Sunday, April 17, 2011

Who Is This?

Matthew 21:1-11

Palm Sunday 2011


Smack in the middle of all the familiar pageantry … yes, right there sailing through the air and the action of a great arrival … is a question … a really big, supremely important, life-centering question. It’s a question that needed to be asked on the first Palm Sunday and it is one that we need to ask today. The question -- Who is this? Who is this thirty-something year old man on approach, aiming to enter the heart of the holy city of Jerusalem? Who is this … this Jesus of Nazareth? Identity is more than what a person looks like and it is more than a name. So who did the people on the first Palm Sunday expect him to be? Who do we, all these many years later, expect Jesus to be?

The question comes only after the Gospel writer Matthew tells us that the holy city was in complete chaos. Have you ever visited the old city part of Jerusalem? Or seen pictures of it? Just imagine those narrow stone streets jammed with about five million people. That’s how many I’ve been told had packed into this Roman province with its Jewish client-king, Herod, in order to celebrate the Passover.[i] The Passover pilgrimage was a most sacred event, for it commemorated the exodus out of slavery in Egypt with mighty Moses in the lead. It marked a new beginning for God’s people, the fulfillment of divine promises. So the city was jammed up with chanting pilgrims, covetous vendors, obedient donkeys, inevitable dust, and tense Roman guards. A new exodus was underway.

How very significant it is that a question about Jesus’ identity is formed at a time with a lot of crazy going on. The chaotic nature of it all complimented how very hungry in heart, mind and spirit the people were – hungry to be reminded of and filled with God’s good promises and power. Our answer to the question of “who is this” must keep this in mind, for our attempts to understand and explain Jesus’ identity must be held in the light of all the crazy going on in the world today as well. How are you and your neighbors in our country and across the world hungry in heart, mind and spirit for God’s reassuring blessings and saving grace?

Back on that ancient day of holy arrival, the Mardi Gras like mob heartily sang “Hosanna!” But not as one, unified chorus. The shouts of Hosanna, a word meaning “help us, save us, we pray,” came from people with different expectations of Jesus’ identity. All of these, however, did flow together by the end of that first holy week. Those divergent views about the man Jesus on approach synched into one dire decree soon after he arrived. They synched to the sinister sound of “crucify him!” More about this shift from high expectations to angry realizations this Thursday night right here at 7 p.m.

Our devotional task this morning is to briefly consider those different streams of thought crying to be saved in the midst of the crazy. We do so because we may find ourselves swimming in any one of them. Or maybe even all of them.

One stream wanted to see more from the miracle man. These are folks who saw Jesus as, to quote how one colleague has cleverly coined it, “The Houdini of the Holy Land.”[ii] By the time of his once and final arrival in Jerusalem, Jesus had this faithfully fervent fan club in tow. Keep in mind that the last thing Jesus did before embarking for the ride into Jerusalem was to raise Lazarus from the dead. Who wouldn’t have wanted to follow and see what was coming next? I know years ago when magicians like Doug Henning, David Copperfield, and David Blane had television specials I could not wait to see how they were going to try and outdo themselves.

More than a show, though, I truly believe these folks fervently followed Jesus because they desperately needed miracles in their own lives and in the lives of their loved ones. Who is this? It’s the only man on the planet who can completely, divinely heal your disease, or that of your mother’s, your father’s, your child’s, your neighbor’s. Who is this? The beautiful balm for all sorrow and suffering. Who is this? This is personified power greater than every valley in the shadow of death. They expected Jesus to makeover the holy city with miracles. Our deepest most desperate needs stand in solidarity with this segment of that first century society.

A second stream of thought was expectant with a much more anxious and angry vibe. They were expecting Jesus to ride into the holy city as a revolutionary warrior come to cut the puppet strings Rome had authoritatively tied above Jerusalem. They swam in the stream of Jewish nationalistic fervor. Who is this? It’s a divine ruler even greater than King David who has finally arrived to overthrow the wretched Romans! Who is this? The one who’ll stop the Roman Empire from “seducing the people out of their Judaism”[iii] and who’ll end the era of enormous tax burden on the Israelites. Who is this? This is holy justice in the flesh.

We can find solidarity in their aggressively marching hope. I trust you’ve noticed and prayerfully companioned the streams of revolutionary thought that have flowed across the Middle East throughout this season of Lent. Day to day we’ve been flooded with sounds and images and written reports of uprisings. Day to day we’ve experienced anxious cries and bold acts on behalf of liberation from oppression. Day to day our country and its allies war against enemy oppressors. And on the home front, people across America daily stand up against social and economic injustices. On several levels, we can well enough identify with those people lined up to welcome the revolutionary King Jesus on his way to reclaim Jerusalem.

One final cluster from within the great crowd crying Hosanna! Matthew’s Gospel directly gives one answer to the question “Who is this?” In verse eleven of the twenty-first chapter, voices in the crowd name Jesus as a prophet. Throughout the Bible, we read of prophets popping up to let people know God’s view and judgment of specific historic circumstances. Most often, they expressed God’s volatile discontent with the ongoing sin of humankind. They also, however, voiced reminders and acted boldly on behalf of God’s good redeeming grace. To this end, the voices in the crowd directly identified by Matthew were correct.

However, recall that Matthew also wrote his Gospel account some thirty years after Jesus completed that first Holy Week. So there’s a good chance Matthew wanted his readers then, and we, the readers now, to understand the problem of having correctly identified Jesus on the first Palm Sunday. I’ve already mentioned it. The voices that could have, should have understood what Jesus did and did not do upon entering Jerusalem, also synched to the sinister cry of “Crucify him!” by week’s end. As one Bible commentary concludes, Matthew wants us to identify with the fact that they got the call correct, but then failed to transform their words into actions.[iv] They could have listened to and obeyed, understood and abided by this prophet. Instead, they too abandoned him.

So there it is -- a swift overview of several streams of thought for responding to the question of Jesus’ identity. Those hungry for more Houdini of the Holy Land; those demanding the new and improved warrior King David; those who thought they knew how to pay attention to a real prophet. All of these people were faithfully, fervently awaiting the true Messiah of Israel, albeit from different angles of expectation.

The day arrived for Jesus’ triumphal entry. They all saw him astride a donkey instead of a great stallion. They all waved their palms, which were like political pennants in their time. And, according to Matthew’s account, they all experienced one particularly potent thing … and quite a curious thing … in their encounter with Jesus. His humble silence. No announcements came from him indicating, “Behold! Last time I made an elephant disappear and reappear, this time the Statue of Liberty!” No decrees of fiercely claiming any worldly throne and power. No words of prophetic judgment from the man on approach, aiming for the heart of the holy city and its children of God in chaos. Just steady, humble, loving silence strolling atop a beast of burden. So they all had to ride on, ride on with Jesus into his first, final trip through Jerusalem.

Even though we know the ultimate glorious outcome of this trip, for today, we too have to just ride on. We have to ride on with Jesus into this week. We do so asking the question, “Who is this?” Holding this question and examining our expectations, we hope for an answer relevant to our personal lives, to the lives of neighbors near and far, and to the great context of a world in constant sinful chaos in need of saving from itself.

The answer is brewing. It will steep in the tastes of the Last Supper. It will steep in the bitter betrayal of friends. It will steep in the metallic tasting droplets streaming from a crown of thorns. It will steep in the stone cold sides of a burial cave. It is coming, it is on approach, and it is aiming to enter the holy city in every heart. Amen.



[i] Data from a sermon by Edward F. Markquart, www.sermonsfromseattle.com/palm_passion_heysanna

[ii] Ibid.

[iii] Ibid.

[iv] New Interpreters Bible, Gospel of Matthew

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