Ride On, Ride On In Majesty

Bible Text: Isaiah 50:4-9, Psalm 118:1-2, Psalm 118:19-29, Matthew 21:1-11 | Preacher: Rev. Jenn Geddes

The pulpit is no place for politics. However, I do have to admit some sense of relief that Quebec’s Charter of Values is off the table. As I heard from friends serving congregations in Quebec there was concern about what it would do for interfaith dialogue, what it would do to communities of all faiths, how it would alienate many and displace some. It is, nevertheless, a sign of the change in our culture. The privatization of religion has meant that we keep it, both the discussion and practice of faith, to ourselves. It is true the public arena is no place for indoctrination, assimilation, or confrontation but it is a place for education and appreciation. I firmly believe that when we remove any possibility for dialogue about faith from our public spheres we might create tolerance but we also most definitely establish ignorance. We resort to media for teaching- and create assumptions. I am one of the lucky few who are often invited to discuss religion in public. For some years it was a gift I didn’t always appreciate. It used to be that I hated the question upon meeting someone, “And what do you do?” because inevitability when I said, “I am a minister in the Presbyterian church”, there would be that moment even a slight flinch on their face and I knew what it meant, they were replaying our entire conversation until that point to make sure that they had not said or done anything inappropriate. I would often try to calm the situation by saying or doing something…inappropriate. But I realize most people are not given the opportunity to discuss their faith and faith practice and most are deterred from doing so. Jobs can even be at stake and so we resort to subtle symbols of crosses or fish displayed discretely.

I have been thinking about this a lot lately in part due to the political events in our country and around the world but also because I have be wondering about Palm Sunday. In Jesus’ day faith was very public. There were visible signs in appearance but also in engagement. Faith and practice were discussed out in the open, debates were held among the scholars in public places. The people lived their faith first and everything else second. I began to wonder, if Jesus were to enter our city today, even Jerusalem today, would it be much of a parade? Would anyone notice? Would anyone recognize him? Would anyone care?

Matthew’s version of the events clearly establish that those witnessing the event saw Jesus as Majesty, as the King who would bring peace and whose dominion would extend to the ends of the earth. Matthew’s intention is to highlight the key feature that Jesus is being honoured; the cloaks of his disciples provide a cushion and the crowds’ cloaks provide a carpet. What I like about the passage is that the crowd seems to gather immediately and out of nowhere. Perhaps one reason why no such parade could happen now is because most of us spend our time inside-rather than outside waiting for something to happen. It nevertheless seems rather sudden- certainly the disciples did not expect this kind of entry. In other gospel accounts they even seem to question whether Jesus knows what he’s talking about. You know, these days if someone wishes to have a public parade, there would be proper bureaucracy to follow, permits to fill out, approvals to receive. There would be no spontaneity, but then again this wasn’t exactly a spontaneous parade, but rather one that had been planned for quite some time.

For awhile Jesus had been telling his disciples what was about to happen. His destiny appears to include two contradictory things. One, that he must go to Jerusalem and two, that he must endure suffering and death in Jerusalem. Our passage this morning demonstrates the difficulty the disciples have with these words. How is it that upon entering the city he is received with shouts of praise, palms meant for royalty, and encouragement from the crowd and yet continues to teach about his death? Peter in particular has trouble understanding this dichotomy. Jerusalem is supposed to fling open its gates and welcome the Messiah with tremendous rejoicing, not reject him as a common criminal. But the preparations for this parade go back even further, they go back for centuries.

When Israel was in exile, when it had been completely destroyed and when its broken people came back with a revived vision and a hope for rebuilding, the renewal of Jerusalem was synonymous with salvation and it was the Messiah who would bring about the revival for this city. It was the Messiah who would overturn the tables of oppression. Jerusalem is the place where the real journey for Jesus both begins and ends. Jesus arrived at the Mount of Olives with his disciples, where he instructed them to get the donkey and colt. It is the place from which he parades into Jerusalem in triumph, as King. It is also the same place from which the soldiers, after Judas’ kiss, will take him to Caiaphas. Many churches today will move throughout the service from the story of the palms to the stories of the passion. We will hear more of the passion’s narrative on Maundy Thursday and Good Friday. We know the story, we know these palms and shouts of praise will turn to cries of crucify him all too quickly.

We hear the words from Psalm 118, “Bind the festal procession with branches, up to the horns of the alter.” Matthew incorporates branches into Jesus’ festal procession up to Jerusalem, a tradition reserved for royalty and worship. For a brief moment the crowds’ eyes seem to be opened- they recognize that their long awaited Messiah is among them. That he is the fulfilment of their hopes and dreams, the hopes and dreams of generations of oppressed and distressed people. Note that it is not Jesus who proclaims himself as the Son of David but the crowd. By doing so they evoke his identity as a descendent of the great king and therefore a king himself. This was all part of a promise given by Jeremiah, “David’s righteous branch whom the Lord will raise up, who will reign as king and deal wisely, the one who will execute justice and righteousness.” But no where in this promise do we hear the words that Jesus must die.

There is a divide between the way most of Jerusalem thinks about the Messiah and the way Jesus came as Messiah. This division continues today but it started as early as when Jesus was among his disciples. Right up until his ascension the disciples still expected the restoration of Israel to come via a mighty soldier, a valiant king, a warrior. The sign that Jesus was not the warrior they had expected should have been realized with the use of the colt and donkey. No king, no solider, in his right mind would show up riding either one of those. The truth about Jesus’ journey into Jerusalem is that he is accepting the Messiah’s crown but also the Messiah’s cross.

Theologian and pastor John Jewell states, “The key to understanding Palm Sunday and Passion Sunday is to come to grips with the fact that all of us are on a journey through life which puts us on a road that leads to Jerusalem. In the most personal way Jerusalem is a symbol of the inner core of our lives- some call it the centre of our souls. There is a temple in this personal Jerusalem and there is a throne.” Upon that throne we place Jesus as king but this is not the king we expected. This is a king who rides on a donkey. This is a king who will overthrow the oppressor but not through acts of violent battles but rather through the shouts of a city seeking his death. And his kingdom is not a geographical location but a place within the spirit of those who are his subjects. Jewell states clearly that the kingdom of God is wherever God is in charge.

In the week ahead it will seem as though God has lost control, that God is no longer in charge. The expectations of people will be shattered. Peter will deny who he is and who he serves and the disciples will privatize their practice by hiding in doors. But we have the true gift of knowing the end of the story- or rather the real beginning to this unending story and so we can join the parade and shout, Ride on, Ride on in Majesty and pray that we will stand by the empty tomb in a week’s time. Amen