Luke 19:28-40
Jesus headed straight up to Jerusalem. When he got near Bethphage and Bethany at the mountain called Olives, he sent off two of the disciples with instructions: “Go to the village across from you. As soon as you enter, you’ll find a colt tethered, one that has never been ridden. Untie it and bring it. If anyone says anything, asks, ‘What are you doing?’ say, ‘His Master needs him.’”
The two left and found it just as he said. As they were untying the colt, its owners said, “What are you doing untying the colt?”
They said, “His Master needs him.”
They brought the colt to Jesus. Then, throwing their coats on its back, they helped Jesus get on. As he rode, the people gave him a grand welcome, throwing their coats on the street.
Right at the crest, where Mount Olives begins its descent, the whole crowd of disciples burst into enthusiastic praise over all the mighty works they had witnessed:
Blessed is he who comes, the king in God’s name!
All’s well in heaven! Glory in the high places!
Some Pharisees from the crowd told him, “Teacher, get your disciples under control!”
But he said, “If they kept quiet, the stones would do it for them, shouting praise.”
We’re back to Luke again for our scripture today and Luke’s version of the return to Jerusalem seems rather stripped-down in comparison with some of the other gospel versions. For instance, there’s not a single palm branch to be found here in this Palm Sunday reading.
Last week’s story of the gathering at the home of Lazarus, Martha, and Mary came from John’s gospel, not Luke’s, because there is no version of that particular story in Luke (although there is a very similar one with a different cast of characters), and there the “triumphal” parade does come directly after leaving Bethany. But in Luke’s version of things, Jesus arrives in Jerusalem by way of Jericho where he invites himself to dinner with the reviled Zacchaeus before continuing on with his journey.
These things are just a reminder that it is very hard to piece together a coherent story-line when what we know of Jesus’ life and death comes from four different sources written at four different times for four different communities. The best we can do is take an educated guess at a progression of events.
The story of Palm Sunday, with or without palms, is told in all four gospels although the accounts do not completely tally up. In some versions there are palms, in others, no palms, just cloaks. In some there’s a large crowd, seemingly well-planned. In others the crowd appears to be much smaller and somewhat ad hoc.
These are the things we can surmise:
Jesus wasn’t headed into Jerusalem because he’d been told that he was scheduled to be the star of the big parade that day. He was simply heading into Jerusalem. Period. The palm fronds and the cheering were not penciled into his agenda. He was just leaving the outlying country and going into the city, for his own reasons.
The crowd likely was not waiting for him, all lined up in advance. The people probably just showed up, one or two at a time as they heard he was there.
Some, perhaps, were there because they had heard him teaching or seen him heal a leper or a blind man and they wanted to see more of him. They were excited to see and hear him again.
Some were possibly the first-century equivalent of ambulance chasers—ones who had heard that the authorities were out after him and were ghoulishly excited at the prospect of a little violence and maybe bloodshed. Human beings are, unfortunately, not always nice.
Some most likely knew nothing of what was going on and simply got caught up in the exhilaration of the moment.
What we do know (based on the Bible) is that the reaction of the crowd and their cheering for Jesus were most likely the final turning point in our story. Especially since in at least two of the gospels, Jesus appears to go straight from the welcoming to the Temple, where he kicked out the moneychangers.
The religious authorities could not and would not allow this to pass. Jesus now had to be stopped or there would be open insurrection, and the Roman empire was not known for its tolerance where any perceived threat to its dominance was noted. Retribution, when it came, would be swift and brutal.
The Temple leaders immediately gathered to discuss how to deal with the threat offered by this teacher/healer named Jesus. The answer they came up with leads us into Holy Week.
This week I was especially taken with Thursday’s meditation reading, the one based on Psalm 31. The last words that Jesus spoke from the cross, according to Luke, would be taken from this psalm: 'Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.' As an aside, these were also the last words spoken by the martyr Stephen, as he was being stoned to death.
Psalm 31 is a prayer to be delivered from one’s hateful enemies, but it is also a prayer of ultimate faith in God’s unfailing care.
Jesus was educated in the scriptures. He knew the history of Israel and it’s frequent rejection of those sent from God. He would have been something of a fool to not be afraid of where his storyline was leading. But he also knew his God, enough to trust the promises in spite of the path on which he was being led.
So, yes, there was praise on this day. There were belief and trust and even love in the eyes of those gathered to greet him. There would have been the knowledge that he had reached this many, at least, touched their lives and changed them in some way. But there must also have been the question of whether or not it would be enough. Did they truly understand what he tried to teach them? Would there be enough of his followers to carry on his work?
But there would also have been, that day, as every moment of his life, an absolute trust in the one he knew as intimately as “Abba.”
His times, in the words of the Psalm, were in God’s hand. It was enough and more.
Last week’s story of the gathering at the home of Lazarus, Martha, and Mary came from John’s gospel, not Luke’s, because there is no version of that particular story in Luke (although there is a very similar one with a different cast of characters), and there the “triumphal” parade does come directly after leaving Bethany. But in Luke’s version of things, Jesus arrives in Jerusalem by way of Jericho where he invites himself to dinner with the reviled Zacchaeus before continuing on with his journey.
These things are just a reminder that it is very hard to piece together a coherent story-line when what we know of Jesus’ life and death comes from four different sources written at four different times for four different communities. The best we can do is take an educated guess at a progression of events.
The story of Palm Sunday, with or without palms, is told in all four gospels although the accounts do not completely tally up. In some versions there are palms, in others, no palms, just cloaks. In some there’s a large crowd, seemingly well-planned. In others the crowd appears to be much smaller and somewhat ad hoc.
These are the things we can surmise:
Jesus wasn’t headed into Jerusalem because he’d been told that he was scheduled to be the star of the big parade that day. He was simply heading into Jerusalem. Period. The palm fronds and the cheering were not penciled into his agenda. He was just leaving the outlying country and going into the city, for his own reasons.
The crowd likely was not waiting for him, all lined up in advance. The people probably just showed up, one or two at a time as they heard he was there.
Some, perhaps, were there because they had heard him teaching or seen him heal a leper or a blind man and they wanted to see more of him. They were excited to see and hear him again.
Some were possibly the first-century equivalent of ambulance chasers—ones who had heard that the authorities were out after him and were ghoulishly excited at the prospect of a little violence and maybe bloodshed. Human beings are, unfortunately, not always nice.
Some most likely knew nothing of what was going on and simply got caught up in the exhilaration of the moment.
What we do know (based on the Bible) is that the reaction of the crowd and their cheering for Jesus were most likely the final turning point in our story. Especially since in at least two of the gospels, Jesus appears to go straight from the welcoming to the Temple, where he kicked out the moneychangers.
The religious authorities could not and would not allow this to pass. Jesus now had to be stopped or there would be open insurrection, and the Roman empire was not known for its tolerance where any perceived threat to its dominance was noted. Retribution, when it came, would be swift and brutal.
The Temple leaders immediately gathered to discuss how to deal with the threat offered by this teacher/healer named Jesus. The answer they came up with leads us into Holy Week.
This week I was especially taken with Thursday’s meditation reading, the one based on Psalm 31. The last words that Jesus spoke from the cross, according to Luke, would be taken from this psalm: 'Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.' As an aside, these were also the last words spoken by the martyr Stephen, as he was being stoned to death.
Psalm 31 is a prayer to be delivered from one’s hateful enemies, but it is also a prayer of ultimate faith in God’s unfailing care.
- I am the scorn of all my adversaries, a horror to my neighbors,
an object of dread to my acquaintances;
those who see me in the street flee from me.
I have passed out of mind like one who is dead;
I have become like a broken vessel.
For I hear the whispering of many— terror all around!--
as they scheme together against me, as they plot to take my life.
Jesus was educated in the scriptures. He knew the history of Israel and it’s frequent rejection of those sent from God. He would have been something of a fool to not be afraid of where his storyline was leading. But he also knew his God, enough to trust the promises in spite of the path on which he was being led.
So, yes, there was praise on this day. There were belief and trust and even love in the eyes of those gathered to greet him. There would have been the knowledge that he had reached this many, at least, touched their lives and changed them in some way. But there must also have been the question of whether or not it would be enough. Did they truly understand what he tried to teach them? Would there be enough of his followers to carry on his work?
But there would also have been, that day, as every moment of his life, an absolute trust in the one he knew as intimately as “Abba.”
His times, in the words of the Psalm, were in God’s hand. It was enough and more.
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