Disciple: Jesus Didn't Just Happen to Be in Jerusalem
A Meditation on Holy Week
By Bishop Michael Curry
On that first Palm Sunday, Jesus didn’t just happen to be in Jerusalem. It wasn't the result of random forces accidentally colliding. It wasn't an unfortunate coincidence. His entrance into Jerusalem has all of the marks of planning, coordination, intentionality and skillful execution. Palm Sunday was planned.
The Gospels of Matthew, Mark and Luke all say that before he entered the holy city, Jesus told several of his disciples to go into the city, seek a particular location, untie a donkey and bring it to him. He then says, “If anyone asks you, ‘Why are you untying it?’ just say this, ‘The Lord needs it.’” (Luke 19:31) The language must have been a signal, for when they go into the city and do what he said, when they are stopped and asked, "Why are you untying it?," they give the answer “The Lord has need of it” as instructed, and they are given the donkey. That was not accident, coincidence or happenstance. It was a plan.
The timing wasn't an accident either. Jesus didn't just happen to be in Jerusalem any time of the year. He was there at the time of the honoring of the Passover. The Passover was a celebration of freedom. It recalled the time, long before, when the Hebrew slaves were set free from the bitter bondage and servitude in Egypt.
The Passover was and remains a festival of freedom, liberation and deliverance from all that oppresses any of God's human children. And that's the time when Jesus entered Jerusalem, riding a donkey. And this is the Jesus who once defined his purpose with these words:
The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because he has anointed me
to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives
and recovery of sight to the blind,
to let the oppressed go free,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor. (Luke 4:18-19)
In their book, The Last Week: What the Gospels Really Teach About Jesus's Final Days in Jerusalem, New Testament scholars Marcus J. Borg and John Dominic Crossan opened my eyes to another dimension of Jesus’ plan. In their study of Holy Week, they offer rather stunning historical background.
The Romans, who were the occupying power of Palestine in the time of Jesus, knew the Passover was the Jewish festival of freedom. And they knew the people of Palestine, living under the yoke of Rome, would be in a rebellious fever at that time of celebration. They knew the freedom fighters could use the Passover to strike a blow for their cause. And so the governor of Rome always beefed up the Roman military presence in the city of Jerusalem.
On that day we now call Palm Sunday, Pontius Pilate, the then-Roman governor of Judea, Idumea and Samaria, staged a deliberate show of the Roman Empire’s military power. He left his palace at Fortress Antonia by the Mediterranean Sea and arrogantly entered the city of Jerusalem through the western gate, riding a war horse and leading a Roman company of cavalry and infantry with the standards and insignia of the empire on vivid display. The parade sent a message and a warning: Passover may be about God’s freedom, but in this empire, Caesar is Lord, so don’t even think about it.
Borg and Crossan then note that Jesus staged his entry into the city of Jerusalem from the other side of the city, from the east, traveling down the Mount of Olives.
His entry point was deliberate. Jesus didn’t just happen to be on the east side. He knew exactly what he was doing. Pilate entered on a war horse, the world’s way. Jesus entered on a donkey, God’s way. By countering Pilate’s actions, Jesus skillfully sent a signal and message: There is another way.
That is why the writers of the Gospels view Jesus' entrance into the city of Jerusalem as the living out of the teaching of the prophet Zechariah.
Rejoice greatly, O daughter of 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.
He will cut off the chariot from Ephraim
and the war horse from Jerusalem;
and the battle bow shall be cut off,
and he shall command peace to the nations;
his dominion shall be from sea to sea,
and from the River to the ends of the earth.
(Zechariah 9:9)
No, Jesus didn't just happen to be in Jerusalem. He knew what he was doing. And he didn't just happen to run into conflict with the powers of politics embodied in Pontius Pilate or the religion and ideology embodied in the priestly leaders and religious establishment.
The procession that began on a Palm Sunday reached its climax on that Friday we call Good, with Jesus carrying the instrument that would be used to execute him for crimes against the state and blasphemy against religion. That wasn't an accident either. Jesus may or may not have known exactly how everything would play out, but he knew what he was facing and why.
He willingly confronted the way of violence with the nonviolent way of the cross. He intentionally faced the way of hatred and bigotry and callous indifference, the way of sin, evil and death, with the way of the cross, the way of sacrificial love that seeks the good and well being of others above individual, unenlightened self-interest.
It was an incredible act of courage, especially since Jesus really didn’t know what the outcome would be. He had hunches and hints, but no certainty, no assurance. The procession to the cross than began on Palm Sunday was a radical, risky, daring, profound act of trust.
"It was now about noon, and darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon, while the sun’s light failed; and the curtain of the temple was torn in two. Then Jesus, crying with a loud voice, said, ‘Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.’ Having said this, he breathed his last." (Luke 23:44-46)
When he died, the cause was lost. Hope had been eclipsed on the altar of political and religious reality.
But the procession that began on Palm Sunday did not end with the procession to death on Good Friday. It continued Sunday morning when Mary Magdalene and several of the other women disciples walked to the graveside in a funeral procession to perform the last rites of love. It was there they discovered the triumphant march of Palm Sunday had not ended on Friday. The way of Pilate had not been the last word. The way of God is the final word. The way of love was triumphant. For in the end, love wins! And we can bet our lives on that!
Jesus really lives, so keep the faith.
+Michael
The Rt. Rev. Michael B. Curry was elected the 11th Bishop of the Episcopal Diocese of North Carolina in 2000.
Tags: North Carolina Disciple