by Unvirtuous Abbey
Gospel Reading: Luke 19:28-40
For Sunday, March 24, 2013—Palm Sunday
Palm Sunday is a liturgical dream: children and animals are parading up the aisle; the music is uplifting; and there are props—the congregation worshipfully waving their palm fronds.
At least, that’s the goal. Usually, the kids scurry unceremoniously up the aisle, and just ask any clergy person who has used a donkey in church if they would recommend it.
Parades and Protest
The same is true for this reading from Luke: it “sounds” nice, but really, it isn’t. In fact, (though he writes of Mark) Ched Myers calls this “triumphal entry” by Jesus from the margins into the heart of the empire a “misnomer.”
It’s well choreographed political street theatre. It is satire. It is parody. It is fleeting joy that will not be realized. “Jesus comes to Jerusalem not as a pilgrim, in order to demonstrate his allegiance to its temple, but as a popular king ready to mount a non-violent siege on the ruling classes.” (Binding the Strong Man, Ched Myers)
Pastor or Life Coach
Last August, Unvirtuous Abbey prayed: “Lord, you who rode a donkey, we pray for pastors who drive Jaguars. Amen.”
It seems that preachers want a lot of things for their flocks: to be happy, to have wholeness, to know joy, to be at peace, and to, well, prosper. But it’s becoming harder and harder to tell the difference between a pastor and a life coach. The most successful preachers seem to have one hand on the Bible and the other on theological platitudes that seem to placate the masses.
It’s a practice that has reaped rewards for mega pastors and not-so-mega pastors alike. The Christian publishing industry is filled with self-help books, blogs, and articles that enable people to be their best self (and praising God at the same time.) Yet, there is something about endorsing unrelenting positive thinking that denies the lived experience of those who are oppressed.
Is this ‘power of positive thinking’ authentic to the Christian experience? No. And Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem confirms that. Cornelius Plantinga, Jr. wrote, “When our own kingdom has had a good year, we aren’t necessarily looking for God’s kingdom.”
And, remember: God doesn’t give you more theological platitudes than you can handle, right?
“He was Angry.”
I studied under a Bonheoffer scholar in seminary. While he never met Bonheoffer himself, he did have opportunity to speak with his friends. When he asked what Bonheoffer was feeling during the persecution and paranoia of World War Two, his friends replied, “He was angry.”
If there is an emotion that churches will try to avoid at nearly any cost, with all due respect to the conflict resolution team, it is anger. Christians don’t know what to do with anger. It may just be that anger is the underlying emotion in today’s Gospel reading: as Jesus rides along, catching glimpses of the authorities out of the corner of his eye, who are watching in anticipation of his next move, and who are in shock at this spectacle.
Despite switching gears into celebration, the people who lined Jesus’ procession that day must have been angry too. Political upheaval, punishing taxes, brutal military, executions, economic hardship, the price of food, rampant poverty, geological division were all part of a system of empire that made it impossible for people’s basic needs to be met, let alone those who were marginalized, in Jerusalem. Jesus grew up in Nazareth, at least a four-day journey from Jerusalem by foot. Yet, although he knew that (by this time) the authorities were agitated by his ministry, he went there.
Playing to the Crowd?
I can’t help but wonder as he rode the donkey that day – political protest at its finest – what he was feeling? Was he mad about the injustice around him? As the crowds cheered, and people threw down their cloaks, I find it hard to imagine Jesus playing to the crowd and waving. I hope that he was able to join in some of their praise of God. But, he was being watched closely, and he knew it. There was a file on him. There was no turning back. It was time. This was the power of God at work.
"I tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout out." As Jesus is lifted onto a colt, soon he will be lifted onto a cross.
The Hardest Question
But without the benefit of voice inflection, of facial expression and other nonverbal cues, we are left to wonder: What really was Jesus' dominant emotion during the triumphal entry?