Before the reading, I asked you to put yourself in the scene of the triumphal entry of Jesus and consider what core emotion you believe the characters in the story might have felt and I gave the example of joy, sadness, anger, fear, and amazement). So let’s hear what you felt like as a character in the story. [Prior to the reading I assigned them to groups of different characters. Here are their responses: Temple Priests and Leaders – concern and disgust; People in the crowd – amazement and wonder; Disciples – joy and amazement (Judas was mentioned as plotting against Jessus); Greeks – curiosity; Pilot or any of the Roman Cohorts – anxiety, concern for rebellion; which would be felt differently depending on their rank].
I want you to hold onto that emotional perspective as we continue to reflect on this story. It may help you understand what John had in mind when telling this story. Remember that the context of the audience also matters, because John was writing to Jews and Gentiles who were known as “God Fearers” (or maybe we might better understand them as “God Reverers”) after the fall of the Jerusalem Temple. These people were followers of the Way of Jesus, as it was then called, who were trying to distinguish themselves from the Jewish Zealots who had been in conflict with Rome and paid for it through crucifixions and other forms of oppression.
I want you to hold onto that emotional perspective as we continue to reflect on this story. It may help you understand what John had in mind when telling this story. Remember that the context of the audience also matters, because John was writing to Jews and Gentiles who were known as “God Fearers” (or maybe we might better understand them as “God Reverers”) after the fall of the Jerusalem Temple. These people were followers of the Way of Jesus, as it was then called, who were trying to distinguish themselves from the Jewish Zealots who had been in conflict with Rome and paid for it through crucifixions and other forms of oppression.
As you hold onto that part of the story, I’m going to shift the scene a little to where we ended last week. Jesus had been on trial for blasphemy in a kangaroo court of religious leaders that landed him before Pilate, where he was on trial for sedition – a very specific, very political accusation resulting from the collusion of religion and politics. When Pilate offered to release him, the leaders traded Jesus for an actual insurgent named Barabus and incited a crowd to call for Jesus’s crucifixion. In fact, they even called out Pilate for his lack of allegiance to the Roman Empire, saying, “We have no king but Ceasar!”
Before we leave that part of the story, I want to be clear that we have two aspects of faith in the face of an empire at play here. One is the use of each by the other – religion and the state – to advance their own goals. The other is the natural conflict between faith and state-sponsored control of systems of belief, and not just systems of belief but control of the powerless by those with power. When state-sanctioned violence gets the support of religious institutions we see war. We see people groups becoming targeted. We see a division between those who benefit from these systems of control and those who suffer because of them.
Now, that may strike a chord with some of the things we see in the news today, but it was also the world in which Jesus lived. I can’t help but wonder what emotion Jesus must have felt when they called, “Crucify!” but I imagine it was the same one he felt when they called out, “Hosanna!” It was love – a deep, abiding, purpose-giving love. In John’s gospel it is not clear if the crowd that called "Crucify!" is the same crowd that called “Hosanna!” but it is clear that things did not go the way the crowd that waved palms expected. It is also clear that things happened exactly the way that Jesus expected.
Let’s rewind to the point in the story that we’ve been given to share today. Jesus’s popularity has been growing, but up until now, he has said, “It is not time for me to be glorified.” You may recall that in John 6, after feeding the masses, they wanted to make him king. Jesus slipped away, because it was not yet time for him to be glorified. That all changes with the raising of Lazarus in chapter 11, when Jesus begins to say that it is time for him to be glorified, even though no one else seems to really know what that means. Even here, in 12:16 it says that the disciples did not really know what was going on until after Jesus was glorified – which doesn't happen in John's Gospel until after the resurrection.
The crowd does seem to have a sense of the importance of what God is doing through Jesus, and Jesus doesn’t try to stop them because this is what he came to do. It’s not that he needs the attention. It’s that the people need to express their needs. “Hosanna!” they scream, which means, “Save us, please!” The please is important. It’s not just good manners. It is an expression of desperation. They call him King and beg for salvation because the peace of Rome is a knee on the neck of those who would honor God instead of Rome. The peace of Rome and the blessing of the Temple ends in death and destruction (remember that it has been destroyed at the time this story went around), so they call out, “Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord — the King of Israel!’
Those who saw Jesus raise Lazarus were there, and it creates a real contrast between the crucifixions offered by Roam and the life-giving presence of God offered by Jesus. The priests say, “See the whole world has gone after him!” and right on cue some Greeks show up wanting to see Jesus. Then in vv23-26, Jesus gives this cryptic answer about wheat dying to bear more wheat, and he invites them to follow him toward self-sacrifice – hating your life in order to gain it. Finally, in v 27, he admits that what he has to do is hard, but he would not have it any other way because this is the way that God wants to get things done.
Now, what does all of this have to do with you and me? I guess the first question is whether or not we believe that we need to be saved, and if so what from. They wanted a savior-king. They wanted someone who could flip the script on Roman occupation and Roman control over the body and the spirit that the state expressed through crucifixion.
What is it that we have in mind when we wave our palms and shout, “Hosanna!”? In the past, I think that I have seen Palm Sunday as a time of joyful celebration and thanksgiving, but I’m beginning to wonder if it’s a little more complex than that. Those who first waved palms waved them in the way we might wave a handkerchief in a second line. They needed an extension of themselves to show they were so full of emotion that they just could not contain it!
In the other gospels, the crowd even put garments on the ground. Do you know what kind of stuff was on that ground? I just don’t even want to think what laundry day was like after the Passover that year – especially with their confusion over what kind of savior Jesus would be for them.
Of course, we know the good news. We know that Jesus came to offer salvation in a way that challenged the authority of Rome and any other empire – even those that would later use the banner of Christ to justify their own agendas. We know that Jesus came to bring healing for our brokenness and to connect us with God and one another through the movement of the Holy Spirit of God. We know that Jesus was glorified because of the way God was given the glory through him for all that he did and all that we can do through him!
That, of course, begs the question, what can we do through our faith in Jesus? According to Matthew 19:26, all things are possible through God, but I think there is a more specific invitation that we are receiving through today’s passage. Specifically, Jesus tells us in v 25 to “hate our life” or more specifically, “the life you have in this world.”
That doesn’t sound very inviting unless we remember that Jesus is all about reverence before God. In the Reformed tradition, we might say, “Don’t be self-centered, be God-centered.” The invitation of Jesus this Palm Sunday is to be motivated by that which motivates God and to follow Jesus as our example. We know, or we can guess what motivated everyone in that crowd. We know, or we can guess, what motivates us as we look to God (or to those other people, places, and things that we look to) for value and meaning and purpose.
The invitation here is to let go of all of those motivations and be motivated by the same thing that motivated Jesus, and we’ve already said that was love. I don’t mean to say that we should all walk out of here with some kind of savior complex, because we still need to be saved as well. What I do mean to say is that when we wave our palms and shout, “Hosanna!” we can do it with the confidence of people motivated by the same love that motivated Jesus.
Here’s the real kicker though. If Jesus was motivated by a love for others that put him in conflict with systems of control that separate and divide, then it might do the same to us. If Jesus was motivated by a love for others that put the needs of others before his, it might just do the same for us. If the love of Jesus put him in a vulnerable place – even while crowds shouted about his greatness – it might just do the same for us.
There are, of course, limits to what we can do – when we rely on ourselves alone – but the invitation of Jesus is one of limitless love that has no beginning and goes on forever! In fact, I’d say that the invitation of Jesus is not just in the waving of palms but also in the way we honor him in one another. You see, I used to think that we waved palms because we, unlike those in the story, are glorifying God for the right reasons. Lately, I have come to see that I wave palms to celebrate the love of God in the hope that I might honor God in every person who crosses my path.
The challenge I want to leave you with today is to not just wave a palm as one of the people who know the love of Jesus. Instead, I encourage you to wave your palm as though everyone you meet is a reflection of the image of God – honored, holy, and beloved. Wave your palms as a person who longs for salvation. Wave your palms as someone who is moving toward the cross of Jesus, not looking away, and expecting restoration, reconciliation, and hope in the love poured out by the one who makes us one. May it be so with me. May it be so with you, and to God be the glory now and always. Amen!
Before we leave that part of the story, I want to be clear that we have two aspects of faith in the face of an empire at play here. One is the use of each by the other – religion and the state – to advance their own goals. The other is the natural conflict between faith and state-sponsored control of systems of belief, and not just systems of belief but control of the powerless by those with power. When state-sanctioned violence gets the support of religious institutions we see war. We see people groups becoming targeted. We see a division between those who benefit from these systems of control and those who suffer because of them.
Now, that may strike a chord with some of the things we see in the news today, but it was also the world in which Jesus lived. I can’t help but wonder what emotion Jesus must have felt when they called, “Crucify!” but I imagine it was the same one he felt when they called out, “Hosanna!” It was love – a deep, abiding, purpose-giving love. In John’s gospel it is not clear if the crowd that called "Crucify!" is the same crowd that called “Hosanna!” but it is clear that things did not go the way the crowd that waved palms expected. It is also clear that things happened exactly the way that Jesus expected.
Let’s rewind to the point in the story that we’ve been given to share today. Jesus’s popularity has been growing, but up until now, he has said, “It is not time for me to be glorified.” You may recall that in John 6, after feeding the masses, they wanted to make him king. Jesus slipped away, because it was not yet time for him to be glorified. That all changes with the raising of Lazarus in chapter 11, when Jesus begins to say that it is time for him to be glorified, even though no one else seems to really know what that means. Even here, in 12:16 it says that the disciples did not really know what was going on until after Jesus was glorified – which doesn't happen in John's Gospel until after the resurrection.
The crowd does seem to have a sense of the importance of what God is doing through Jesus, and Jesus doesn’t try to stop them because this is what he came to do. It’s not that he needs the attention. It’s that the people need to express their needs. “Hosanna!” they scream, which means, “Save us, please!” The please is important. It’s not just good manners. It is an expression of desperation. They call him King and beg for salvation because the peace of Rome is a knee on the neck of those who would honor God instead of Rome. The peace of Rome and the blessing of the Temple ends in death and destruction (remember that it has been destroyed at the time this story went around), so they call out, “Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord — the King of Israel!’
Those who saw Jesus raise Lazarus were there, and it creates a real contrast between the crucifixions offered by Roam and the life-giving presence of God offered by Jesus. The priests say, “See the whole world has gone after him!” and right on cue some Greeks show up wanting to see Jesus. Then in vv23-26, Jesus gives this cryptic answer about wheat dying to bear more wheat, and he invites them to follow him toward self-sacrifice – hating your life in order to gain it. Finally, in v 27, he admits that what he has to do is hard, but he would not have it any other way because this is the way that God wants to get things done.
Now, what does all of this have to do with you and me? I guess the first question is whether or not we believe that we need to be saved, and if so what from. They wanted a savior-king. They wanted someone who could flip the script on Roman occupation and Roman control over the body and the spirit that the state expressed through crucifixion.
What is it that we have in mind when we wave our palms and shout, “Hosanna!”? In the past, I think that I have seen Palm Sunday as a time of joyful celebration and thanksgiving, but I’m beginning to wonder if it’s a little more complex than that. Those who first waved palms waved them in the way we might wave a handkerchief in a second line. They needed an extension of themselves to show they were so full of emotion that they just could not contain it!
In the other gospels, the crowd even put garments on the ground. Do you know what kind of stuff was on that ground? I just don’t even want to think what laundry day was like after the Passover that year – especially with their confusion over what kind of savior Jesus would be for them.
Of course, we know the good news. We know that Jesus came to offer salvation in a way that challenged the authority of Rome and any other empire – even those that would later use the banner of Christ to justify their own agendas. We know that Jesus came to bring healing for our brokenness and to connect us with God and one another through the movement of the Holy Spirit of God. We know that Jesus was glorified because of the way God was given the glory through him for all that he did and all that we can do through him!
That, of course, begs the question, what can we do through our faith in Jesus? According to Matthew 19:26, all things are possible through God, but I think there is a more specific invitation that we are receiving through today’s passage. Specifically, Jesus tells us in v 25 to “hate our life” or more specifically, “the life you have in this world.”
That doesn’t sound very inviting unless we remember that Jesus is all about reverence before God. In the Reformed tradition, we might say, “Don’t be self-centered, be God-centered.” The invitation of Jesus this Palm Sunday is to be motivated by that which motivates God and to follow Jesus as our example. We know, or we can guess what motivated everyone in that crowd. We know, or we can guess, what motivates us as we look to God (or to those other people, places, and things that we look to) for value and meaning and purpose.
The invitation here is to let go of all of those motivations and be motivated by the same thing that motivated Jesus, and we’ve already said that was love. I don’t mean to say that we should all walk out of here with some kind of savior complex, because we still need to be saved as well. What I do mean to say is that when we wave our palms and shout, “Hosanna!” we can do it with the confidence of people motivated by the same love that motivated Jesus.
Here’s the real kicker though. If Jesus was motivated by a love for others that put him in conflict with systems of control that separate and divide, then it might do the same to us. If Jesus was motivated by a love for others that put the needs of others before his, it might just do the same for us. If the love of Jesus put him in a vulnerable place – even while crowds shouted about his greatness – it might just do the same for us.
There are, of course, limits to what we can do – when we rely on ourselves alone – but the invitation of Jesus is one of limitless love that has no beginning and goes on forever! In fact, I’d say that the invitation of Jesus is not just in the waving of palms but also in the way we honor him in one another. You see, I used to think that we waved palms because we, unlike those in the story, are glorifying God for the right reasons. Lately, I have come to see that I wave palms to celebrate the love of God in the hope that I might honor God in every person who crosses my path.
The challenge I want to leave you with today is to not just wave a palm as one of the people who know the love of Jesus. Instead, I encourage you to wave your palm as though everyone you meet is a reflection of the image of God – honored, holy, and beloved. Wave your palms as a person who longs for salvation. Wave your palms as someone who is moving toward the cross of Jesus, not looking away, and expecting restoration, reconciliation, and hope in the love poured out by the one who makes us one. May it be so with me. May it be so with you, and to God be the glory now and always. Amen!
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