Luke 19:28-40; Philippians 2:5-11; Luke 23:1-49
Each year, on this day, the Sunday before Easter, I spend most of my time talking about the cross.
And that's OK. It's good even. It makes sense. We are entering into Holy Week. During Holy Week, the church tells the story that we believe is the most important story in the history of the universe – the story of the death and resurrection of Jesus, and of the week that led up to that transformational event. Traditionally, for almost two millenia, Holy Week has begun with Palm Sunday – that's today – a day when we celebrate the entry of Jesus into Jerusalem, riding on the back of a donkey, while the crowds wave palm branches – signs of honor and praise that would have been reserved for the King of Israel – they waved palm branches and shouted with joy, believing that this was the moment when God had come to rescue them.
Holy Week begins with Palm Sunday, and then, over the course of the week, moves towards the cross, as we tell the story of Jesus sharing his last meal with his disciples, washing their feet, being betrayed, put on trial, and ultimately dying on a cross. Holy Week starts with the joy of Palm Sunday, but moves rapidly to the darkness and despair of Good Friday, when God's Son dies for the sake of the world.
But, most years, on this day, on Palm Sunday, I spend most of my time talking not about the crowds with their palms, but about Jesus on the cross. For a few decades now, many churches have transformed Palm Sunday into what is called Palm/Passion Sunday – a day when we tell two stories at once – the story of Jesus entering in triumph into Jerusalem on Sunday and the story of his death – which is also called his Passion - a few days later on Good Friday. And, this change – this combination – makes sense. Most folks who come to church on this Sunday don't come to church on Good Friday. And the cross, along with the resurrection, is the heart of the Christian story – it's an essential part of the most important story we tell. But, next Sunday, on Easter, the cross is not the story, it's not the focus – next Sunday, the story is that death has been defeated, that the grave has been overcome, that the cross did not get the final word. Next Sunday we need to talk about the resurrection, not the crucifixion, the glorious morning light of God's victory, not the dark night of apparent defeat.
But, the thing is, we need to talk about the cross at some point, because we can’t understand the resurrection without the crucifixion, we can’t understand Easter without Good Friday. And, so, a few decades ago, in recognition of how weird it is that most people skip straight from the joy of Palm Sunday: with Jesus entering into Jerusalem, people dancing in the streets, and crowds proclaiming him as king – if you only came to church on Sundays during Holy Week, and we didn't talk about the cross today, you would skip straight from the joy of Palm Sunday to the light of Easter, and miss the darkness in the middle.
But, if we do that – if we skip the story of Good Friday – we miss part of what makes the joy of Easter so powerful. The same crowds that hailed Jesus as king on Palm Sunday turned on him by midweek, and on Friday cried out for him to be crucified. The wonder of the empty tomb only makes sense if we watch as Jesus is tortured, murdered, how his broken body is set in the tomb. If we skip the cross, if we don’t talk about it today, it’s easy to forget, not to notice, that Jesus ended his life alone, betrayed, rejected, in utter darkness. When we skip the story of the cross, it's easy to forget that he was really dead, that all really seemed to be lost, that the darkness of Good Friday was the darkest things had ever been.
And, so, Palm Sunday was changed to Palm/Passion Sunday, a day when we tell the stories of Jesus entering into Jerusalem in triumph AND the story of the night on which he was betrayed. And that change was a good thing, because it ensures that, even if you skip worship on Friday - which, I hope you don’t, I hope you’ll worship with us online or in person on Friday as we dig deep into the story of God's love on the cross - but, even if we do skip worship this Friday, as long as we show up to worship on both Sundays of Holy Week, we still get to hear the absolutely essential story of the cross every year.
And, again, that’s a good thing. But, it also means that we often ignore the story of the palms - because the story of the cross is so important, because it’s so central, because it has to be told, because it has so much power and gravity, most years we don’t really pay attention to the scripture Joy read at the start of worship, the story of Jesus entering into Jerusalem to the praise of the crowds. The cross has a gravity, a power, that makes it feel like the Palm Sunday celebration from the first half of worship is almost a preamble to the real action.
But, when it happened, in the moment, Palm Sunday was where the action was. We would do well to pay attention to what happens on Palm Sunday, because, today, Jesus is doing something radical.
On Palm Sunday, Jesus is staging what has been called a counter-procession. On that day – the Sunday before Passover – there would have been two caravans, two leaders, entering into the city at the same time.
Each year on that day, the Sunday before the people of Jerusalem celebrated Passover, the Roman military governor – Pontius Pilate – traveled to Jerusalem from his fortress on the coast. He brought with him legions of soldiers – swordsmen, cavalry, thousands of Rome's mightiest warriors. He came into town to keep the peace at the tip of the spear. Passover – a feast that celebrates God liberating the people from slavery under an oppressive empire in Egypt – was a common time for Jewish national sentiment to rise up, for folks to yearn for God to set them free yet again, and for rebellions and riots to break out, as the people sought to drive out the occupiers, the Romans who had stolen their land and their freedom. And, so, on the Sunday before Passover, Pontius Pilate marched into Jerusalem from the West, and was received a carefully choreographed welcome – as all the power brokers and elites would have been there, and, as he rode in upon his mighty warhorse, escorted by an army, he would have been greeted by shouts of "Hail Caesar!"
But, this one year, at the same time, on the other side of town, a different procession was happening. As Pilate entered the city from his fortress in the West, Jesus was parading into town from the Mount of Olives in the East. But instead of riding a mighty warhorse, he rides upon a donkey – a simple beast of burden, a symbol of peace. Instead of being greeted by the elites and the powerful, he is greeted by the poor and outcast. Instead of being escorted by soldiers and signs of military power, he's escorted by a bunch of failed fishermen, by outcasts and ragamuffins and the dispossessed. Instead of crying out "Hail, Caesar!" and praising the Emperor whose power takes the form of violence, the crowds shout "Save us!" and "blessings to God's king who brings peace!"
No wonder the religious elites tell Jesus to stop it, to make the crowds be silent – they know that this little parade is making a mockery of the one on the other side of town, they realize that this is a direct challenge to the authority of Rome, they know that what Jesus is doing is saying that Rome's authority is illegitimate, because he serves a higher power – the God who made the heavens and the earth, the God who is Lord over even Caesar. Jesus, my friends, wasn't killed because he talked about love too much. The Romans killed Jesus because they thought he was a threat to their power – and, moments like this can help us understand why they thought that.
You see, Palm Sunday is a reminder that Jesus is a different kind of king – that he is presenting himself as an alternative to Pontius Pilate, and also as an alternative to the political leaders who we have a tendency to worship, the false gods who sit on golden thrones and who serve only themselves and the interests of the powerful. Jesus is the one who comes to overthrow them and to bring us peace.
Jesus comes to dismantle, to overthrow, the forces of evil and death, and replace them with the power of God's peace. Notice what the crowds shout – they cry out "peace in the highest heaven" – mirroring what the angels sang at the birth of Jesus – when they sang out "glory to God, and peace on earth!" The life of Jesus is framed – at its beginning and its end – with cries of peace. This is a celebration of the King – of the God – who showers us with peace that we don't deserve, who deserves praises sung by a chorus of angels and a crowd of humanity, who has done for us more than we could ever imagine.
That's the story of Palm Sunday – the story we would do well not to miss as we move towards the cross. It is a story that tells us that Jesus Christ is the true king, that he is the one who brings us true peace.
Jesus is a king who comes to bring us peace, to dismantle the forces of empire and violence – even if the only way to dismantle those powers is by offering up his own body, his own life, allowing himself to be overcome by them so that he may, by his death and resurrection, defeat them. Because he is born, lives, suffers, dies, and is raised from the dead – it is the mission of Jesus to make the heavens and the earth, the whole universe, ring out in peace. He takes our violence onto himself and transforms it into God's perfect peace – he receives our worst and transforms it into God's very best.
And, in the end, that's why pairing the story of Palm Sunday with the story of the cross – telling both stories on this day – why that does actually make sense. Because the cross is the natural result of the challenge Palm Sunday's procession brings against the powerful. Because on Palm Sunday, we celebrate Jesus as the one who brings us peace – and the cross is how that peace happens. Because Palm Sunday is a story that tells us that Jesus is the king, and the cross shows us what kind of king he is – he is a king who dies to save his people, who conquers not by inflicting violence upon others, but by receiving it onto himself.
Today, we celebrate Palm Sunday – we sing songs of praise to the God who brings us peace, to the King who sets us free. And we set our eyes on the cross, where his ultimate victory is won. Today, we praise God for glorious peace. On Friday, we will sit in darkness as we hear the story of heartbreaking violence. And, a week from today, on Easter Sunday, we will bask in the glorious light of the resurrection.
Because the true King has come to save us. God's peace is on the way. Praise God.
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