PALM SUNDAY

[cappie]

Today we are celebrating Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem. The text describes how the gathered crowd waved palm branches to welcome him and shouted: Hosanna!

 Hosanna is a specific form of ancient Jewish prayer to God, asking for immediate salvation. The traditional Hoshana (Hosanna) prayers, recited during the Jewish festival of Sukkot, include a series of petitions for salvation, beginning with “For Your sake”: “For Your sake, our God,” “For Your sake, our Creator,” “For Your sake, our Redeemer.”

When seen in this original context, then, the people of Jerusalem  are praying to Jesus as their God and saviour in their midst. This, from the perspective of first-century Judaism, would be either the most sacred thing to have ever happened, or the greatest blasphemy of all time. 

With this song still echoing in our heads, we read our second Gospel. From the masses praising Christ, now the masses are seeking his death.  

Why do the crowds cry with one voice, “crucify him!”? In Rabbi Jacob Neusner’s book A Rabbi Talks with Jesus, he analyses many of Jesus’ best-known statements and concludes that much of what Jesus says is similar to the great rabbis of the day… with one enormous difference. 

Other rabbis point to worshiping God in the Temple, to being united with God in the Torah, but Jesus doesn’t merely acknowledge these teachings; over and over again, he puts himself in their place. The charge actually levelled against Jesus is a very simple one, and it’s stated plainly in today’s Gospel. Jesus declares himself to be the fulfillment of the Son of Man (seen in the Book of Daniel), the human-divine figure to whom God the Father gives all of God’s own glory and power. “Then the high priest tore his clothes and said, ‘He has blasphemed! Why do we still need witnesses? You have now heard his blasphemy. What is your verdict?’ They answered, ‘He deserves death.’” 

But what if this isn’t blasphemy? What if this isn’t antiquated mythology? What if, in fact, this simple, kind, loving rabbi is God the Son, the maker of Heaven and Earth? What if the one who tells each of us to feed, help, and even love those who hate us is Love? What if the one who tells you to take the log out of your own eye before taking the speck out of your neighbour’s eye—the one who tells you to control your own greed, selfishness, anger, unkindness, before commenting upon someone else’s—is the source of all wisdom? What would it mean if the humble lover of humans—who says to the corrupt tax collector Zacchaeus, to come down from the tree, “for today I must abide at thy house,” who says to the woman caught in adultery, “Neither do I condemn thee: go, and sin no more”—is the actual judge of each of us? 

Many people today are living under oppression, experiencing and suffering from hunger, illness, displacement, injustice, violence, insecurity, and hopelessness. Perhaps many people in this wounded world do not even feel like waving palms and shouting “Hosanna!” on a day like today. Rather, many of them feel as though they are living constantly in darkness, in despair—as if they are living an endless Holy Week, we think of the people of the Middle East. Even the procession in Jerusalem is cancelled because of the current war.

Just before Jesus made his entry, he wept. He wept as he looked over Jerusalem from above. He wept, feeling the pain of the people, their abandonment—showing them he is not a king of oppression, but a king who suffers with his people.

What would it mean if, not only a suffering servant, not merely a wise, loving teacher, not merely a religious leader or a political rebel, but God the Son himself hung on the cross, died in solidarity with your own death, descended to the dead, destroyed death itself, and forever freed you, specifically you, from the power of evil and sin? 

Well, come to church this week and find out… As we enter into this Holy Week, let us remember that we have Christ who longs to journey with us.