On the Way to the Cross: A Sermon for Palm Sunday

​Every year on Palm Sunday I am struck by the apparent disconnect between the upbeat opening of the service, when we process through the Church waving palms and singing songs in memory of Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem, and the long, brutal Passion Gospel we just read together. It has been hard for me to see how these two parts of Christ’s story fit together in a single service.
 
But the speaker at Clergy Day a couple of years ago helped me. He reminded us that Jesus knew what he was doing when he entered Jerusalem on a colt at the head of a procession and surrounded by excited crowds. Jesus was throwing down the gauntlet. To those with eyes to see, Jesus was proclaiming himself the messiah and issuing a challenge to anyone who might oppose him.
 
Jesus did not have to enter this way. At least once before, Jesus had entered Jerusalem secretly in order to be present for a religious festival without alerting the authorities (John 7:10). Presumably Jesus could have done that again.
 
Instead, Jesus entered in as public a way as possible, knowing that important people would be offended. It looks a lot like Jesus planned the whole thing as an intentional act of defiance to the ruling authorities of the city, the Temple, and the empire. For all practical purposes, Jesus was picking a fight on that first Palm Sunday.
 
Certainly that is how the religious authorities understood Jesus’ entrance. That’s why the Pharisees in the crowd protested, “Teacher, order your disciples to stop.” And when they handed Jesus over to Pilate a few days later, their accusation was that Jesus claimed to be king. They must have been thinking about this moment, about Jesus accepting the crowd’s adoring cry, “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord.”
 
And that is the one claim the Roman governor could not tolerate. Unwilling though he was to punish Jesus, Pilate considered Jesus letting people hail him as king an unacceptable challenge to Roman rule.
 
When he entered Jerusalem as he did, Jesus knew that is what would happen. Jesus chose confrontation with the powers of his day. Palm Sunday led straight to Good Friday, just as Jesus intended. The two events may feel different to us, but there was no disconnect for Jesus. When he entered Jerusalem in triumph, Jesus was heading directly to the cross.
 
Of course, Jesus was not just a troublemaker. Jesus was not creating conflict where there was none. Jesus was simply exposing the conflict that was already present, the conflict that people mostly took for granted as a fact of life, the conflict between the hopes of ordinary people and the reality of their lives, the conflict between God’s will for God’s people and the actions of the religious and political elite in Jerusalem.
 
Although there were surely some good priests in the city, as a group the religious authorities were more concerned with their own interests than with obedience to God. The Roman political authorities were only interested in extracting as much wealth from the people and the country as they possibly could. Jesus entered Jerusalem in the name of God to offer something better, an alternative to both. More on that in a moment.
 
But Jesus also had a lesson for the common people.
 
Jesus was not the kind of king most of them were expecting or hoping for. Most ordinary Jews resented Roman domination. The angriest of them advocated military rebellion, and a few became political assassins.
 
But Jesus chose a different way. Jesus confronted Roman power, but Jesus confronted Roman power by riding into the city on a colt at the head of a ragtag band of peasant followers. This was no military invasion. This was an act of nonviolent resistance in the name of God.
 
Jesus’ third way, his alternative to both the oppressive leadership in Jerusalem and the violent resistance of some of his countrymen, was even more visible in his trial and on the cross than it was in his entrance. Jesus refused to defend himself or to let others defend him. Instead, Jesus made himself vulnerable to the powers of this world in an act of redemptive love. And on the cross, Jesus displayed that love above all by asking God to forgive the people who put him there.
 
These are the events that stand at the very center of our faith. These events show us how we are supposed to engage in conflict with the powers of this world when they run counter to God’s will. We can’t simply turn away. And we can’t resort to violence. Instead, we double-down on love.
 
Now, we are not Jesus. We, or maybe I should just speak for myself, I am not strong enough to do what Jesus did, to confront all the powers and principalities in our world that are contrary to God’s will. I am certainly hoping not to get crucified!
 
But we are called as disciples of Christ to follow him. As God’s people, we speak up for love and against hate, for hope and against despair, for peace and against violence. And in a world marked by sin, speaking up in the name of Christ can sometimes be costly.
 
But I go back one more time to Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem. Jesus was confronting the powers of his day. Jesus was on the way of the cross. And, it sounds like a good day.
 
Imagine being there, in the crowd, probably a little startled by the audacity of what Jesus was doing, but also full of enthusiasm. Luke tells us that the “whole multitude of the disciples began to praise God joyfully.” They celebrated “peace in heaven and glory in the highest heaven.” They recognized Jesus the king who comes in the name of the Lord.
 
As we also heard just now, harsh trials were coming. But, I say again, that first Palm Sunday was a good day. And on the other side of the trials was resurrection, a REALLY good day.
 
And so here is my prayer for us: that we can accept our responsibilities as Christian people, that we can stand strong against whatever might draw us from the love of God, but that we can stand always and above all as people of faith, hope, love, and joy.
 
In Christ’s name. Amen.