Palm Sunday (C) + 3.20.16

There were people acting crazy-throwing their clothes on the ground, palms and craziness—as he rode on that silly little mule. And something strange was happening—the people could feel it welling up inside them. It almost felt like the trees and the rocks might scream if the people didn’t burst out in praise. They had known him for a while now, but now they really knew him. They had seen him, but now not just the inner group, but all the followers, all the hangers-on that had been gathering around since he started this wild bit of pageantry which was not really in fact fake but was actually really real—all were now drawn to him. Were eclipsed by his light. The brightening sunlight of the day flashed in their eyes, blinding them for a moment as they caught whacks of luminosity between palm branches, and at the same time, their hearts were struck too. Something in their hearts said YES. It was like the most joyous moment of their lives, on steroids.

And then they bowed down, and then they proclaimed, this is our Messiah, riding on a donkey just as the old stories said. Now this was not some cheap populism like we see nowadays, a power that is all about wealth or false flash, but it was the kind of moment where, looking at him, they saw their goodness reflected; their joy. And they couldn’t help but shout Hosanna! Praise Him! Praise the King! The phrase jerked out of their mouths almost unheeded, and finally these captive people felt free.

Only… this wasn’t allowed. And the Pharisees, good rule-followers that they were, were quick to step in and tidy up this messy crowd. They were not offended, not necessarily. They just needed to keep folks in line.[1] See, the Romans didn’t mess around—and they would not stand for a crowd just spontaneously nominating a king, and a Jew at that. There could be some trouble if they caught wind of these antics. Hush! They said. Get back in line! They said. Enough with this of the clothes and the donkey. Surely this is not the place and time old Zechariah meant, when he foretold the anointed one. It’s too dangerous.
And Jesus said, Even I can’t silence this! The people have found their joy. They cannot stop singing. No matter what the consequences may be. And there are heavy ones, as we will see once more this week. Jesus knew though—his burden is our freedom. His sorrow leads to our greatest joy.
So let us, with the crowd, look to him this week. And yes we will sorrow. We might tremble at the pain of it all. But let us not forget that in him, our deepest joy is reflected, and dispersed into the world, in the pure form of God’s unstoppable love. Amen.

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[1] Rolf Jacobson, Karoline Lewis and Matt Skinner, “Sermon Brainwave Podcast 473: Sunday of the Passion (Palm Sunday),” https://www.workingpreacher.org/brainwave.aspx?podcast_id=733.