(Delayed post of my Palm Sunday sermon. On Palm Sunday we read three gospel texts: Luke 19:29-40 at the start of the service, Luke 20:1-19 in the middle, and Luke 21:37-22:6 at the end.)
God’s grace and peace be with all of you.
Today, perhaps more than any other day in the church calendar, is a day of extremes. There are some church holidays that are purely joyful—like next Sunday, Easter, will be. There are some church holidays that are somber, like Ash Wednesday or Good Friday.
And then there’s today: Palm Sunday. Or, as it’s sometimes called, Passion Sunday. Even the two names for this festival give us a clue that this is a day of extremes. On the one hand, Palm Sunday is about the palm branches, the people shouting “hosanna,” Jesus entering Jerusalem as a king. We heard that part of the story, the triumphant entry into Jerusalem, at the start of our service, waving our own palms and singing our own hosannas.
Then there’s the other part of the story, the part we call the “Passion.” Because Palm Sunday isn’t the happy ending to Jesus’ story. Consider this your spoiler alert: the gospel story doesn’t end with the people welcoming Jesus into Jerusalem, crowning him king, kicking out the Romans, and living happily ever after.
Okay, maybe after 2000 years we don’t need a spoiler alert anymore. We know how this story goes. Jesus enters Jerusalem in triumph, but before the week is out, he will be betrayed, arrested, handed over to the Romans, tortured, and killed. This is the “Passion” part of Passion Sunday—the suffering Jesus will endure at the hands of the religious and political authorities.
We will hear the whole Passion story on Good Friday, but even today, on Palm Sunday, we get hints of what’s coming. Ominous little clues of where this story is headed.
It starts right away, as Jesus is entering Jerusalem. The crowds are cheering and celebrating, but some of the Pharisees tell Jesus, “Order your disciples to stop.” Jesus, tell these people to be quiet and settle down. They’re getting too riled up. We don’t want the Romans occupying Jerusalem to get jumpy.
The tension ramps up in the gospel reading we just heard. While Jesus is teaching in the Temple in Jerusalem, he’s confronted by the chief priests and the scribes, the most important religious officials. He tells a parable—we’ll come back to that in a moment—and when the religious authorities realize the parable is a criticism against them, the gospel tells us, “They wanted to lay hands on Jesus at that very hour, but they feared the people.”
Our worship service today will end with one more gospel reading, in which one of Jesus’ own disciples goes to those religious authorities and offers to betray Jesus to them.
On this day, Palm Sunday, we see these extremes: honor and celebration and praise, on the one hand; opposition and fear and betrayal, on the other. Palm Sunday holds these extremes together, asks us to see the whole picture. When Jesus enters Jerusalem, he is welcomed as a king; and yet, at the same time, he enters Jerusalem to die.
Jesus is welcomed into Jerusalem as a king by the same crowds who will demand his death. The same people shouting “hosanna” will soon be shouting “crucify!” As we consider these extremes, the heights of praise and the depths of betrayal, it is fair to ask, why is all this happening? Why does this story take such a dark turn?
We know, because we have heard this story many times before, that Jesus is going to be killed. We can look at what happens—the Pharisees, trying to silence the crowds; the religious leaders, offended by the challenge to their authority; the crowds, drawn into a mob mentality and shouting for Jesus’ crucifixion; the Romans, quite willing to kill someone they see as the ringleader of a would-be insurrection. We can look at this whole story from the human point of view and say, this is a tragedy. This is the very worst of human sinfulness. Jealousy and greed and fear and selfishness, all conspiring to put Jesus on a cross. An alliance of religious and political leaders, all eager to hold onto their power and maintain the status quo. An unjust system that puts an innocent man to death.
All of this is true. The death of Jesus is a tragedy. And at the same time, it is exactly what Jesus intends. Jesus knows what is going to happen. Jesus goes to Jerusalem fully understanding that he will be killed. He goes anyway, because this is exactly what he came to do—this is the inevitable conclusion to the story.
So Jesus goes to Jerusalem. He throws the merchants out of the Temple. He confronts the religious authorities, telling them a parable about wicked tenants who kill the landowner’s servants and even murder the son. The parable isn’t hard to figure out. The religious authorities are the wicked tenants, defying God. Jesus is predicting his own death while at the same time inciting the religious leaders, pushing them closer to the inevitable showdown. Jesus knows where this path is leading, and he isn’t trying to change the course at all.
The Passion story, the suffering and death of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, is a tragedy. But it’s also exactly what Jesus intended to do all along. The crucifixion isn’t a mistake, a deviation from the plan; it is the whole reason Christ came to earth in the first place.
Jesus entering Jerusalem, and these final days before his death, are the culmination of his whole life. The reason Jesus was born was to come to this point, to enter Jerusalem, to be arrested, to die. This is the fulfillment of everything, going all the way back to the angel Gabriel telling Mary, “Your son will be holy; he will be called the Son of God,” all the way back to the heavenly host that appeared to the shepherds outside of Bethlehem, proclaiming, “I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord… Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!”
This is why Simeon, holding the infant Jesus in his arms in the very same Temple that Jesus returns to cleanse, praised God and said, “My eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel… This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed.”
It must be this way. Jesus must come to Jerusalem with praise and honor, he must upset the status quo, he must clash with the powers of this world, and he must go to the cross and die. This is why he was born, this is where the whole story has been leading.
The reading we heard from Philippians captures the whole story in a few short verses. Paul tells the Philippians to “let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus.” And what does that look like? Jesus, “though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death—even death on a cross.”
This is the mystery of our faith. From a human perspective, it makes no sense. How can God become human? How can obedience to the point of death lead to the salvation of the world?
But from the divine perspective, this is how it had to be. The final moments of Jesus’ life are not an accident or a mistake or a failure. Jesus knew when he entered Jerusalem that he entered it to die. In obedience to God’s will, he upset the status quo, he opposed the powers of this world—the might of Rome and the caution of the religious leaders. He accepted his betrayal at the hands of one of his own disciples, his arrest, his sham trial, and his condemnation to death.
And Jesus did all of this, not to shame the brokenness of our humanity, but to restore us. He did all of this to save the world, to defeat sin and death and inaugurate a new creation. He came down to us, to our level—experienced the whole of humanity, even our very worst—so that we might be raised up with him. On this day of extremes, this is the good news that binds it all together: Christ came to Jerusalem to die, and to save the world. Amen.
Pastor Jennifer Preaching 