Adapted from something I wrote four years ago:
It wasn’t just an impromptu, spontaneous procession that Sunday outside of Jerusalem in the year 30 where the supporters and fans of Jesus seated him on a donkey, cried “Hosanna,” and spread palm branches in his path as children cheered.
No, Jesus had planned it in advance, using the Jewish book of Jeremiah as his guide. Here it says that a king would be coming to Jerusalem “humble and riding on a colt, the foal of a donkey.” It was to be a peaceful, procession, since Jeremiah also says that the king riding on a donkey will banish war from the land – no more chariots, war-horses, or bows.
Even more surprising is that there was a second procession that same day, at the same time, far different from that of the peaceful procession of Jesus and his enthuiastic supporters. Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan tell us: “On the opposite side of the city, from the west, Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor of Ideuma, Judea, and Samaria, entered Jerusalem at the head of a column of imperial cavalry and soldiers. It was the custom of the Roman governors of Judea to be in Jerusalem for the major Jewish festival such as Passover, in case there was trouble.
They go on: “Imagine the imperial procession’s arrival in the city: A visual barrage of imperial power; cavalry on horses, foot soldiers, leather armor, helmets, weapons, banners, golden eagles mounted on poles, sun gleaming on metal and gold… The sounds of the marching of feet, the creaking of leather, the clinking of bridles, the beating of drums. The swirling of dust. Pilate’s procession was not only about Roman power but also Roman theology, wherein the emperor was not simply the ruler of Rome, but the Son of God.”
So Jesus entered the city from the east, on a donkey, Pilate from the west, in a golden chariot. One was a peasant procession, the other an imperial procession, brandishing all of the might and power of the Roman Empire. The confrontation between these two powers continues through the last week of Jesus’ life. Holy Week is the story of this confrontation.
We, too, are conflicted, torn. The pull of the world and its obligations, along with the power of structures that hold us fast – commitments we must keep, appointments we cannot break, obligations we must honor — challenges the invitation to walk through this week with Jesus, step by step. The confrontation of powers, of authority, of loyalties, plays out in the hearts and lives of us all.
This Sunday we will carry our palms and process from the the undercroft, upstairs and outside and down Kent Street to mighty Summit Avenue, and then back to church, identifying ourselves to everyone who sees us as followers of Jesus. And then back to church where we will hear the full story…
See you there.
Barbara
