The Passion according to Matthew.
No, we didn’t forget to read the Gospel this morning. With our bishop’s permission, we are using the Palm gospel from the beginning of the service as our Good News this morning. In The Episcopal Church, Palm Sunday services typically read the Passion gospel just before the sermon. Today we will hear the story of Jesus’ betrayal, trial, and execution as the postlude to our celebration of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem surrounded by a noisy, cloak-wearing, branch-waving crowd.
We arrive at this precipice of jubilation having spent the season of Lent walking with Jesus, watching and learning. First and foundationally, his baptismal identity strengthened him to resist Satan’s temptations of power and pride and worldly success. We then witnessed his encounters with Nicodemus, the woman at the well, the man born blind, and his friends Mary, Martha, and Lazarus. We were there as he encouraged their faithful questions. We witnessed his healing them in body and spirit, loving each person into their best next new self. Through it all, his deep conviction of his purpose and ministry overturned social, religious, and political rules.
People who previously felt invisible and broken now feel seen and empowered. And those in power feel threatened. Which brings us to this moment, surrounded by cheering throngs, shaking their noisemakers and shouting, “Hosanna! Hosanna!”
Jesus and his entourage join many thousands of people coming into Jerusalem to celebrate Passover, so the crowd may not have been for Jesus alone. But word spreads quickly. “Who is this?” “This is the prophet Jesus from Nazarath in Galilee.” Having heard of his amazing healing powers, his ability to know things without having met a person before, the crowds throw down their cloaks and branches on thedirty, dusty road - like they would for a great king or warrior.
“Hosanna!!” literally “Save us!” “Show us your favor!” The followers of the one god Yahweh were expecting a Messiah, as described by the prophets. Forcibly displaced from their holy city of Jerusalem, they believe that only God’s intervention will restore them to their rightful home and status as God’s beloved and chosen people. Their Messiah will be descended from David, their greatest king chosen, for them by God and anointed by Samuel, whose rule brought prosperity to Israel.
At this point, the people of Israel are living under Roman occupation. Not able to govern themselves. Paying exorbitant taxes. Beatings, imprisonment, and execution are typical punishments for crimes like not paying taxes, refusing to acknowledge the emperor as a god, or theft.
Here comes Jesus, coming through the gates of Jerusalem, on a humble donkey. These faithful people have not forgotten Zechariah’s prophecy, though they may not have realized all its implications. The power of this savior is not might by the world’s measure. No war horse or chariot or fancy robes for this king who will triumph over the despotic powers of this world and bring peace to the nations. And, still, the crowd is jubilant, the city in turmoil.
The anticipation of change, of liberation, is palpable. People have reason to believe Jesus is ushering in a new day. He has ‘seen’ and heard and eaten with humble people. He has done things no one has ever done since the world began. Regular people have seen and believed that he is the Messiah.
Palm Sunday’s riotous celebration is giddy HOPE for what we need and desire from God: to be rescued and restored from all that is broken in our lives and our world. To be freed from political systems that oppress people, that perpetuate power for some and homelessness and hunger and disenfranchisement for others. To challenge the pervasive belief that violence against another human being is EVER justified - whether it is harsh words of anger or frustration, the thousand tiny cuts of microaggressions, exploitation born of malice and desperation, or terrorism that gratuitously slaughters innocent people. Save us, O God, from all the ways our human desires for power and worldly success fracture our lives and relationships and perpetuate our loneliness. On Palm Sunday, we join the boisterous crowd and celebrate the coming of a Messiah because we share their hope for the life of abundance God promises, a life we cannot attain on our own no matter how hard we try.
Holy Week moves us through the journey from anticipatory, desperate hope for liberation and life TO the joyful assurance that a new and different life of flourishing is possible for us and for all creation.
We don’t get to the happy ending next Sunday without the journey from this moment of jubilation through the hard moments of naming the despair and death of our souls, asking for forgiveness, and emerging from the grave of our making at Easter.
As we hear the Passion today, hear it as an invitation to experience the deep love shared on Maundy Thursday, the deep grief and repentance for our broken world on Good Friday, and the hope of seeing light in the darkness, rebirth and living water at Easter Vigil. The worship services of Holy Week call us to remain present to each moment as we witness the very real struggle of holy Love against the powers of this world.
For this moment, we remain with the jubilant crowd, crying “Hosanna!! Hosanna!! Hosanna!!”
No comments:
Post a Comment