March 28, 2010 - Palm Sunday, Year C (RCL)
It was Passover time,
that time of year
when Jerusalem filled to overflowing
with faithful Jews
come for their annual celebration
of the Exodus,
when Moses led their people
from slavery in Egypt
into the
promised
land.
And the government didn’t need secret agents to tell it
that of all times of the year
this was the most dangerous. This was the one
most likely to lead to trouble. This was the one holiday, if any,
when the resentment of the Jews towards their Roman overlords
was likely to spill over
into violence.
After all, the connection was obvious.
Egyptian overlords: Roman overlords.
Israelites as slaves: Israelites as conquered people.
Escape to the promised land: Throw the conquerors out of the promised land.
Moses: no Moses...yet.
No wonder there had been a procession earlier that week,
a procession from the fort in Caesarea
into the heart of Jerusalem,
Pilate the governor
draped in the glory of imperial power,
horses, chariots, gleaming armor,
making it very clear
that he was the one in charge,
and any thought of rebellion
would quickly be suppressed.
And with six thousand troops
to back him up,
and another thirty thousand
in the next province over,
he wanted to make it clear that he held
the upper hand.
And there is little doubt
that Pilate was ready to use his power
in whatever way
was necessary. In his dealings with Jesus,
at least as the gospels portray him,
Pilate seems to be a weak but innocent man, bowing to political pressure. But that’s an unusually kind view.
Philo, a Jewish philosopher writing at the time, said that Pilate was “a man of inflexible, stubborn and cruel disposition”; He refers to Pilate's "venality, his violence, thefts, assaults, abusive behavior, endless executions, endless savage ferocity."
Pilate didn’t want his resume marred
by riots, or, even worse
the emergence
of a new Messiah,
and he would do anything necessary
to enforce his kind
of peace.
He reminds me of another ruler,
another one threatened
by the rumor of an alternative leader.
Remember Herod,
the king at the time
that Jesus was born?
“Inflexible, stubborn and cruel”
would have been just as appropriate
a description of him.
When he heard
that a new king was to be born in Bethlehem,
his response
was to send in soldiers
and kill all the babies - just in case one of them
was this new king.
Herod and Pilate
were two of a kind.
Which makes me wonder
what was going on that day
when Jesus climbed onto an unbroken horse,
and rode
into Jerusalem.
It wasn’t a planned procession, not like Pilate’s,
no warhorses or armor or swords.
Just Jesus, balanced on some cloaks on the back of the colt,
a few disciples
walking alongside.
And the crowds.
That’s what was really different.
Because when Pilate came into town,
there were no crowds. Not watching the procession, anyway.
Most of the people stayed away.
Except for the diehard Roman supporters, mostly immigrants and traders,
the people stayed safely inside, doors firmly shut,
kids peering out the windows,
but no allowed out.
It was too dangerous: six thousand soldiers
itching for a fight,
and anything they said or did could be misinterpreted.
The city was unusually silent,
and it was not until Pilate and his army were safely inside the fort
that the people came out again, though the mood of the city
remained subdued.
Soldiers in front of the public buildings and patrolling the streets,
secret agents and informants lurking in marketplaces and bars.
The city was hushed,
and not even the anticipation of the Passover feast
was enough to lift the mood.
But then came Jesus. Ordinary, unassuming,
yes, people had heard of him,
but when he came to town, it wasn’t until he was right in the middle of them all
that they even noticed him.
His clothes were nothing special;
it was really only the horse that set him apart from the other rural pilgrims coming on foot,
and even the horse
was just a colt,
young enough that his coat was still rough and fluffy,
and there was no saddle, just a couple of cloaks
thrown across his back.
But as he rode along the lanes into the heart of Jerusalem,
slowly people began to gather,
first just a couple, trailing after him,
and then the word began to travel ahead of them,
and people came out from their homes and shops and businesses
and began to cheer
and then made a carpet with their cloaks for him to ride over.
And the disciples
began to shout,
“Blessed is the king
who comes in the name of the Lord!
Peace in heaven,
and glory in the highest heaven!”
Which reminds us of those words
spoken by angels
on the day
that Jesus was born.
“Glory to God in the highest heaven,
and on earth peace among those whom he favors!”
Glory to God.
Peace on earth - and peace in heaven.
As he was born,
and as he headed towards death,
Jesus was proclaimed
as the bringer of peace.
The people were celebrating,
but the Pharisees
were nervous.
They’d seen Pilate arrive, seen his soldiers
lurking around the temple;
they knew
that it would not take much
for the might of Rome
to be unleashed on Jerusalem,
and they wanted their Passover
to go ahead without interruption.
“Be quiet!” they hiss at Jesus. “Tell them to stop shouting.”
“Sorry,” says Jesus. “ It’s out of my hands. .
If they stop,
the stones themselves will shout.”
But the Pharisees
were the only
opposition.
The disciples
continued to shout.
The people continued to spread their cloaks.
Pilate
was invisible.
And Jesus entered into Jerusalem,
a triumphal procession
of the king of kings,
the prince
of peace.
So why did Pilate
do nothing?
Was it simply that
he didn’t hear the rumors
until it was too late?
Did he assume
that this Jesus
wasn’t worth bothering about?
The bible doesn’t tell us.
But what is clear
is that God in Jesus
could not be stopped.
God’s message
could not be silenced.
Even the threat of the Roman army
and the warnings of the religious establishment
could not prevent
God’s work in this world.
This week, our country has erupted
in a cacophony of fear.
Threats are being made,
calls to violence.
There were suggestions
that this country is on the brink
of a new civil war,
one not waged by two armies, but by individual
against individual.
It doesn’t matter
whether you agree with the health legislation or not,
as Christians we serve the prince of peace. Violence
is unacceptable as a means of dealing with political disagreements.
And two things follow,
if we take the story of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem seriously.
One is that in the face of violence,
we cannot remain silent.
As Christians, we believe that inciting people to violence
is wrong.
The witness we bear
is that violence doesn’t solve anything; we are bound
to work for peace,
not just on an international level,
but within our own communities.
That doesn’t mean we don’t disagree,
just that violence is not the way
we resolve our disagreements.
And the second thing is that
we do not need
to succumb to fear.
Because God is in control,
will win, in the end,
God will win.
© Raewynne J. Whiteley 2010