Sermon for April 2, 2023 – Palm Sunday
If we were in Jerusalem today, then we would be joining the Palm Sunday procession that begins at the Franciscan Church in Bethphage on the Mount of Olives. We would join Christians from every denomination from all corners of the world. The symbols of our faith would be our only common language. We would follow that ancient road along the upper ridge of the Mount of Olives, until we came to the great decent down into the Kidron Valley, passing the church that resembles a teardrop as it remembers Jesus weeping over the city of Jerusalem. We would pass the Garden of Gethsemane and cross the Kidron Valley on the road that would take us to Saint Stephen's Gate and into the Old City; only a few hundred feet away from the Praetorium where Jesus would be sentenced to death, five days later. I have made this walk three times in my life, and each time it has changed the way I experience these next seven days.
On the first Palm Sunday there were actually two processions entering Jerusalem that day. Once a year, coming from Caesarea was the Roman Emperor’s Imperial procession headed by Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor coming to Jerusalem to keep the peace, the Pax Romana, during the Passover. Each year the Governor would leave his palatial home on the coast and head inland across the plains towards the desert, and up to the hot, suffocating overcrowded city of Jerusalem.
Because Passover is the Jewish celebration of liberation from slavery by Moses in Egypt, Pilate came to Jerusalem so that he could keep an eye on the city and all of the foreign pilgrims who have come from all over the Mediterranean and beyond for the Passover festival. The city is bursting at the seams. Pilgrim encampments pop-up all around the walls and beyond. Tensions are high. It is a powder keg ready to explode. One spark was all that was needed. So, Pilate came to oversee the suppression of all insurrections that might be sparked by the celebration of freedom from Egypt. He knows he is hopelessly outnumbered, so he is projecting the full might of Rome.
Pilate entered at the head of a column of imperial cavalry and soldiers. Swords, shields, and armor blindingly reflecting the the sun and the glory of Rome. Pilate’s procession was not only to proclaim the imperial power of Rome over the people, but also Rome’s imperial theology. According to this theology the emperor was not simply the ruler of Rome, but carried the divine title of “Son of God” that made him a god in the eyes of the people; though most people living under Roman rule would not agree with the emperor’s divinity. That procession entered Jerusalem from the west, winding its way from the coast, across the plains, and up into the arid hills of Jerusalem.
The second procession entered Jerusalem from the east. It began in Jericho and journeyed across the Judean wilderness and up into Jerusalem, with Jesus at its head. The late Marcus Borg calls Jesus’ procession on Palm Sunday the “peasant’s procession.” For this procession was made up of followers of Jesus from the peasant class. The message of Jesus was the Kingdom of God, and of course the title “Son of God” was also ascribed to Jesus. As Jesus spread the good News of the Kingdom of God he drew to himself all of those who were on the margins of society assuring them that God’s kingdom is not like the kingdoms of this world.
So, entering Jerusalem that day were two radically different processions. One coming from the west and one coming from the east. One procession representing the empire, and the other representing the Kingdom of God. One leader, Pontius Pilate, riding a horse; one leader, Jesus, riding a donkey. Both represented rival theologies but both carried the same title, Son of God.
Along with these two processions, Marcus Borg also points out to us the foliage of Palm Sunday in his book The Last Week. This morning we began our journey to Jerusalem, and as we processed around the nave, we were waving our palm branches. However, had we been in Jerusalem on that first Palm Sunday the vast majority of people would not have been waving palms, but waving olive branches, or what the gospels of Matthew and Mark describe as “leafy branches.” It is only in the Gospel of John that the palm branch is mentioned and Luke doesn’t mention any foliage at all.
In Roman Palestine the palm branch represented the emperor and the imperial government of Rome. On Roman coins, one side would have the face of the emperor and on the other was a palm branch. It was a symbol of power, glory, violence. It represented Caesar and the brutal oppression of the Empire. And when Jesus entered Jerusalem, John chose the palm branch to represent that type of magisterium. Quite in contrast is Matthew and Mark, who see Jesus entering Jerusalem in a very different way. The people in their gospels were waving olive branches, the symbol of peace, of God’s promise and covenant to Noah after the flood when the dove brought back the olive branch. This king, Marcus Borg argues, riding on a donkey will banish war from the land. No more chariots. No more war horses. No more death, but commending peace to the nations. Jesus will be the king of peace. A symbol of that rule on earth is the olive branch.
What we experience today in this Palm Sunday is the palm branch versus the olive branch; or the divine reversal. God is turning upside down everything that we hold to be so important in our lives. Jesus challenges the imperial authority by choosing to ride on a donkey, a pack animal used as a beast of burden. By entering into the city in such a manner Jesus is living into the prophecies of the coming of the Messiah that will usher in an everlasting age of peace in the presence of God.
The peace of God, the peace that Jesus proclaimed is radically different from the peace that Rome offered. The Pax Romana always comes with violence. It always comes with oppression. Instead Jesus has a vision of the Kingdom of God; no more war, no more oppression. Instead the peace of God means justice for all, and we are challenged to love others and walk humbly with our God. Jesus was committed to God’s passion for compassion, justice and nonviolence. Compassion, loving and serving others are central to the message of Jesus. And justice is always a form of social compassion.
Two processions entered into Jerusalem today. One representing Caesar and the machine of war; the other representing the Prince of Peace. One representing the palm branch of power and one representing the olive branch of peace. The question we must ask ourselves today is what procession am I in? Am I metaphorically carrying an olive branch or a palm branch? That is certainly the question of Palm Sunday. That is the question we must ask ourselves each and every day. How am I bringing about the Kingdom of God? We know how this story ends. We know that hope wins, that love wins, that God wins; death and sin no longer have the final say. As we accompany our savior this week, from his entry into the holy city, through his final meal with his friends, we will sit at the Cross in silence and hold fast to the hope for the empty tomb that will surely come with the Easter morn. I pray that we may have the grace to follow him to the Cross, so that ultimately, we might participate in his resurrection and be a light to the world.
