Palm/Passion Sunday
March 28, 2010
Isaiah 50:4-9a
Psalm 31:9-16
Philippians 2:5-11
Luke 22:14-23:56
Well, we don’t really need to hear a sermon today. In fact, we hardly need a homily. We have already heard the story of Palm and Passion Sunday. In fact, we have participated in it. We have all taken a role in this Passion Play. It began with our marching around this church and waving palm branches and singing our Hosannas as we journeyed with Jesus into Jerusalem. Some of us went on to perform a dramatic reading of Luke’s Passion Gospel, but we still had a role in the drama. We stood to honor Jesus as we watched him go to Golgotha to be nailed to a cross like a common criminal and executed for a crime he never committed.
Today we remember that we play a role in the events of Palm and Passion Sunday. We participate in Jesus’ death and resurrection, even at this time and in this place in Gods’ salvation history. It is you and I who betray him…you and I who journey with him to Jerusalem in shouts of praise, only to deny him when he needs us most. It is you and I who crucify him—daily. Yes, we are key players in this story of betrayal, denial and death. Today we get our chance to admit our complicity in these events of Palm and Passion Sunday. And those of us who attend services during this Holy Week will sit with Jesus at his last supper, have our feet washed by Jesus, and journey with Jesus through his time of trial and death. This week we are not allowed to be spectators. We cannot sit idly by as we hear our scriptures, say or prayers, sing our hymns and come to this table to be fed. Today we witness to the events which are central to our faith and necessary to our religious practices throughout the church year.
So, what does it say about us, and what does it say about Jesus when we parade around this church today, waving palms and singing Hosannas. The message is so overtly political. “Hosanna” itself is a nationalistic cry. It’s like saying, “Jesus reigns! Jesus rules; he is our King.” We can liken our Hosannas or to a Muslim who cries “Allah Akbar!” Both are a passionate call to political action. Words that are provocative and inflammatory. So we should not be surprised that Roman officials would try to suppress them. At the very least shouts of Hosanna can be a threat to a Roman ruler; at most, they are a threat to the highest calling of a Roman official—keeping the Pax Romana— the peace of Rome. But calling on Jesus to rule our earthly institutions and sanction our belief in the rightness of our cause was never in his job description.
Nevertheless, you don’t have to look far to find people who believe Jesus should be our earthly ruler. People who believe that Jesus thinks as they do and would act as they want to make our world in their image. And they are only to willing to shout their Hosannas in every public arena that will accommodate them. Some would go so far as to threaten violence and provoke revolt in Jesus’ name against those who are not like them, and those who don’t hold their self-righteous views about how the world should be.
But we create a huge problem when we shout our Hosannas for political purpose. We find that our words are not only heretical, they are dangerous. I mean, how can it be that Jesus is a capitalist to conservative followers, a socialist to liberal followers and a free spirit to libertarians? If anything our scripture show us a Jesus who will not take sides with the powers and principalities of this world. The only side Jesus takes is his stand against those who use their self-serving principles and their self-seeking power for personal gain, especially at the expense of those they use, or abuse, or ignore to get power and keep it; like the poor and marginalized, the sick and needy, the weak and disenfranchised. Still, we shout our Hosannas, secretly and aloud, believing that Jesus stands with us against those who are not with us. But today we are reminded of the consequences of raising the name of Jesus to accomplish our own worldly purposes and achieving our own personal ends; we end up delivering him into the hands of religious leaders and politicians who will take Jesus to the cross of public opinion and misunderstand his purpose for coming into our world for God’s end.
As we move through Holy Week we will see where our palm waving and shouts of hosanna get us. And where they will take Jesus. We will see that Jesus is not about to become our earthly king. He will not save from our earthly folly. He will save us only for God’s purpose and for God’s end.
I could end my homily right here if we did not also claim this Sunday as Passion Sunday. But secular demands of our modern world have made it so difficult for people to come away from the world to journey with Jesus through Holy Week. So the church feels obligated to tell the story of Jesus’ Passion and death on this same day. And there is little more for me to say about it. You heard it all in the dramatic reading from Luke’s Gospel this morning. We have already made our journey with Jesus through the events of Holy Week; we have witnessed the agony of his pain and the grief of his death. (Those of us who have been walking the Stations of the Cross for the past five weeks have been doing just that.) But there are some important distinctions in Luke’s account of Jesus’ Passion and death that bear mentioning.
For instance, Luke places far more emphasis on Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem before he actually gets there. Ten chapters of his Gospel to be exact. It would appear that Luke is more interested in why Jesus will go to Jerusalem than his getting there. Also, in Luke’s account, Jesus is going to Jerusalem for the first time, knowing it will also be his last. Because Jerusalem is the city where prophets go to be killed. Timing is everything for Jesus. Not his time, but God’s time.
There’s a saying time which comes out of the Black Church. It goes something like this: “God doesn’t necessarily get here when you want, but he always arrives on time.” And while getting to Jerusalem seems more important to Luke than arriving, when Jesus finally arrives it is the right time. God’s time. Because Jesus does more than mark time by going to Jerusalem, Jesus fulfills time. And when he dies, Jesus’ end time is also God’s beginning time. The time when Jesus fulfills God’s promise of salvation of life eternal for all of us for all time.
But before we get to Easter, before we celebrate that life we get to live eternally, we must first journey with Jesus this week through his passion and death. And Luke is clear about how we are to make that journey throughout our own life. On that Maundy Thursday as he celebrates the feast of the Passover with his disciples, Jesus listens to them argue about who is the greatest among them. But Jesus tells them who the greatest are among us in any age. They are people who serve. “I am among you as one who serves,” says Jesus. And whether or not we live up to the example Jesus sets for us, we get his meaning.
Jesus continues to serve the purpose for which he has come to Jerusalem until he dies on the cross. He makes one last stand to condemn unfair economic policies of Roman taxation, and usurious practices of Temple money lenders. Both Roman and Jewish authorities see Jesus as zealous activist. Jews see Jesus as a dangerous fanatic. Herod sees Jesus’ as defyingly uncooperative. And Pilate sees no reason to condemn Jesus to death except that the people cry out for the release of Barabbas. And so Jesus is condemned to die the most brutal, violent death one can suffer at the hands of Roman Law. Jesus has violated the Pax Romana (the peace of Rome); even worse, he has threatened the rule of Rome by insinuating that he is a king. Well, Roman authorities get it right, but they are also wrong. Jesus is, indeed, the King of Peace. But he is a servant king, and a prince of peace who carries no sword.
Jesus gives us yet one last glimpse of his purpose for being in Jerusalem. As he hangs between two criminals who are being crucified with him one of them mocks Jesus, saying that if he is indeed the Messiah, then he should be able to save them all. However, the other criminal asks Jesus to remember him when he comes into his kingdom. And they both get it right. Because in the end Jesus will save both of these criminals. Even the one who mocks him, but not on his terms, and not on our terms. The second criminal gets it. He makes a modest request that Jesus remember him when he comes into his Kingdom. And Jesus offers to do more than just remember him. Jesus gives him the assurance we all need as we look to Easter. “Today you will be with me in paradise,” Jesus tells him. And we can take heart in knowing that the criminal on his left will also be with Jesus in paradise. And so will we.