Sermons
A Message by the Rev. Harvey G. Throop
Palisades Presbyterian Church
San Diego, California
April 5 , 2009
After the Palm-Waving
(Matthew 21:1-17)
" The crowds that went ahead of him and that followed were shouting, 'Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest heaven!'” (Matthew 21:9)
It was the time of the Passover and the city of Jerusalem was filled with people. They were pilgrims who had traveled from all over the world to celebrate the most sacred feast of the Jewish year. Jesus could not have chosen a more dramatic moment to tell the world who he was. He came into a city that was surging with people who were keyed up with religious expectations.
Matthew tells us that Jesus instructed two of his disciples to go to the village of Bethphage, where they would find a donkey tied there along with her colt. The disciples were to untie the animals and bring them to Jesus. If anyone said anything to them, the disciples were to reply, “The Lord needs them.” It would be a password of sorts to the animals' owner. The disciples did as they were told and they found the animals just as Jesus had said.
Have you ever noticed how Jesus was always sending his disciples out in twos – never alone – when he sent them to do a task? I believe we Christians need to notice this. We are to double up in our work because God knows how much we need each other in the Church. We may think we can be effective on our own in the Christian life, but we would be better off heeding the word of Solomon in Ecclesiastes, “ Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their toil. For if they fall, one will lift up the other; but woe to one who is alone and falls and does not have another to help” (Ecclesiastes 4:9,10).
It is obvious that the plan of Jesus was not a sudden decision made on the spur of the moment. He had made preparations in advance for this day, and as the story unfolds before us, we can see Jesus orchestrating the events with resolve and purpose.
Matthew cites the Old Testament prophecy of Zechariah 9, which predicted that the Messiah would come to Israel, riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey. Jesus was familiar with this prophecy and his actions later on proved that.
Jesus had a plan. Far from being a victim during the final days of his life, he was the one in charge. Jesus sent his disciples on a task. He deliberately fulfilled Old Testament prophecy and set into motion a series of events that would culminate in his death, but not before his identity as the Messiah was clearly revealed.
By the time Jesus mounted the donkey, a crowd had gathered to accompany him to the city and began to spread their cloaks on the road, as well as branches from the trees. And as they descended the Mount of Olives toward Jerusalem, they praised God, shouting, “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest heaven” (Matthew 21:9). This is a quotation from Psalm 118 and all four Gospels include this line in their accounts of the Triumphal Entry.
There is no question but that Jesus played into the Messianic hope of the people that day. However, Jesus would be a different kind of Messiah than the one they were expecting. He came riding not on a white stallion as a conquering king would come, but on the foal of a donkey as the suffering servant. He came not to overthrow the Roman government, but to overthrow the power of sin and death. He came not to take his seat on David's throne, but to take his place on a Roman cross.
Jesus was not the kind of Messiah for which the people were looking. And by the end of the week, the people would be calling for his death.
Palm Sunday is a day of ambiguity. We recognize that Jesus' Triumphal Entry and celebration, which we remember so joyfully with our own children's procession, is only part of the story. The other part relates to the fact that five days later, he is crucified.
Jesus knew what the people would think when they saw him. At Passover everyone remembered the beloved prophecy of Zechariah: “Look, your king is coming to you, humble, and mounted on a donkey” (Matthew 21:5). It was a treasured vision, a beautiful dream -- Israel's Messiah and true king coming to the city of David to claim his throne and begin his reign.
That is, exactly, how the people responded. They responded ecstatically, throwing garments in his path, singing and shouting, “Hosanna to the Son of David, blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!” (Matthew 21:9).
New Testament scholar, N.T. Wright says it was a deliberately prophetic act, intentional and highly provocative, because there already was a king -- Herod. The Romans allowed him to reign as long as he kept the peace and prevented potentially violent demonstrations from taking place. The Romans also allowed the religious establishment to function: the scribes, the Pharisees and the chief priests -- to carry on with their temple activities. It was in their interest, as well, to keep the peace and not to accommodate would-be Messiahs and their rabble-rousing followers from Galilee.
When the noisy entourage that accompanied Jesus reached the Temple, we read that Jesus entered the gates to the outer courtyard, the Court of the Gentiles, where all were welcome. What Jesus saw there made him so angry that he did something so provocative that New Testament scholars say it is what sealed his fate.
The Temple was being desecrated. It looked like a middle-eastern marketplace as people were buying and selling there, and business was booming. Some were selling sheep and turtledoves for sacrifices, and at this time of the year, there were many buyers. Passover was close at hand, and people were crowding into the Temple courts from everywhere.
Moneychangers were also in the Temple, sitting cross-legged behind their little coin-covered tables. In the Temple area, foreign money was not accepted as payment. Everything had to be paid in Jewish coin, including the Temple tax of half a shekel that every Jewish male had to pay annually to the Temple treasury. The moneychangers did this for a fee.
The pilgrims who had traveled to Jerusalem for Passover wanted to make a sacrifice at the Temple. It was a once in a lifetime experience and so they planned for it and saved money for it and some even brought along an animal to sacrifice. The animals had to be inspected to assure that there were no blemishes. The inspectors charged a fee. If one wished to purchase an animal to sacrifice, there were merchants with stalls selling goats, lambs and doves. To make a purchase or to have one's animal inspected, however, you had to exchange your Roman money for shekels. That was the old Jewish coinage, and that was the only money allowed in the Temple.
So here within the temple grounds is lively commerce and profiteering. Along with that was the inevitable bargaining, and, added to that, of course, was the general chaos of sheep, goats and birds. It was a corrupt system, highly profitable. The Jews themselves didn't much like it, nor did they like the priests who administered it and profited from it.
So when, in his anger, Jesus overturned the tables of the moneychangers and drove out the salespeople, it was a highly provocative act -- one that scholars tell us made Jesus' arrest and execution only a matter of time.
And then, when everything quieted down, Jesus did what may have been the most provocative thing of all. He sat down and the poor people, the sick people, the little people, the powerless people, people who were not ordinarily welcome in the Temple, came to him and he received them and made them well.
That scene, described in Matthew 21:14, should be the best-remembered scene of Palm Sunday. After the parade, after the palm waving and shouting, and after the brief violence, Jesus, the Son of God, sits down, and the lame and the blind come to him.
Matthew reports that there were also children present. They were the ones, apparently, who continued to cry out “Hosanna” when the followers left the street and entered the temple. They didn't know you were not supposed to sing, shout and laugh inside the temple. They were the nobodies – the non-persons in that culture, the weakest of the weak. And it was their presence with Jesus at the temple that truly enraged the scribes and chief priests.
Matthew writes: “When the chief priests and Pharisees saw … and heard the children in the Temple, they became angry” (Matthew 21:15). There they were: the scribes and priests, the mature religious professionals, trying to be dignified and proper, trying desperately to hold on to the status quo and preserve their place and privilege and profit. Then along comes Jesus, bringing with him the weak, the sick and the old, and for God's sake, the children.
The temptation for Jesus, and, in many respects for you and me, is to stay in Galilee and not go into the city with its danger and moral indifference. Christianity's greatest temptation has always been to withdraw from the world and become an otherworldly sanctuary away from the real world -- away from life itself. The church's great temptation has always been to turn inward and focus upon its own needs instead of upon the world's needs.
Palm Sunday is a day to remember. It's a reminder that we are called to be in the world and express our faith there, and to take criticism and persecution if necessary.
It is not possible for us to observe this day without hearing Jesus' call to his church to follow him and to live in the world. Nor is it possible for us to ponder what Jesus did in the Temple without knowing that we are called to do the same in our day. We are summoned to be his body, his hands, his feet and his heart for those whom our culture excludes and persecutes. It is not possible for us to observe Palm Sunday without knowing that our task is to live in the world, “to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with our God” (Micah 6:8).
That doesn't mean that we have all the answers to every difficult dilemma in the world. We don't. Nor does it mean that our ideology be expressed in a partisan political agenda or that we take control of one political party or the other. What Palm Sunday means is that God wants us to be involved in the world that he created and loves.
Jesus entered the city like a king coming to claim his throne. And for a moment, with the people shouting and waving palm branches and little children singing and the forces of economic exploitation and political expediency retreating before his anger, for a wonderful moment it seemed like he might do it. It seemed like he might seize the power, ascend the throne and reign over his kingdom. But at the last moment, he declined. Instead of claiming a throne, he sat down and received the sick, the blind and the lame. Instead of a court of powerful generals and politicians, he chose the singing of little children.
Instead of power, he chose love. Instead of the symbols of worldly authority, he chose the authority of compassion. He declined a throne and instead chose to reign in the hearts of those who would accept him, follow him and live like him in the world.
Palm Sunday reminds us that the ultimate realities in this world are compassion, kindness and love. It calls us to extend our hearts and hands to those who are regarded as “the least” in our society -- to spread his love, compassion and justice to our community, our city and our world.
That, my fellow Christians, is what this day is all about.
