Riding Into Town – Sermon on March 26, 2010

March 28, 2010
Scripture: Luke 19: 28-40

After he had said this, he went on ahead, going up to Jerusalem. When he had come near Bethpage and Bethany, at the place called the Mount of Olives, he sent two of the disciples, saying, “Go into the village ahead of you, and as you enter it you will find tied there a colt that has never been ridden. Untie it and bring it here. If anyone asks you, ‘Why are you untying it?’ just say this, ‘The Lord needs it.’” So those who were sent departed and found it as he had told them. As they were untying the colt, its owners asked them, “Why are you untying the colt?” They said, “The Lord needs it.” Then they brought it to Jesus; and after throwing their cloaks on the colt, they set Jesus on it. As he rode along, people kept spreading their cloaks on the road. As he was now approaching the path down from the Mount of Olives, the whole multitude of the disciples began to praise God joyfully with a loud voice for all the deeds of power that they had seen, saying, “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest heaven!” Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to him, “Teacher, order your disciples to stop.” He answered, “I tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout out.”

Sermon: Riding Into Town

by Rev. Doreen Oughton

Did everyone get their palm? They’re great, aren’t they. I haven’t learned how yet, but I know they can be folded and bent to form crosses. I have a palm cross on my kitchen wall that someone made me. These palms, though, in some way remind me of a birthday party for a toddler. You know how they can get all excited and distracted by the wrappings, missing the gift that is inside. These palms are the wrappings, so to speak, just concrete symbols of a very precious gift. The gift, or the point of the day where we get palms, is that we are offered the chance to begin the journey with Jesus into Holy Week. We are offered the chance to reflect on a story that includes everything – all the polarities that can be so difficult to hold all at once: honor and rejection, truth and deceit, loyalty and betrayal, confusion and certainty, suffering and forgiveness, death and resurrection. Though it contains so much, it becomes complete in our hearing and in our commitment to live the new life that is ultimately given to us. I invite you to find opportunities throughout the week to internalize this story, to imagine yourself there, with Jesus; to look at your own life for all these polarities, for the invitations to new life. Perhaps you will put the palm somewhere that it can serve as a reminder. Or I invite you to take a stone, as the children did. Carry it in your pocket as a touchstone, reminding you of the stone that the builders rejected. They will be gathered on a tray at the back of the Sanctuary for you to take on your way out.

And today, today we get to join the followers of Jesus as they give expression to their excitement and joyous anticipation of the reign of the one they now recognize as the Messiah. For that is who is crying out in Luke’s gospel. Not an anonymous crowd who will later call for Jesus’ death. If you listened carefully, or check your pew bible, Luke tells us it was the multitude of disciples that sang, “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest heaven.” Now I’m sure it is more than the twelve, but Jesus has been gathering followers for some time. And these people have witnessed miracle after miracle – feeding 5000 from a few loaves and fishes, walking on water, healing, even raising the dead! What have they to fear?! And after all this time of Jesus telling them to be quiet about who he really is, he seems ready to claim his identity, he is very much in charge. So exciting, so exciting. Maybe like when the Allied forces rode into the concentration camps, or a truck convoy brings grain to starving people.

It’s interesting that there are no palms mentioned in Luke’s version of this story, no branches of any kind. John is the only one who mentions palms specifically, though Matthew and Mark both have people spreading branches on the road. No shouts of Hosanna, which means “save now,” either, and as I noted, no fickle crowds. The accounts of Matthew and Mark are similar to one another, but differ from Luke and all differ from John. The one common thing they have is Jesus riding on a never-been ridden before colt. Only John and Matthew specify that it is a donkey colt. So maybe this day would have been more accurately termed Colt Sunday.

I really like that idea myself, based on the symbolism of the colt versus the symbolism of the palms. Though of course a palm branch is a much more manageable visual/tactile tool than anything I can think of associated with a colt. I sort of wish I’d worked on this sermon before 7 p.m. on Saturday and maybe I would have come up with something to give you that would remind you of the colt. Because the colt is important, really important. In all four versions of this story, Jesus is the one who has the idea to ride on a colt. In some versions he sends his disciples to get one that he has likely pre-arranged, and in John he gets the colt himself. Not so with the palms or the branches. Jesus doesn’t ask for those, doesn’t direct people to cut the branches or lay them down. In fact, the symbolism of the colt stands in stark contrast to the symbolism of the palms.

The palms, I learned, recall the story from the Hebrew Bible book of First Maccabees. It tells the story of a time when there was a brutal rule over Palestine, one in which the practice of Judaism was forbidden, with penalty of death – when women were killed for having their children circumcised, and their families then killed along with them. An old priest gathered the people and launched a guerrilla campaign. It took a few years, but the rebellion worked, and Judean independence was re-established. There was a great celebration with the waving of palms, and I quote 1st Maccabees, “because a great enemy had been crushed and removed from Israel.” Those waving palm branches were hoping to celebrate the crushing of a great enemy. The palms say “Hail, conquering hero.” But the colt, now the colt says something different.

Gospel writer Matthew is considerate enough to quote the Hebrew scriptures that indicate the meaning of the donkey colt – Isaiah and Zechariah – “Look, your king is coming to you, humble, and mounted on a donkey.” The donkey symbolizes humility, a humble kingship. The fact that the colt has never been ridden adds an aura of sacredness to it. Jesus communicates that something sacred is happening, and that his kingship will be different than one might expect. Kings are expected to ride on grand stallions, with troops and flags and weapons, not on donkey colts covered by the ragtag followers’ coats. In fact it is possible that at the very time that Jesus was riding his colt into Jerusalem from the east, riding in from the west was the Roman empire’s representative, coming in such pomp and circumstance, letting people know that the imperial peace will be kept during the potentially turbulent time of Passover.

Jesus had a different kind of peace in mind. The peace desired by Pilate and Rome is the kind of peace where the status quo is accepted, where those on top say jump, and those on the bottom shut up, or say, “how high.” And they had no qualms about using violent methods to enforce such “peace.” They would not be impressed by the joyful shouts of the disciples about the coming of a new king, the one who comes in the name of the Lord. And the Pharisees know it. They scold Jesus, “tell your people to keep the noise down. Why are you drawing attention to yourselves? Do you want the Romans to get all over us?” But Jesus knows that those on the bottom have accepted too much already, have been told to shut up or obey to their detriment and to the detriment of God’s kin-dom. Even the stones are on the verge of crying out that a new reign is due.

But in riding a colt, Jesus makes it clear that the new reign is truly new, different, it won’t operate the way the old reign always has, through might. Jesus won’t find a bigger horse than Pilate’s, a bigger army, more intimidating weapons. He won’t. He will, instead, keep preaching God’s message about love and forgiveness and mercy and service. He will call for justice for all people, and reverence for God. And he will keep saying it, and keep living it, until the people convicted by his words decide to convict him instead. And still he resists the role of conquering hero. His triumph will be different. His triumph includes the cross, includes sweating blood in the garden, being betrayed by friends, dying a scandalous, painful death before being resurrected. He didn’t crush the enemy, and he didn’t walk away, didn’t shut up, didn’t keep the imperial peace. What he did was show how much he loves us, how much he wants to bring a real peace, a just peace, a peace of mercy and compassion to this world. Can we, will we, help him? Can we trust him enough to let go of the trappings of power and might? Can we pray for our so-called enemies, even love them? Can we stop the scapegoating, the finger-pointing, the demonizing of our brothers and sisters? Can we truly make a way for Jesus, sing our songs of praise and hosannas, and trust the future to God, the God of love who finds a way out of no way, who finds a way to love every single person, who brings life out of death? May it be so.