April 5, 2020: Courage Revealed

Matthew 21:1-11
Rev. Dr. Rhonda Blevins
Palm Sunday

When they had come near Jerusalem and had reached Bethphage, at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples,  saying to them, “Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her; untie them and bring them to me.  If anyone says anything to you, just say this, ‘The Lord needs them.’ And he will send them immediately.”  This took place to fulfill what had been spoken through the prophet, saying, “Tell the daughter of Zion, Look, your king is coming to you,    humble, and mounted on a donkey, and on a colt, the foal of a donkey.” The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them; they brought the donkey and the colt, and put their cloaks on them, and he sat on them.  A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road.  The crowds that went ahead of him and that followed were shouting, “Hosanna to the Son of David!    Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest heaven!” When he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil, asking, “Who is this?”  The crowds were saying, “This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee.”

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 There is a tremendous sense of movement in today’s text.

The three synoptic gospels, Matthew, Mark and Luke, describe Jesus and his disciples departing from Jericho on the same day as the triumphal entry Jerusalem. Jericho, the “City of Palms,” is roughly 16 miles from Jerusalem as the crow flies, but the walking path would have been further as it twisted its way through the arid, craggy land separating the two cities. And it was uphill; Jerusalem sits 3,300 feet higher in elevation than Jericho.

The trail was dangerous for a couple of reasons. First, the terrain was rough; you could slip and fall and land at the bottom of a cliff. Secondly, the road had a reputation for thieves and bandits. That’s why Jesus set the story of the Good Samaritan on this road . . . the man left for dead on the road having been beaten by thieves. So people traveled in crowds.

The crowd was especially large as Jesus made his approach into Jerusalem that day. Not only were his disciples with him—the twelve who had been with him for the past three years. But Jesus had picked up a lot of followers along the way. And it was Passover. Many additional Jewish pilgrims were making their way into Jerusalem for the great feast. 

So together the crowd walked to Jerusalem. Five, maybe six, hours. Uphill. Through a desert. On a pilgrimage. 

Now, here’s where the story gets interesting.

As Jesus and the crowd nears Jerusalem, Jesus tells two of his disciples to go and retrieve a donkey and it’s colt. “Tell the owner the Lord has need of it,” is all they’re told. And when the disciples come back to Jesus and the crowd, they place their outer garments on the donkey, and Jesus hops on. Some throw their cloaks on the ground; others cut palm branches and placed them on the ground. They shouted, “Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”

A few years ago, I discovered an interpretation about this event that completely changed how I understood this story. It’s one of those things—once you see it, you can’t un-see it. 

Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan see this “triumphal entry” as a staged protest. A pre-arranged public protest against Roman imperial rule.

That’s the part we miss as 21st Century Americans. The story is set among an oppressed people living under the ruthless occupation of a foreign power, the Roman Empire. 

Borg and Crossan describe how, on the other side of Jerusalem, Pontius Pilate would be making his way into Jerusalem from Caesarea for the Passover, not to celebrate, but to maintain order, as a large gathering of Jews was a tinder box for uprisings against the Roman authority. So from the west, Pilate would be making a grand entrance. Mounted on a great stallion or perhaps riding in a chariot. Flanked by Roman soldiers, their swords freshly sharpened as they readied themselves to be the keepers of “law and order.” This would be no subtle entry into the city as Pilate would want to make his presence known—reminding the Jews who held the power.

And on the other side of Jerusalem, Jesus rides into town on a donkey. More specifically, a female donkey still nursing its colt. If this is a revolution, it’s a non-violent revolution.

Jesus riding into Jerusalem on an ass is mocking Pilate. This is a lampoon. This is the first-century Jewish version of Saturday Night Live. This is Chevy Chase as Gerald Ford, Dana Carvey as George H.W. Bush, Alec Baldwin as Donald J. Trump. Jesus is making a mockery of Pilate, and of the Roman Empire. The crowds gathered around Jesus are playing along as they shout “Hosanna!” 

The Gospel of Mark tells us Jesus then entered into Jerusalem, went into the temple and looked around, but because it was late, left and went to the village of Bethany to spend the night. 

The second staged protest, you see, would be at the Temple. Turning over the money-changers’ tables wasn’t done in a fit of rage, but as a planned protest against the Temple leadership, how they’d sold themselves out for favor with the Romans, and how they took advantage of their own people. But it didn’t happen on the same day as the “anti-triumphal” entry. Why? It was late, and the crowd at the Temple had thinned by the time Jesus and his followers arrived. You need a crowd to have an effective protest. The protest against the Jewish authorities would have to wait until the next day.

These protests—one against the Romans and the other against Jewish authorities—these protests took chutzpah. This non-violent revolution Jesus was leading wasn’t the stuff of cowards. No, these public, brazen acts of resistance were a far cry from playing it safe.

In these stories, Jesus’ courage is revealed.

Courage. Not the absence of fear, but doing the right thing in the face of fear. That’s what courage is. For Jesus, it was making not one, but two bold rebuttals to an oppressive system. What courage! What chutzpah!

I see a lot of courage in these fearful days as well.

This week our director of music and several choristers tried a new way to lead our ministry of music this week. It’s not what Ron was trained for. I can’t imagine it’s what any of our musicians would have preferred. It took far more time than their usual Wednesday rehearsal and Sunday worship leadership. Some of them stayed up late into the night—past midnight on Wednesday I’m told, so that you we might find our way into the presence of God. They pushed through any inhibitions—any fear—and produced beautiful, touching, music to usher us into worship. What courage! What chutzpah!

This week many of you made phone calls to people you hardly know because you wanted to find a way to care for folks who live alone or for whom quarantine may be especially difficult or isolating. You got over the potential awkwardness of making such calls, you took a risk, and you reached out, or you delivered soup, or you sent a note. Reaching out beyond yourself like that requires vulnerability that many folks are too scared to muster. But you did it. What courage! What chutzpah!

And then there are the healthcare workers. Around the world and in our own church. Several doctors, and even more nurses. Day after day, up close with weak and sickened strangers, because it’s their deep calling, and because they believe it’s the right thing to do. They’re walking into homes and emergency rooms with less-than-adequate protective gear. My goodness! What courage! What chutzpah!

I wonder, in these strange and difficult days, what God might be calling us to risk? Who needs what we might have to offer, if we could simply get over our fear or insecurities? How might we live into this moment, and ride with courage into this Holy Week just as Jesus rode courageously into the Holy City?

Can you hear the people shouting? They’re not just shouting for Jesus, but for you, and for me! Blessed is he . . . blessed is she . . . blessed are they who come in the name of the Lord! 

So let us rise up into this moment, giving courage and calling the victory over fear and insecurity. I know we will continue finding ways to BE the church, and offer ourselves to one another and to the world.

Hosanna! Blessed are YOU who go in the name of the Lord!