Sunday, April 17, 2011

ONE WAY STREET

April 17, 2011
Palm Sunday
Matthew 21:1-11
Psalm 31:9-16

(prayer)

It has taken a while, but we are here: Palm Sunday, the start of Holy Week. The most significant day of the Christian Tradition (Easter) is only one week away.

Because the date of Easter varies (based on the timing of the Spring Equinox and the full moon) it can happen anytime between March 22nd and April 25th. This means that the latest possible date for Palm Sunday is April 18th. We have to wait until the year 2160 for that to happen. We can just accept that as far as the lateness of the season, it has taken us a while to get here.

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When Jesus and his disciples headed south for (what would turn out to be) their last Passover festival, most Biblical sources imply that they made their camp on the Mount of Olives: a hill adjacent to mount Zion, where the temple was built. Matthew calls the community Bethpage: just outside the city of Jerusalem.

As we saw and heard this morning, Jesus made a conscious decision to enter the city in a memorable way. He seems to have been inspired by an image in the prophetic writings of Zechariah. (9:9"Rejoice greatly, O daughter Zion! Shout aloud, O daughter Jerusalem! Lo, your king comes to you; triumphant and victorious is he, humble and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.")

It is an intentional paradox: the great triumphant king riding on a small colt. It is striking: not just in Jesus’ day, but also in its original context from Zechariah’s time. Zechariah lived in the late sixth century before Jesus: a time after the Hebrew people had returned to Judah after decades of exile in Babylon. It was a time of reclamation, of restoration: the Temple of Solomon had been laid to ruin. Zechariah lived when a second temple was being built and the Hebrew people were re-storing their identity and their place in the world. It was a time of relative peace in the History of Israel.

Zechariah’s regal image is that of a peace-time king: the battles are over, the war horse is in the stable and the sword and shield are in storage (you might as well beat ‘em into plough-shears). To come as he did, the king was an obvious presence, devoid of intimidation or threat. It is an image of comfort and hope to a people who have known violence and oppression.

Jesus chose to echo Zechariah as he and his disciples came into Jerusalem. He was trying to be noticed in a very specific way.

[Now, don’t pay too much attention to the fact that Matthew interpreted Zechariah more literally that the other gospel writers. Matthew seems to think Zechariah spoke about two animals: a donkey and its foal. So, today’s gospel reading actually says that Jesus both animals - at the same time. As a matter of history, I doubt very much that this was the way it was. Just another warning against the dangers of blind literalism!]

The event is so powerfully poignant: a grown man on a small colt; adoring crowds recognizing a measure of importance in Jesus. They treat him with honour and respect, shouting calls that speak to his leadership: “Save us (hosanna), son of David! Blessed is the one who comes in the same of the Lord.”: words from Psalm 118: a prayer of confidence that God is present and active in our midst.

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When Jesus comes through the gate in the wall of Jerusalem on that small colt, he is literally entering the narrow streets of the grand city, but he is also committing to a narrow path that quickly becomes a road of no return.

As memorable as Palm Sunday was, it is the events of the days that follow that are the heart of the story.

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Each gospel writer describes things a bit differently, but they all describe a progress of events which see an increasingly tense and inevitable course.

The very next section in the gospel of Matthew that follows today’s Palm Sunday account is Jesus going into the Temple and making a scene over the intrusion of commerce on this sacred ground. Passover was a busy time for the Hebrew people: a recognition and re-enactment of the liberation from slavery n Egypt in the time of Moses. Pilgrims from many out-lying areas came to Jerusalem to offer sacrifices at the temple. Some needed to exchange their money into Temple currency, some were not able to bring animals for sacrifice. So, supply and demand went to work in the Temple courtyard.

Jesus was an idealist and was deeply bothered by the lack of focus on the reason for the season. 21:12 ...Jesus drove out all who were selling and buying in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the money-changers and the seats of those who sold doves ... 14The blind and the lame came to him in the temple, and he cured them.

All of this did not sit well with the Temple authorities (priests and scribes). Matthew’s gospel says that they asked Jesus: 23... ‘By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority?’

I’m not sure what the exact conversation was but, basically they asked, “Who the h#ll are you? What gives you the right to act like this?”

Jesus entered Jerusalem in a paradoxical way (the humble, but great king). Now the paradox continued: Jesus had an obvious authority (people listened to what he said and acted on his words; people came to him believing that he could help them), but that authority hadn’t been authorized.

The narrow path of this holy week was now to be marked by confrontation: a conflicting of Jesus unofficial authority and the sanctioned authority of the hierarchy. The paradox continued: the teachers of the law who espoused the lessons of the prophets of old, were now in conflict with a new kind of prophet. And Jesus played right into this dichotomy: he told stories about ‘underdogs’ gaining more favour than the ‘privileged’ – slaves with more righteousness than their masters – wedding banquets where the honoured guests were the ones ‘good people’ avoided.

Jesus challenged the authority and practice of the Jerusalem religious leaders. And Jesus shared some of his most profound teachings in word and deed that week. From the parable of the Talents to a memorial in bread and wine, Jesus left an impression on those close to him.

Jesus also got political: offering opinions on paying taxes to Rome and who really is lord of the land: Caesar or God. This political dimension became more significant as the week went on and the news trickled up the ladders of power that someone was being touted as a king: he even road into town in the regal manner described by one of their ancient prophets.

This was significant as it had only been 100 years since Rome had regained control of Judea which was ruled by the Maccabees for a century from 164-63BCE. Governor Pilate had to be concerned about any rumours of potential repeat revolutions.

This narrow path of holy week lead a collision of the religious and the political as Jesus was called to account both to the Temple Sanhedrin Council and to the Regional Roman Governor. The religious charges of blasphemy were controversial, but the civil charges of treason were criminal.

The paradox continued: the adoring Palm Sunday crowds that once shouted Hosanna, now demanded crucifixion. Loyal disciples betrayed and denied.

When it was clear that Jesus was on a one-way road to the cross, he let his silence speak his contempt.

//

// (silence)

//

I’m not sure what to make of the concept of ‘fate’. I guess I stubbornly want to believe that I have a chance to make a difference – that I am not just going through the motions.

So, it is hard for me to say that it was Jesus’ fate to die on the Roman cross. I accept that to the first generations of Christians there was comfort in making a connection from the prophetic history of hope and the events of Jesus’ final days. This was good news for them, because they carried the story that death was not the end of Jesus for his followers. Fantastic accounts of a living resurrection and certainly an inward feeling based faith that the spirit of Jesus endured as the Risen Christ in the life of the church. I accept that, as the story was written down and shared, it reads like a story of fate.

For me, I don’t know about fate. So, I tend to approach this holy week as stories of cause and effect and an increasing ‘narrowing of options’.

I believe that Jesus found himself on a path that may have began wide, with chances to change direction, even backtrack – but quickly became a one way street with no choice but to move forward.

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Jesus may have been abandoned by both the fickle crowd and loyal followers alike, but the centre of the story of Holy Week is that Jesus is not alone. Even when he feels alone, as he quotes Psalm 22 from the cross, ‘why have you forsaken me?’, Jesus is not alone.

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This is not a matter of measurable fact, but of elusive faith. We all have this challenge – can we open up our spirits enough to leave room for the possibility that there is more than ourselves in there. Can we discover that feeling where we are able to somehow discern that the source of life, God, is our companion in this existence?

That’s my message for us this holy week: when abandonment is all around, can we seek enough faith to not be alone? Can we will ‘The Holy’ to been known to us this week?

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I know that it is possible for people to attend church on the bookend Sundays of Holy Week and try to stick to the positive: Hosanna and Hallelujah. But, we are encouraged to take the narrower road that leads through the struggle and hardship and tragic-nature of the depth of Jesus’ passion.

If you are able to come to church on Thursday evening and/or Friday morning, you can delve a bit deeper into the dark corners of this narrow path. But even if your next trip to church in Sunday, be mindful of the path between Hosanna and Hallelujah. For the paradox continues: there will be scattering, but the scattered come together, there will be despair, but the despair becomes inspiration - death leads to life.





Let us pray:

Inspire us to journey on the path of faith in the sure knowledge that we are never alone.

Amen.

#560VU “O Master, Let Me Walk With Thee”

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