Pharisees’ response to all the hubbub caused by the multitude loudly blessing this new but humble king. Frightened or unnerved, they ask Jesus to order his disciples to stop and Jesus’ answer echoes the ancient scripture of Habakkuk, “The very stones will cry out from the wall and the plaster will respond from the woodwork: “Alas for you who build a town by bloodshed and found a city on iniquity.”
All in all, the story of Jesus’ entry with its royal images and scriptural allusions would have been heard and understood not as the beginning of the end of one man’s journey, but as a prophetic journey, long-expected and hoped for; a colt bearing not just a man of miracles, but a new king who would bring peace and justice.
To grasp the power of the Easter story is not just to struggle with the agony of betrayal or the gore of crucifixion or the improbability of resurrection, but to place one’s own self into the sandals of one who walked knowingly and seemingly without qualm into danger for the sake of others.
The Bible gives us other examples of humans called to risk their lives for the sake of others.. In Exodus, for example, the son of an enslaved Hebrew woman is adopted by the Pharoah’s daughter and is raised to be a prince of Egypt until he flees to Midian after committting an murder. Called by God to imperil his life by returning to Egypt to free the Hebrew nation, he is riddled by self-doubt, even after God does some impressive miracles. Eventually Moses accepts his call and returns to Egypt and leads his people to freedom.
In the Book of Esther, the Jewish Queen Esther, who won her throne in a rather salacious beauty contest, is called by her Uncle to save her people from a royal order that they be slaughtered by their fellow countrymen on a day selected by lot and promoted by an evil advisor to the her husband, the King. Esther, taking her life into her own hands, walks to the king without invitation and eventually reveals the plot, saves her people, and exacts revenge on the evil-doer.
And examples abound outside of the Biblical page. We are living through tough times and the accounts of complex bravery by individuals and whole peoples are a daily occurrence. Imagine the tremendous personal courage that must be summoned to stand as a Chinese student in front of a tank in Tiananmen Square, or to be an elementary school teacher who runs toward a man with an assault weapon in Sandy Hook, or to be a Russian citizen risking their life to protest the vicious attack of Ukraine by Putin’s army.
I like to think that there is power granted to all those who step into the void to save others and that power is love, a love so great that concern for their own well-being is momentarily or permanently held by God.
After entering Jerusalem for the last time on Palm Sunday, Jesus cleanses the Temple of those selling at tables and begins to teach. He answers questions from the religious authorities with parables, foretells the destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple, and continues to teach about a new kingdom, while sitting in the heart of the old kingdom. The new kingdom is as topsy-turvy as this king who rides a donkey, bringing mercy and justice to the poor and the persecuted. The signs of this new kingdom’s arrival will be calamitous for all, especially his followers who will be betrayed and persecuted even by their own families, all because of his name.
At his last Passover feast, which we will remember this coming Thursday night, he gave his disciples the words we use for Communion but he also bequeathed to them, and by proxy, to us his kingdom. He said, “You are those who have stood by me in my trials, and I confer on you, just as my Father has conferred on me, a kingdom so that you may eat and drink at my table in my kingdom and you will sit on thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel.”
My friends, whether we understand or not, Palm Sunday announces that a new king has arrived and the new longed-for kingdom is established. It is the life of Jesus, however, that shows us that, ultimately, entry into Christ’s kingdom comes from following him and his ways of peace and justice in a world filled with violence and injustice. Amen.