Faith musings in an exciting world

Behold thy King...

04/11/2017 10:32

Palm Sunday MMXVII

You may also like to read the sermon for the First in Advent 2017.

[Ex. 13:6-10; Hebr. 2:14-18; Mk. 11:1-11]

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

 

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=nNt1Qj4MA6M

"Rejoice, rejoice, rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion!

Shout, O daughter of Jerusalem!

Behold thy King cometh on to thee." (Zech. 9:9a)

 

We heard this aria from Handel's Messiah on the First Sunday in Advent last November, and we wondered -slightly befuddled- why we were hearing a text at the beginning of Advent that reminded us of the beginning of Holy Week, down to the hosannas.

Wasn't that a little -or a lot- strange?! Had we gotten the order of the story muddled up?!

We then learned it was to make us aware of the Second Coming of Christ but also of Jesus entering our hearts every single day.

This morning we focus on that singular event so long ago, Palm Sunday.

 

All four gospels relate the narrative, remarkable in itself as John tends to do his own thing; Matthew chapter 21 which we read in Advent, Mark 11 for our passage today, Luke chapter 19 and John 12: Christ on his way to set into motion those events that will mean death for him but eternal life and salvation for all of us.

Matthew's version had reminded the crowds of what the prophet Zechariah had foretold: Zion's king coming, riding on a donkey, just like in the aria.

We too in Liverpool 2017 wave our palms.

Mark doesn't mention this, but like Matthew he does quote Psalm 118(:25-26): "Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!" (v.9), which we'll also be reciting at our Eucharistic prayer later on.

He also incorporates the verse "Blessed is the coming kingdom of our father David." (v. 10)

 

This is very interesting and very daring, because at the time of Jesus there was only one kingdom...the Roman Empire; and there was only one king...the Roman Emperor!

It was a time of occupation, taxation, discrimination and oppression, and it's no surprise that the imagery, the foreshadowing of the Exodus from Egypt was so closely connected in the collective memory of the Jewish nation to their military and religious situation of the time; to them it wasn't just a verse said or sung during a liturgical celebration, it was a political battle-cry for freedom!

 

Marcus Borg and John D. Crossan, two American New Testament scholars, in their book The Last Week (2006) have underscored this 'clash of civilisations' if you will by drawing a vivid mental picture of the two processions approaching Jerusalem that day: one was Pontius Pilate leading his hardened troops, marching up from the coast at a swift pace, ready to quash any sign of trouble during the Passover; the second group was far more chaotic, more spontaneous, slowly curling down from the Mount of Olives, not military professionals but local civilians of all ages, running to and fro, edged on by the disciples, shouting, waving and cheering, not for a Roman governor but for a Galilean rabbi, perhaps even for a prophet or a king.

 

A stead versus a colt, a war-horse versus a donkey; the contrast couldn't have been more striking; just like the contrast between the great powers-that-be of our own present-day and the coming kingdom of our Lord can't be more hopeful!

Can these diametric opposites set an example for us how to approach the world?

What do they mean for us in Liverpool 2017?

 

Christ's short ride from Bethphage and Bethany represents our Exodus, our freedom by his life, death and resurrection through Baptism.

The freedom he gives is a freedom we're all called to share with others; to paraphrase Luther: 'We're free to serve.'

 

Like Jesus we're called to go to the crowds and encounter them, not stamp all over them with our marching boots.

Even if some will only stand by the road enthusiastically waving for a little while, we're still called to meet them in their frailty, in their own humanity, as Christ our God-man met them in their flesh, at their own level, not to lord it over them and put them in their place as Pilate did.

And when we struggle with this -because let's face it, people are very often very unlikable- there's nothing in that task that Christ will not understand and empathise with; there will be no dismissive judgement from atop a lofty place.

So neither should we behave in that way!

 

God always takes the first step, or in this case the first donkey!

God always hears our hosannas, which mean 'save me!' but also 'bless you!'

 

Which processional steps will we then take towards others?

What chaotic and joyous news, waving and shouting, will we share with them?

The worldly prowess of a conceited conqueror or even the distorted pictures of the Jesus of the Second Coming we find in certain Christian corners, complete with bulging biceps and automatic riffles (and a bandana in the colours of a certain flag)?

Or the Good News on an equal level, much more intimate and compassionate, more even-paced so no one's left behind, kind and loving, an encounter that truly enters each of our hearts and sets into motion events that transform lives: the Good News of a full human experience on the road to eternal wholeness.

 

Jesus i sin stora barmärtighet kommer til oss i Advent, på Palmsöndagen och varje dag.

And the peace of God which passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.