From Celebration to Crucifixion
The Paradox of Palm Sunday. Why do we love people only to turn away when they disappoint us?
Simona Frenkel & The Choir
No other Sunday in the church year is like this one. It’s a schizophrenic Sunday. One minute we’re shouting “Hosanna” and the next we’re crying, “Crucify him!” How do you move from the one extreme to the other in such a short time?
Here’s the scene. You’re in Jerusalem to celebrate the grandest, biggest holiday of the year – Passover. Passover, the time when God took a slave people out of bondage to a super power and utterly destroyed the world’s largest standing army at a place called the Red Sea. You know the story. You’ve heard it your whole life. Your parents have heard it their whole life. In fact you don’t know of anyone in your entire family lineage that hasn’t heard the story.
So when you come to remember this mighty military victory and you’ve heard of this miracle worker who is coming to town who raises people from the dead, restores sight to the blind, and literally walks on water. You can’t help but believe that God is about to do to Rome as he once did to Egypt.
So here you are along the parade route for the conquering hero that you’ve heard so much about. The vendors are passing out palm branches for you to wave as a sign of homage to the conquering king. Some of the folk are even laying down their coats, but you’ve just had your tunic dry cleaned so you decide to wave the palm instead, but it doesn’t matter, because the atmosphere is charged with anticipation and celebration. After all he just might be as big if not bigger than King David who you know slew the giant of all giants – Goliath.
So we might excuse the crowd for failing to notice one significant detail. This Messiah is coming into the city on a donkey not a stallion. At first you pretend not to notice and say things to yourself like, “I guess all the horses have been taken. After all it’s the biggest celebration in your country and you’re in the capital city. I guess the Messiah’s advance men forgot to book the horse far enough in advance.
The only problem is that the Messiah didn’t ask for a horse, he asked for a donkey but then you didn’t know that did you? How could you have known that? The only problem is that whenever a conquering king arrived in a city he always rode on a stallion. It was a sign of power and military might. But this conquering hero, who you’ve heard so much about, is riding on a donkey. And you know that whenever a conquering hero has come into a city riding on a donkey it means only one thing. It means he comes in peace.
This conquering king is coming in peace. But he’s also sending a signal to you and to Rome. He’s saying that his kingdom is not of this world and he’s not going to do unto Rome as Rome has being doing unto you. And this is where it all turns doesn’t it? The moment you realize that this Messiah isn’t going to do what you expect him to do you get mad. How dare he mislead us? How dare he let us down. He shouldn’t have come at the Passover.
And you’re right. Your whole life you’ve been taught that the Messiah would come as a mighty king, like David, or a great leader like Moses, so where does this guy get off dissing 2000 years of expectation? Who does he think he is?
And that’s the rub isn’t it? He doesn’t fit our expectations. We want life to be fair and we want a little pay back for the way Rome has been treating us. They have us living near the poverty level because of the taxes they extort out of us. They’ve crucified or terrorized someone you know. They’ve desecrated the temple, the holiest shrine you have, more than once.
When all of the profound words have been said over holy week what’s it all about? Am I to identify with the crowd on Palm Sunday who one moment are cheering the arrival of Jesus but just five days later crying – “kill him.”
In his book Provocations– Soren Kierkegaard wrote this about being a disciple of Jesus.
It is well know that Christ consistently used the expression ‘disciple.’ He never asked for admirers or worshippers. No, he calls disciples… Christ claimed to be the way, the truth and the life. (John 14:6) His whole life on earth was destined solely to make disciples and to make admirers impossible.
Christ came into the world with the purpose of saving the world, not on instructing it. At the same time – as implied in his earthly ministry. His work was a saving work and he came to set a pattern, to leave footprints for the people who would join him, who would become his disciples.
What then, is the difference between an admirer and a disciple? A disciple is or strives to be what he or she admires. And admirer, however, keeps themselves personally detached. An admirer fails to see that what is admired involves a claim upon themselves and thus fails to be or strive to be what they admire.
Richard Rohr the Roman Catholic theologian puts it like this in our time and place:
“Christianity is a lifestyle – a way of being in the world that is simple, non-violent, shared and loving. However, we made it into an established religion and all that goes with that and avoided the lifestyle change itself. One can be warlike, greedy, racist, selfish and vain in most of Christian history and still believe that Jesus is one’s personal Lord and Savior… (Like a cosmic concierge. The world has not time for such silliness anymore. The suffering on earth is too great.”
We all struggle with this. I know that there are times when I’m no different than the crowd that gathered to cheer and a week later called for his crucifixion, because there are times when I condemn people who let me down.
I know that there are times when I run away from things that scare me, just like the disciples, because it’s more important to save my hide or be liked than to honestly take a stand for what I believe to be true. Kind of like Augustine saying, “Lord, please make me a Christian, just not yet.”
The older I get the less I know and the more I wonder. I’m less interested in intellectual theory and more interested in the new life and transformation that has been promised to you and me? Amen