Lead Us to Calvary

Luke 19:28-40 & 23:1-49

Sunday, April 1, 2007

The Rev. Dr. David A. Van Dyke

Passion / Palm Sunday  

Prayer: As crowds of people welcomed Jesus as he rode into Jerusalem, acclaiming him as their ruler, so we welcome you, O God. Above all human powers and earthly dominions, you lay rightful claim to our praise, our love, our devotion and our obedience. Therefore, we have come to worship you and to hear your word proclaimed—your word that has power for our lives. So speak to us.  Draw near to us.  And as the events of this week unfold, may we walk with Jesus to a place called Calvary.  We pray this in the name of the one we hail as our Savior, Jesus Christ our Lord.  Amen. 

Were you surprised this morning to hear the traditional Palm Sunday story continue on through the crucifixion?  Did that crucifixion seem out of place or like it somehow subverted the otherwise predictable, traditional Palm Sunday pageant? 

Palm Sunday usually stands on its own with the triumphal entry and shouts of “Hosanna!”  But there has been something of a liturgical shift away from just an observance of Palm Sunday and the parade, to include the story of the crucifixion.  The shift happened, I think, because relatively few people attend Maundy Thursday services.  Good Friday is no longer recognized very much—schools and businesses are no longer closed.  Churches used to attract large crowds on Good Friday for services on the seven last words of Jesus.  

I participated in one of those—once, where seven different preachers preached seven different sermons and the service went on for hours.  Trapped up on the chancel of that church, enduring seven sermons in a row as the shadows lengthened, it certainly had the effect of making me feel like I was enduring a slow, painful death that afternoon.   

And so because Maundy Thursday and Good Friday services are sparsely attended, you can understand the motivation for the shift.  People shouldn’t go from the celebration of Palm Sunday directly into the celebration of Easter morning, without stopping along the way at a place called Calvary and confronting what happened there.  This day, after all, is about more than one last hurrah—one last party for Jesus before this awful week unfolds.

So I’ve included the lectionary’s full set of gospel readings for today, and that includes the crucifixion. Next year you can go back to just having a parade on Palm Sunday if that is your desire.  But to continue the story beyond the triumphal entry and parade lets us in on the very real tension that was present on the day Jesus rode into the city—the city he’d been headed toward throughout his brief ministry.     

It is widely accepted that the Roman state always made a show of force during the Jewish Passover—a time when patriotic pilgrims flocked to the city to celebrate their liberation from Egypt centuries earlier.  And the Roman authorities were smart enough to know that anytime you had a politically charged atmosphere, and then mixed in some blatant religious overtones, the potential was there for things to get wildly out of hand. 

In a book entitled The Last Week, which attempts to trace the events of the last week of Jesus’ life, scholars Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan, imagine that there were actually two processionals entering Jerusalem that spring morning in 30 A.D.  One was a processional made by Pilate, from the west, no doubt on a horse, full of military symbolism and might, designed to draw attention to Rome’s power and domination.  The other procession was made by Jesus, and it was full of irony and political parody, as king Jesus descended the Mount of Olives and rode into Jerusalem from the east, on a donkey, in direct and intentional fulfillment of Zechariah’s prophecy centuries earlier when he said, “Look, your king comes to you humbled, riding on a donkey” (9:9).

Jesus’ “triumphal” entry into those clogged streets of Jerusalem was a highly symbolic, provocative act—a bit of orchestrated street theater, if you will, designed to dramatize his subversive mission.  And it stood in stark contrast to the false power and glory as it was showcased by Pilate, who for all intents and purposes was a political puppet—a hack.

Simply stated, Jesus’ entry into the city was an anti-imperial, counter cultural procession,  proclaiming a blatantly subversive message that of course, attracted the attention of poor, oppressed peasants, whose land was once again occupied.  No wonder they cheered.  No wonder the children, who are often the real victims of bad adult decisions—no wonder they shouted “Hosanna,” which means “Save us!” 

No wonder it made Pilate and the other Roman officials nervous.

Criticize the king and you’ll find yourself in trouble.  Mock the king and you’ll find yourself dead.  But that’s something of what was happening that day in Jerusalem.  And all too often, churches have lost sight of that on Palm Sunday, favoring instead a lovely procession of children waving palm branches.     

And consider the fact that twenty years after Jesus died, his followers were still being subversive and shaking things up. Remember when Paul and Silas were in Philippi and were dragged before the city magistrates charged with throwing the city into chaos and turmoil by advocating customs that flew directly in the face of Rome—that before they were stripped, beaten and thrown into prison (see Acts 16:19-24).   

Paul and Silas caused an uproar in Thessalonica as well, and when the authorities couldn’t find them, they dragged Jason, another follower who had provided Paul and Silas with hospitality—they dragged Jason into the town square and yelled, “These people are turning our city upside down!  They’re advocating that we defy Caesar!” (see Acts 17:7).  Paul was also lucky to escape Antioch with his life in tact (see Acts 14:4-5). 

It seems that everywhere he went, Paul was persecuted by those with political power, he was not coddled by them, the way we see it working all too often today.  Did you know that the first Christians were really considered atheists in that they refused to participate in Rome’s cult of imperial worship?  The state was God and they didn’t recognize the state.  In their book, Borg and Crossan argue that what got Jesus into trouble and eventually killed—and what gets his followers in trouble still, is when they advocate an alternate reign and rule to that which masquerades itself as true power. 

Beginning with Jesus, and then carried out by faithful down through the centuries, authentic Christianity—that’s Christianity based not on what we think the Bible says but based on the life and ministry of Jesus—authentic Christianity always advocates the subversion and overthrow of major aspects of the way most societies in history have been organized. Whether ancient or modern, most societies have normalized the status quo.  They have legitimated political oppression that worsens the situation for already marginalized people. They protect entrenched systems of economic exploitation that cause the poor among us to become even poorer while the rich, you know, manage to get richer.

And just think of the things that Jesus would like to see subverted today, or see his modern-day followers working to undermine and topple.  For example: ethnic stereotypes and racism; homophobia; the use of capital punishment; unbridled consumerism; the perpetuated lie that there just isn’t enough money to go around; the raping of the environment; the blind eye we will turn to the 20,000 people who will starve to death on this day alone, mostly in Africa; the insane war in Iraq and a military industrial complex that uses fear as a justification for the use of power.         

When people get all riled up over the sight of a manger scene on the court house steps or the capitol lawn, saying, “Oh no we can’t have that—we can’t have Jesus depicted there, that’s a threat to the system!” they have no idea how right they are!   

Jesus rode into Jerusalem on the back of a donkey and the crowd understood exactly what he was saying in that gesture and saw in him the fulfillment of what they had long been waiting for.  And it wasn’t so much a parade that day as it was a funeral march on a collision course with the powers that be, and that would end up at place called Calvary. 

And authentic Christianity will always take you to that place. 

Written as something of a journal entry in the year 130 A.D., which is one hundred years after Jesus, or to put it another way, written as close to the time of Jesus as we are to Theodore Roosevelt, listen to the way one early observer described Christians:    

For the Christians are distinguished from other people neither by country, nor language. They dwell in their own countries, but simply as sojourners. As citizens, they share in all things with others, and yet endure all things as if foreigners. They have a common table, but not a common bed. They are in the flesh, but do not live after the flesh. They pass their days on earth, but they are citizens of heaven. They obey the prescribed laws, and at the same time surpass the laws by their lives. They love all people and are persecuted by all.

They are unknown and condemned; they are put to death, and restored to life. They are poor and yet make many rich. They are in lack of all things and yet abound in all. They are dishonored, and yet in their very dishonor are glorified. They are evil spoken of, and yet are justified; they are reviled, and blessed; they are insulted and repay the insult with honor; they do good, yet are punished as evil-doers. When punished, they rejoice as if quickened into life; yet those who hate them are unable to assign any reason for their hatred (from the Epistle to Diognetus, c.130 AD).    

I think I understand the hatred.  I think I understand the threat Jesus posed then and still posses today.  Jesus rode into Jerusalem revealing what authentic Christianity is all about, and leading us to a place called Calvary.  We can go with him as spectators or as participants in this unfolding drama.  I think that’s what was happening that day and I think it’s what this day is all about.  And that’s the invitation being extended to each of us.    

And so at least on this Palm Sunday, I’m going to keep in mind the words of the old hymn,

Lest I forget Gethsemane; lest I forget Thine agony;

Lest I forget thy love for me; Lead me to Calvary.  

Amen. 

(See: The Last Week: A Day-by-Day Account of Jesus’s Final Week in Jerusalem, published by Harper, San Francisco, 2006).

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