Rev.
Ann C. Fox
(508) 992-7081
UFairhaven@aol.com
Unitarian Universalist
Society of Fairhaven
Beyond Palms and Parades
a sermon by Rev. Ann C. Fox
April 1, 2007
Note: A reading is attached, which you might like to read first.
We are story people. Every day of our lives is a story-making day. Yesterday, we held a Celebration of Life service for Joan Boucher. Two of her friends told a story about Joan. They said, “Before the Iraq war, Joan went to a peace rally on the Boston Common. It became ugly when young men were there shouting accusations at the demonstrators for being traitors to their country. Joan held up her hands and said, ‘I am an old lady. I love my country and so I want peace.’ The young men became silent. We have a photo of Joan holding over her head a large 1960’s style peace sign. That photo was greatly enlarged and displayed in the Parish House yesterday. She has become part of our story.
We are people of the story. We live by stories. Each of our stories fits into another story, a greater story, and then a greater still. No one was more aware of this than the Jews. Inside their historical story was their sacred story.
Early Christians intended to create a new story. It had better be good, for the old story into which they thought they would fit—the Jewish story was crumbling around them. Or at least would be withheld from them if they insisted on their new Messiah.
Today is Palm Sunday. It begins the week that Christians call “Holy Week.” This year, the Jewish Passover celebration coincides with the date of Holy Week. Passover begins on Tuesday at sundown. When Jesus, the Jew, began his journey from Galilee in the north to Jerusalem in the south, he was making the annual pilgrimage to the Jerusalem temple for the festival of Passover, a joyful and holy time for Jews. (In 2008, Easter and Passover will be more than a month apart.)
Today, we’ll inquire into Jesus’ journey from Galilee to Jerusalem as told in the Gospel of Mark, the earliest of the four Gospels and much of this Gospel was incorporated into the Gospels of Matthew and Luke, who added on their stories and perceptions. Scholars say that the Gospel of Mark was written between 60 and 75 CE (the Common Era), which was 30 to 45 years after Jesus’ death. Forty per cent of Mark’s Gospel documents Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem. Jesus has many experiences on the way. He performs many healing miracles, teaches mostly the peasant people, challenges temple authorities, and makes many people mad at him, including his own family. Just before Jesus and his followers reach Jericho, for the third time Jesus makes a prediction to the twelve disciples of his capture and death. He said, “We are going up to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man will be handed over to the chief priests and the scribes, and they will condemn him to death and hand him over to the Gentiles who will mock him…and put him to death, but after three days he will rise.” (Mark: 10:33-34) One significant teaching and one healing later, they begin their entry into Jerusalem and these are the words of Mark (Mark: 11:1-11, and for those of you who like to play with numbers, these verses are Mark, Chapter 11, verses 1-11, so 11,1,11. I don’t know what that means but there it is.) By this time, Jesus had accumulated a number of people around him as well as the Twelve for he had kept inviting certain people to “Follow me!” His followers might have gone ahead of him to let people in the streets know that he was coming. You might like to allow the picture to form in your mind. Here it is:
“When they drew near to Jerusalem, to Bethphage and Bethany at the Mount of Olives, he sent two of his disciples and said to them, ‘Go into the village opposite you, and immediately on entering it, you will find a colt tethered, on which no one has ever sat. Untie it and bring it here. If anyone should say to you, ‘Why are you doing this?’ reply, ‘The Lord has need of it and will send it back immediately.’ So they went off and found a colt tethered at a gate outside on the street, and they untied it. Some of the bystanders said to them, ‘What are you doing untying the colt?’ They answered them just as Jesus had told them to, and they permitted them to do it. So they brought the colt to Jesus and put their cloaks over it. And he sat on it. Many people spread their cloaks on the road, and others spread leafy branches that they had cut from the fields. Those preceding him as well as those following kept crying out:
“Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name
of The Lord!
Blessed is the kingdom of our father David that is
to come!
Hosanna in the highest!”
He entered Jerusalem and went into the temple area. He looked around at everything and, since it was already late, went out to Bethany with the Twelve.
This was a parade, a parade with a messiah on a colt that had been prophesied in Hebrew scripture, in the book of Zachariah, hundreds of years before. Since Jesus, like the writer of Mark, was well versed in Hebrew scripture, he could well have intentionally created what was prophesied. But the Gospel writers very likely did it with a wry twist. But before we get into that, it is time for a humor break.
It was Palm Sunday but because of a sore throat, 5-year-old Johnny stayed home from church with a sitter. When the family returned home, they were carrying several palm fronds. Johnny asked them what they were for. "People held them over Jesus' head as he walked by," his father told him. "Wouldn't you know it," Johnny fumed, "the one Sunday I don't go and Jesus shows up."
In Roman occupied territories, Commanders would enter into a city in a grand military parade designed to strike awe and fear in the hearts of the occupied people. The Romans had long ago removed the Hebrew king of Judah and replaced him with a Roman consul, Pontius Pilate in this case, and the consul would rule, brutally, in cooperation with the native elite of each city or region. In this case, the elite were the temple priests, especially the high priest, and scribes; they were the collaborators. The consul would not have lived in Jerusalem but in the pleasant and gorgeous seaside city of Caesarea Maritima, built by Herod the Great. Because Passover was known to be a Jewish holiday when there could be trouble because of the thousands of Jews converging on the city, the Romans would have entered Jerusalem from the west about the time Jesus was approaching from the east. The Roman entry would have been the grand entry of an oppressor force but also one of a vastly different theology, with their general representing the Roman Emperor, the Son of God, their God. The general and consul would likely have ridden on magnificent horses while Jesus would be on a donkey.
Jesus’ parade would have been a “counter-culture” parade, almost a parody of the Roman parade. The people lining the streets would love it for they would know that he would be fulfilling the prophecy that a son of David would be representing the Kingdom of God, which would mean a time of social justice for all. The people would have been glad to lay their garments in a form of respect for one who reminded them of their commitment to “The Way” of their God. It is likely that the people would appreciate Jesus’ bravery. It is also likely that someone would have told the temple authorities about Jesus’ latest shenanigans. Jesus’ parade was to give heart to the people and to trigger the promise of following The Way of the Lord. Jesus’ entry was not only aimed at the Roman domination system but also at the temple collaborators who had caused their own people to become poorer as they and the Romans became richer.
Can you see in your mind the two parades? Jesus in his simple robes is on a baby donkey, with his toes likely almost brushing the ground and representing his kingdom, the kingdom of justice. Caesar’s representatives would be wearing splendid clothing, seated on their magnificent steeds, and with a great army of centurions following. One parade offers The Way, the other brutal domination.
Into this story was running another stream of belief, a new one for the Jews; it was the belief that the world was coming to an end. Dozens of itinerant preachers were wandering around Israel proclaiming the Apocalypse—the end of the world. They certainly had reason to believe that there could be nothing more brutal than they were experiencing under Roman rule with thousands of people each year being crucified in front of their eyes and in every visible place, designed to strike terror in the hearts of the people.
The earliest Christian scripture is actually the letters of Saul of Tarsus (or St. Paul) and he was absolutely certain that the world would end. Paul counseled everyone to live a pure life in preparation for that end. But thirty to forty years after Jesus’ death the end times had not come. So what story could they tell that would be plausible and comforting and that would attract new followers of the new Way. Jesus’ death had to be more meaningful than that of shamefully dying on a cross. Could it be thought of as a sacrifice? After all, Jews had been sacrificing animals in the temple for a thousand years to atone for their sins. Why not have a special person being a sacrifice?
In the week from the entry into Jerusalem to the Feast of the Unleavened Bread, the beginning of Passover, Jesus was very busy teaching and preaching and answering challenges from temple authorities, and making predictions on what was to come: his own death. The Gospel of Mark gives a clearly timed description of the week and Jesus’ death on what we now call Good Friday.
In your adulthood, what have you understood from the stories about Jesus’ death that you were taught from your childhood or that you have just heard in the culture? I did not know in my childhood that the Romans crucified thousands of people wherever they went to control those they conquered. Nowadays, I look upon Jesus’ death as an example of man’s inhumanity towards man. A wise and brave teacher was put to death. How tragic! The Jews and Gentiles who found Jesus’ story and teachings compelling, extended Jewish scripture to include Jesus. Modern scholars tell us that only one year of Jesus’ life was recorded because the writers expected it to fit into the liturgical year of the Jewish calendar. However, because Jewish insurgents (or terrorists) kept hitting out at Roman authorities and even at their own temple authorities, the Romans decided to smash the power of the Jews for good. In the year 70 of the modern era, they entered Jerusalem, killed thousands of Jews and smashed the sacred temple to pieces. That was the end of priestly Judaism. There were no more sacrifices. Judaism moved into the home and the Yeshiva, the school.
Each of the Gospel writers wrote their own version of who Jesus was and each revealed the meaning of his life. Some of the Gospels share the same stories with small differences, some have conflicting differences, and one Gospel might have a unique story.
There is much to consider in the story of Holy Week, but regarding Palm Sunday, all four Gospels record the ride into Jerusalem in the manner prophesied in Zachariah about the coming messiah.
What might it mean to have a Messiah born, an anointed one, who would come to herald in the time of social justice for all. Perhaps, however, the ideal time of the messiah to come is a psychological state of understanding within the human race, a future time when we have evolved sufficiently that there truly is “justice for all.” Perhaps all these stories point to human evolution and Jesus’ teachings help that evolution. Our fourth principle calls us to a “free and responsible search for truth and meaning.” Perhaps Holy Week gives us an opportunity to further our search. In the meantime, everyone loves a parade! When offered a choice as to which parade to join, which will you choose? Would you choose the one displaying finery and power and serving Mammon? Or the simpler one of inner strength, the one that allows us to proclaim, “Hosanna in the Highest”? The peace and justice of our world depends on the choices of its people. May we choose well.
Reference
Borg, Marcus J. & Crossan, John Dominic. The Last Week: What the Gospels Really Teach About Jesus’s Final Days in Jerusalem, San Francisco: HarperCollins Publishers, 2006.
Reading: From The Last Week
by Marcus J. Borg and John Dominic Crossan
“Jerusalem was not just any city. By the first century, it had been the center of the sacred geography of the Jewish people for a millennium. And ever since, it has been central to the sacred imagination of both Jews and Christians. Its associations are both positive and negative. It is the city of God and the faithless city, the city of hope and the city of oppression, the city of joy and the city of pain.
Jerusalem became the capital of ancient Israel in the time of King David, around 1000 BCE. Under David and his son Solomon, Israel experienced the greatest period in its history. The country was united, all twelve tribes under one king; it was at its largest; it was powerful and thus its people were safe from marauding neighbors; a glorious temple was built by Solomon in Jerusalem. David’s reign in particular (and not Solomon’s) was seen not only as a time of power and glory, but also of justice and righteousness in the land. David was the just and righteous king. He became associated with goodness, power, protection, and justice; he was the ideal shepherd-king, the apple of God’s eye, even God’s son.
The time of glory, the ideal time, was remembered. So revered did David become that the hoped-for future deliverer, the messiah, was expected to be a “son of David,” a new David, indeed greater than David. And this new David, this son of David would rule a restored kingdom from Jerusalem. Jerusalem was thus associated with Israel’s hope of future glory—a glory involving justice and peace as much or more than it involved power.”
© The Rev. Ann C. Fox