Contrasts

Palm/Passion Sunday
March 16, 2008

Matthew 21:1-11
By Pastor Tom Kadel

This past Wednesday, I went to our Come Little Children Child Care Center for my weekly time with the children.  Because it was so close to Palm Sunday, I took some palm fronds and talked with them about how the people welcomed Jesus into Jerusalem by waving palms.  I explained that waving palms like this was their way of saying, “We’re happy you are here, Jesus!”  Then I asked them to stand up and we waved our palms together.  I was struck by the extraordinary joy on their faces.  Something there was in their innocence that just erupted in joy.  They were so happy with the idea of welcoming Jesus into their lives, that hey really didn’t want to stop.  It really warmed my heart.
 
But it also brought to my mind a question.  “Why does welcoming Jesus into our lives begin to lose its joy as we get older?”  Is it maybe because we can’t really see any real importance in Palm Sunday?  I mean, everybody loves a parade, but what’s so special about this particular parade that we might discover true joy in it?  Today, I’d like to see if we can get some of that joy back and to do so I’m going to ask you to suspend for a bit what you think you know about Palm Sunday.

Martin Luther often wrote about how God works in hidden ways through contrasts.  He wrote that “what is good for us is hidden, and it is hidden so deeply that it is hidden under its opposite.”  Nowhere else is this idea of hidden goodness more evident than in this day of contrasts that goes by two names on our church calendar.  It is Palm Sunday, the joyous day of welcoming Jesus into Jerusalem.  It is also Passion Sunday, the day of ushering in the final week of Jesus’ life that will include the poignancy of Maundy Thursday, the terror of Good Friday, the emptiness of Holy Saturday.

Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossman, two outstanding Biblical scholars, in their powerful little book titled The Last Week, point out a powerful contrast to Palm Sunday that many of us would not know about.  They begin their book saying, “Two processions entered Jerusalem on a spring day in the year 30.”  One, they say, was a peasant procession as Jesus entered Jerusalem from the east riding upon a donkey.  On the opposite side of the city from the west, Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor, entered Jerusalem at the head of a column of imperial cavalry and soldiers.  “Jesus’ procession,” they write, “proclaimed the kingdom of God; Pilate’s proclaimed the power of the empire.  The two processions embody the central conflict of the week that led to Jesus’ crucifixion.”

Pilate did not live in Jerusalem.  He lived in a beautiful and splendid city on the coast called Caesarea Maritima and came to Jerusalem only when he had to.  It was the time of the Jewish Passover, so this was a time he had to – not to support the Jews in this key moment of their faith, but to put down the nationalistic fervor that always sprang up at important Jewish festivals.  The Jews hated the Romans and the Romans knew it, but couldn’t care less.  They represented a system of domination of the world and didn’t particularly care whether those they dominated liked them or not so long as they didn’t give them any trouble and they paid their massive tributes on time. 

Pilate represented power – Roman power – pure and unabashed power.  His procession would have been impressive with drums, the sound of horses’ hooves, the barking of orders.  Imagine standing along that west entrance to Jerusalem and see this massive display of power and might.  It would have brought a terrible chill to many in that crowd.  And it was designed to do just that.  To others who had sold out to the Romans – and there were a lot of them — it would have brought a sense of security that they were safe despite betraying their own nation.

From the east gate the peasant procession begins.  This procession fulfills the prophet Zechariah’s prophecy of some 500 years earlier that a king would come and save the people and that this king would arrive riding on a donkey.  Jesus didn’t arrive in Jerusalem on a donkey because he suddenly got tired of walking.  He entered in this way and on this particular day because as Luther pointed out, God works in hidden ways through contrasts.  I can imagine no greater contrast. 

From the west comes domination through power.  From the east comes suffering servanthood.  From the west comes all the world’s might.  From the east comes one armed only with love.  From the west comes the source of God’s people’s misery.  From the east comes the source of God’s people’s salvation.  I can imagine no greater contrast.

It is upon the backdrop of these two processions that the events of Holy Week take their shape, their meaning, their power and their drama.  It is upon the backdrop of these two processions that the shouts of “Hail Caesar” along the imperial one recognized the world’s ways.  It is also upon the backdrop of these two processions that the shouts along the peasant’s procession of “Hosanna” take their own shape, meaning, power and drama, for the term Hosanna in Hebrew meant “O Save!” 

Contrasts.  Darkness meets Light.  Power meets weakness.  Swords meet palm fronds.  The world meets God.  The procession from the west will give us Good Friday.  The procession from the east will give us Easter.  Contrasts.

Are the contrasts any less stark today?  Does not the world’s procession continue to flood into life from one gate and does not Christ’s procession continue to flood into life from the other?  And are we not always forced to choose which procession to join?

Hunger comes from the west, borne upon the horses of those who just don’t care who dies as long they profit?  The church comes from the east to meet it.  Oppression comes from the west not caring about the misery it spreads as long as it keeps its power.  The church comes from the east to meet it.  War comes from the west touting itself as the romantic solution to the world’s problems.  The church comes from the east to meet it.  Misery floods into the world from the west in so many ways.  The church, borne upon its donkey-like weakness, comes from the east to meet it.

So, I said something at the beginning that I wanted to see today if we could get some of the joy back into Palm Sunday and it is right where these two processions meet that we can find it.  We can find it there because the matter has already been resolved.  It has been resolved upon that cross by that suffering servant. 

Oh, the world thought it had won, but as the words of a little movie we’re showing on Good Friday say, the world just didn’t know that Sunday’s comin’.

Oh hatred, oppression, domination and exploitation laughed out loud at a little Jesus riding into town on a little donkey. Yeh, what’s he got?  You’ll see what he’s got because Sunday’s comin’. 

Oh, Darkness snickered at the sound of waving palm when it touted the sound of hard steel blades clanking.  But Darkness didn’t know that Sunday’s comin’. 

There’s where the joy is.  God’s working in hidden ways through contrasts.  What is good for us is hidden, and so deeply is it hidden that it is hidden under its opposite. 

We are the church, world, and we may look weak, but Sunday’s comin’.  Oh, it is Passion Sunday, but next Sunday’s comin’.  And it is called Easter.

Amen

The peace of God which passes all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.  Amen.