“I Love A Parade” Sermon on April 17, 2011
Aprile 17, 2011
Scripture: Matthew 21: 1-11
When they had come near Jerusalem and had reached Bethphage, at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, saying 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. If anyone says anything to you, just say this, ‘The Lord needs them.’ And he will send them immediately.” This took place to fulfill what had been spoken through the prophet, saying, “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.”
The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them; they brought the donkey and the colt, and put their cloaks on them, and he sat on them. A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. The 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!” When he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil, asking, “Who is this?” The crowds were saying, “This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee.”
Sermon: I Love a Parade
By: Rev. Doreen Oughton
Our journey with Jesus through the weeks of Lent is coming to a close. Here we stand with him on the cusp of this most intense, and last, week of his earthly life. We know what is going to happen, as did he, as he told his disciples on three occasions during their journey. He’s told them that they must go to Jerusalem where he will suffer many things, will be killed, and on the third day will rise again. In our journey through the Lenten scriptures, we have heard Jesus’ discourse on being born of the Spirit, listened in on a conversation he had with a woman at the well, enabling her to reconnect with her community. He has healed a man who was blind since birth, and finally raised his friend Lazarus from the dead. He knows where he is going, and he knows what will happen when he gets there. He is intentional. His actions have purpose and meaning.
In today’s reading he sends two disciples ahead of him to pick up the donkey and its colt. Another intentional act, one we can trust has purpose and meaning. Let’s talk a bit about what was happening here as we ponder his actions. Jesus and his followers were going to Jerusalem for the Passover festival. The normal population of about 50,000 residents of Jerusalem swelled to three times that with the pilgrims coming in for the festival. Rome always kept a close eye, had extra boots on the ground so to speak, during such times to make sure there were no rumblings of revolt, no challenges to their rule. And so as the pilgrims swarmed in through the back gates of the city, Pilate and his army rode their war horses through the front gate. Jesus knew this, and planned his own parade, his own theatrical display of power. Pilate comes in on war horse, and Jesus on a donkey.
The contrast couldn’t be more obvious, and gospel-writer Matthew stresses the message of a different type of sovereignty by quoting from the prophet Zeccariah: Look, your king is coming to you, humble, and mounted on a donkey.” Matthew doesn’t give us the rest of this passage, but all those pilgrims who had studied their Torah would know it: “I will take away the chariots from Ephraim and the warhorses from Jerusalem, and the battle bow will be broken. He will proclaim peace to the nations. His rule will extend from sea to sea. As for you, I will free your prisoners from the waterless pit. Return to your fortress, you prisoners of hope; even now I announce that I will restore twice as much to you.” Jesus is telling them that his power is not that of war horses and soldiers, not power of the sword. The peace he proclaims is a peace of mercy and justice. It is not the peace that comes from silencing dissent. It is not a peace upheld through swift retaliatory violence against complainers, and maintained through the visual reminders of crosses dotting the landscape.
Those traveling around him, his disciples and other pilgrims, are excited by this message that fills them with hope. Yes, they cry out, bring us this peace, let your rule extend from sea to sea.” “Hosanna,” they say, which means “save us, we beseech thee.” Not a cry of glorious praise, but a heartfelt, hopeful plea. They have either witnessed first hand or heard about the works of this man, how he has healed, stilled storms, even raised someone from the dead. Surely he is the one to take on Rome, surely he is the one who will bring the reign of God, which God has promised them. So they spread their coats and the palm branches, forming a red carpet of sorts. And it’s all so exciting, so promising. The residents of Jerusalem have already seen Pilate’s big parade of military might storm by, and, as we are told, the whole city was in turmoil. And here comes another parade, crowds of people singing and chanting, “Hosanna to the Son of David.” Crowds of people riding on the wave of a message of hope for salvation. Was it contagious? Did the people in the city ask excitedly, “Who is this?” Or were they asking suspiciously? Or were they asking fearfully?
What an exciting day it must have been. I wonder what sort of impact Jesus’ next move had. The passage immediately following today’s reading tells us that Jesus entered the temple and drove out the money changers and dove sellers. He accused them of turning God’s house of prayer into a den of robbers. Then he began healing people. He stood his ground when the Pharisees and scribes approached him angrily. He quoted scripture that calls out one who establishes praise out of the mouths of babes that would silence adversaries. The observing crowds, I wonder, were they still stoked? Or had their excitement taken on an edge of fear as they entered the city?
This confrontation with the religious authorities, maybe that wasn’t so wise at this point. Shouldn’t Jesus instead gather with his followers and start making a plan? Since he has no army to back him up, wouldn’t subterfuge and stealth rebellion be the way to go here? Did they start to have the thought that Jesus would never be allowed to continue this way. He would be shut down, he would be stepped on like a bug by the powers in place. Had the crowd started to think that maybe they should step back from this guy for now, wait and see what happens?
As I reflect on this story, I can’t help but think of the recent struggles for democracy and freedom in the Middle East and North Africa. In some places, long-standing dictators have been toppled, while in others the crackdown on rebellion came forcefully. It’s an ancient story, the systems of dominance by might, by violence. And Jesus refused to participate in it. He wasn’t going to quietly amass an army to fight this system. Because doing so wouldn’t fight it. By amassing an army, by engaging in violent revolt, he would instead join that system. One power might replace another, but the system remains the same. And that was something that the crowd could not understand, could not accept. It is something we still struggle to understand and accept. How can such evil be overcome without might? How can acts of mercy and love, forgiveness and sharing do anything but provide a doormat for the powerful? How can sacrificing, speaking words of truth, witnessing to abuse, calling for justice lead to a new system, a new kindom? How can it lead to anything but the silencing of such a voice?
What were the crowds that gave Jesus the red carpet treatment hoping for? What kind of savior were they looking for? Were they looking for another Pharisee that would enforce a new law in the old way? Were they looking for a zealot who would take up a sword? What kind of savior are we looking for? Are we looking for someone to keep us safe, to make us happy and secure and comfortable? That’s not the Jesus that God sent. That’s not the Jesus who purposefully, intentionally made his way to Jerusalem, entering the city on a donkey, ready to face betrayal, suffering, and crucifixion, so that he could, on the third day, rise and make clear that mercy, love, forgiveness, and sharing will indeed have the last word. Hosanna to the Son of David. The new kindom has come and is coming. Hosanna to the Son of David. The new reign was started and cannot be stopped, not even by death. Hosanna to the Son of David.
So this most Holy Week begins with the story of a parade full of excitement and promise and hope, and ends next Sunday with the fulfillment of that promise. But it is the stuff in between that tells us what we really need to understand about Jesus – and about ourselves as members of the crowd who want to back away from this man. I urge you to find a way this week to travel that road. If you are unable to attend the Maundy Thursday service we offer, perhaps you can find another, or a Good Friday service, or a Saturday vigil. You might want to spend some time with scripture, reading the Passion narratives. I would be happy to steer you to some readings, or even provide them for you. I will also have a sign-up sheet downstairs for anyone who would like to receive by e-mail daily Gospel passages along with questions for reflection and a brief prayer. It will make our Easter celebration together next week all the richer.
