Blessed is the One Who Comes in the Name of the Lord
a sermon based Matthew 21:1-11
by Rev. Richard Gehring

            For the past 5 weeks, we've been in the Season of Lent. We've been with Jesus as he's had a wide variety of encounters: with Satan in the wilderness, with Nicodemus in the night, with the Samaritan woman at the well, with the man who was born blind and with Lazarus in the tomb.  Today we find ourselves in the final stage of our Lenten journey.  Jesus has arrived at his final destination of Jerusalem.  Now is a time of celebration and joy on this day that we have come to know as Palm Sunday.  

            The Palm Sunday story begins as Jesus approaches the villages of Bethany and Bethpage, a few miles from Jerusalem. The Mt. of Olives stands between these villages and the city.  Before going over the hill where they could actually see Jerusalem, Jesus sent 2 disciples into a nearby village to borrow a donkey, or actually a pair of donkeys according to Matthew.

            At this point Matthew adds an editorial comment to explain Jesus' action.  He cites a prophecy from Zechariah which refers to a great king who will arrive in Jerusalem riding on a donkey.  "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."(Zech. 9:9)  The prophet looked forward to a day when a new Israel would be established, an Israel ruled by a King of Peace. 

            In that time, Zechariah declares, the King will get rid of all the chariots in Israel and all the war horses in Jerusalem and shall rule in peace.  In that day, Jerusalem will no longer need a wall because God will surround the city and protect it with his presence.  Jesus has carefully chosen to identify himself with that prophecy by riding a donkey's colt just as Zechariah had foreseen.

            Jesus is declaring his kingship.  He is revealing his true identity as the promised Messiah.  But he is also declaring that he is not the military hero that many people were expecting.  He declares that the true Messiah is the King of Peace that Zechariah foretold, the one who comes in weakness and humility, not in power and might.  He shows that his means are nonviolent.  Yes, he intends to change the political order, but he will do it by disarming, not by arming for battle.

            This statement that Jesus makes becomes even more striking when we realize that at perhaps the very same time that Jesus is mounting his nonviolent demonstration as he enters the city of Jerusalem from the east, there is a Roman military garrison arriving from the west.  Passover, which was about to begin, always brought huge crowds to Jerusalem.  So to maintain order,the Romans sent reinforcements to the city during the festival. They may very well have been arriving in full military regalia and with great fanfare on the other edge of town just as Jesus makes his way down the Mount of Olives, across the Kidron Valley and into the walls of Jerusalem.

            Indeed, the entire account of Jesus' entry into Jerusalem is reminiscent of the entry of another Son of David some 1000 years earlier.  Solomon, too, entered Jerusalem from the Kidron Valley on the east side of the city after his coronation there.  We are told that he rode a mule as well.  He, too, was welcomed by shouts of acclamation as David's rightful heir to the throne.  And his entry, too, stood as a challenge to the one who had claimed power--his brother, Adonijah, who had already had himself crowned as king in defiance of David's wishes.(1 Kings 1)

            The crowds who followed Jesus seem to have understood his actions--at least in part.  They lined the way as he rode down the Mt. of Olives, across the Kidron Valley and into Jerusalem. As he approached, they carpeted his path with their coats and branches, and they shouted their praises to him.  Their cry of "Hosanna" that is so closely associated with Palm Sunday originally meant "save us!"  It was a desperate plea for help.  But as Jesus rides triumphantly into Jerusalem, it seems to be not so much a plea as a declaration:  Not "Please save us!" but "You will save us!  At last you have arrived and we shall be saved!"

            The symbolism of riding on the donkey was not lost on the crowds.  They shout not just "Hosanna!" but "Hosanna to the Son of David!"   It was, of course, David who had established his throne in Jerusalem.  It was his descendants who continued to sit on that throne for nearly 400 years after his death.  And it was expected that someday one of his descendants would reclaim the throne and reestablish the nation of Israel.  That is what the crowds expected Jesus to be--the long-awaited Messiah.

            The triumphal entry, then, is more than simply a spontaneous outpouring of affection for Jesus as a teacher and miracle worker.  It is, in fact, a planned political demonstration that recognizesJesus publicly for the first time as the Messiah, the Christ.  The people have been waiting for many generations for the coming of the Messiah, and finally he has arrived.  They are overjoyed at the prospect of once again having a ruler from the line of David on the throne.  They probably expected him to soon oust the Roman occupiers and to create an independent State of Israel.  But, of course, that's not what Jesus does.  Jesus is a different kind of king.

            It was indeed a grand celebration.  The disciples must have been overjoyed at what they saw that day.  At last, their teacher was getting the recognition that he deserved.  At last the great secret of Jesus' identity was out.  The crowds were openly proclaiming him as a prophet and as a king--as the Messiah that he truly was.  It must have seemed that Jesus could now do anything he wanted.  He had the people behind him.  They were willing to do what he commanded.  Any day now, the disciples probably expected to see Jesus sitting on the throne of David, ruling over Israel.

            But Jesus must have had some very different feelings as he rode into Jerusalem that day.  He knew that he would not make it out of the city alive.  He'd been trying to tell the disciples all along that they were going to Jerusalem where he would die, but they just seemed to think that he was being overly pessimistic.  They didn't yet understand what he was all about, how different his kingdom was from any other that had ever existed.

            Jesus also had great insight into people.  He knew that public opinion is a very fickle thing.  He must have known that even though the crowds were with him today, there was no guarantee that they still would be tomorrow.  Once the people realized that he wasn't the sort of king they expected, the "hosannas" would die out and be replaced by much harsher cries. We have the benefit of hindsight to know that this is exactly what happened.  And yet it still is something of a puzzle:  How did the "Hosannas" of Palm Sunday turn so quickly into the "Crucify Him" of Good Friday?

            We have, I think, a clue to the answer to that question at the end of today's passage.  In verse 10, the people of Jerusalem ask, "Who is this?"  They don't seem to know about Jesus.  For he is still a stranger in Jerusalem.  The Gospel of John tells of several brief trips Jesus had made to the city, but the bulk of his ministry was in the distant region of Galilee and in the parts of Judea outside of Jerusalem itself.  So when he arrives in the city, the inhabitants ask, "Who is this?"

            That question is answered in verse 11 not by Jesus, not by his disciples, but by the crowds.  Because of his ministry, people from all over Galilee and Judea recognized Jesus by now.  They, like he, had now come to Jerusalem to celebrate Passover, and were thrilled to find Jesus coming into the city as well.  So it is these crowds, these outsiders who are only in Jerusalem for the Passover festival, that answer the question:  "Who is this?"  "This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth of Galilee."

            There are, in other words, two different groups identified. There are the crowds that know Jesus from his ministry among them.  They are the ones who cry "Hosanna!" and proclaim Jesus as the Messiah.  Then there are the people of Jerusalem who do not yet know much about this Jesus.  They are the ones who ask "Who is this?" as Jesus rides his borrowed donkey into the city.  Perhaps, then, it is also this second group who cries out "Crucify Him!" a few days later.

            There is more difference between the crowds and the city than just how familiar they may be with Jesus.  The crowds among whom Jesus has ministered are the common folk, the ordinary people of first century Palestine.  They are farmers, sheepherders, fishers, merchants--the sort of people that can still be found in any small town in the American heartland today.  It is among these folks that Jesus has become so popular.  But now he's coming into Jerusalem, the center of power, and it's a whole new ball game.

            Jerusalem was not the political capital of the region at the time.  The Romans had built another city that served as their capital.  They did maintain a palace and had established a fort in Jerusalem, but these were primarily to keep an eye on the real center of Palestine at the time--the temple. 

            The temple in Jerusalem was the hub of Jewish religion and Jewish culture.  Those who controlled the temple, the priests,the Levites, the Sadducees and so on, had to maintain a delicate balance between running the temple in accord with the Law of Moses and yet not offending their Roman conquerors.  There had been a sort of uneasy truce worked out between Jerusalem and Rome, a truce that allowed the Jews to practice their religion just so long as it didn't interfere with any Roman policies. 

            So the people of Jerusalem lived with this tension between the religious authorities and the political rulers.  They were well aware every time they went to the temple to offer their prayers and sacrifices that they were being watched by soldiers in the Antonia Fortress built by the Romans right next to the temple.  They knew that any change threatened to disrupt the truce.  They knew that at a moment's notice, the Roman army could march in and take over the temple.  Their power and prestige, indeed their whole way of life, could be completely disrupted by anyone who provoked the Romans.

            The tension in Jerusalem was especially high during the Passover feast when large crowds came into the city to celebrate. The Romans marched in many reserves for crowd control and all the soldiers were put on alert.  So it is with some understandable suspicion that the people of Jerusalem and the temple authorities ask, "Who is this?" as Jesus rides into the city with throngs shouting "Hosanna to the Son of David!"  And it is just as understandable that these same people of Jerusalem a few days later would be shouting, "Crucify Him!  Crucify Him!"

            As we gather here on this Palm Sunday 2008, with whom do we identify?  Do we feel a kinship with the common folk who are shouting "Hosanna!"celebrating because the one who has worked among them ministering to their needs is now challenging the political structure?  Or do we feel more sympathy with the people of Jerusalem--the powerful elite who suspiciously ask, "Who is this?  Who is this that threatens to disrupt the relative peace we have worked so hard to achieve and destroy the compromises we have made with Caesar?"       The events of the next week show us how short a trip it is from asking "Who is this?" today to crying "Crucify Him!" by Friday.  If our possessions, our comforts, our influence are more important to us than the truth, then we are very much like the people of Jerusalem who greeted Jesus' arrival with suspicion.  His symbolic declaration of a kingdom so different from any earthly kingdom represented a threat to their way of life.  And it still does to many North Americans today.  But if we do not greet Jesus and the arrival of his kingdom with joy, then we associate ourselves with those who had him put to death.  Indeed, we crucify Christ all over again by denying what stands at the heart of his ministry.

            On the other hand, it is also not enough to merely shout "Hosanna!" today when things seem to be going well.  It is easy to celebrate when everyone else is celebrating with us.  The difficulty is to continue the spirit of that celebration when the going gets rough.  The crowds were happy to shout their praises when it looked like Jesus was a conquering hero.  But their voices fell silent when he revealed himself to be a suffering servant who calls his followers to suffer along with him.

            Jesus' kingdom, you see, is not about power and prestige.  It is not about achievement and acclamations.  No, the kingdom that Christ came to establish is one that is founded on peace, not on military might.  It is based on faithfulness to God's call, not on effectiveness at getting things done.  It is established through suffering, not through success.

            So let us join the crowds today in declaring "Hosanna to the Son of David!"  But let us not lose our voice tomorrow when things look more bleak.  Let us live as faithful citizens of the kingdom and loyal subjects of Christ our Lord.  Blessed indeed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!