Speaker 1: In the aftermath of this Palm Sunday, Jesus looks ahead to Good Friday and he says to his friends, when I'm lifted up, I will draw all people to myself. Today, obviously, we enter holy week. That's why I'm wearing a stole. It's this is the most significant week in the church's annual rehearsing and remembering. And over the next few days, we're gonna return to the final moments in Jesus' life.
We're gonna center ourselves in his intentional, measured move towards sacrifice and we will find ourselves pulled into the cosmic implications of just what it is that resurrection is. And if you've been following our Lenten journey this year, you know how our recent teaching series on the Lord's prayer, it's in a lot of ways it's prepared us for this holiest of weeks. Because when Jesus taught his friends to pray, he was giving them words and images to carry them through the deepest of losses. I think Jesus hoped that the words that he taught them would carry them into a wider, more substantial hope. And if you look carefully, you can see the ways that he was teaching them to trust that all of us are part of an extensive divine family.
Teaching them to imagine that this world is actually ground zero for a better kingdom. Teaching them to receive daily blessing from many open hands and to extend forgiveness and failure and betrayal and to ultimately move beyond our temptation to stay the way we are. See, in these lessons, Jesus wasn't just teaching them how to pray, he was teaching them how to move through every day. And with those invitations given, why don't we take a moment now because we have journeyed through Lent and now we are going to follow Christ into these next few days. And as we do so, I wanna invite you to pause, let's prepare our hearts.
Pray with me now. Loving God, you who comes to us helpless in the incarnation, You who come to us, boundless spirit. You who come to us and ask us to follow into holy week. It's in the mystery of the cosmos and in each of our unique journeys and pathways that bring us here, we can see your creative work in all of it. The ways that you guide and you shape our world, the ways that you spark and you sustain our consciousness.
And as we turn to ancient words, we ask for grace to hear and to see and to know in new ways. And we pray that in the simplicity of language and in these moments we share now that we would find ourselves brought to that which we cannot conjure or manipulate. Where there is anxiety in us, I pray that we would find rest today. Where there may be heartache and heaviness, would we find restoration? And where there is darkness perhaps and despair, let us find our eyes lifted to live and move and know ourselves as those you love.
We pray this in the name of Christ, our hope. Amen. Okay. Again, it is Palm Sunday. We have had a procession of our own today.
Many of you are maybe holding palms, maybe folding them as I speak and as we do each year, we are going to turn to the story of Christ entering into his final week. And to do this, we're gonna talk a little bit about the background behind the story, we're gonna talk about chanting crowds, we're gonna talk about what Jesus does and then we need to talk a little bit about memory as faith. And as we turn to the text and to a familiar story for many of us, I want to do so from a particular or with a particular perspective. And here's the perspective I want to encourage you to use. See, in the sixteenth century, a Spanish priest named Ignatius of Loyola, he recovered and he popularized what would come to be called the contemplative practice of reading the text.
He actually taught a couple of contemplative methods. We're gonna use one in the prayer course later this month but today I want to draw on one of these other methods. One in which Ignatius invited readers to, especially when they come to stories of the gospels, to actively use their imaginations when they step toward the text. To observe the scene like you're a participant in it. To step into the story, to apply your senses as you read.
And as Calgarians, many of us are Calgarians, many of us are Albertans, we have a pretty ready portal for accessing the background in the setting of Palm Sunday especially, I wanna See, tradition says that Jesus came to Jerusalem into the last week of his life as he was heading to the cross as the great Passover feast was happening. Passover was huge, it drew people from all over the world, the Jewish people would come from wherever they were living. And it would increase the occupancy of the city of Jerusalem anywhere from 10 to 50% depending on the scholar that you're reading, which just means that every room was filled, every restaurant was packed, every public square and gathering place was jammed with people just like Stampede every July here. Right? Every woo hoo.
Okay. Every year, Calgary welcomes thousands of visitors to the city. And last year, Stampede actually set attendance records with the park grounds, just the park grounds, hosting the equivalent of Calgary's entire population in just ten days. And some of you live for these ten days of pandemonium. Right?
Some of us try to keep our distance from them. But the point is that we all know what it feels like here during stampede. We know the feel of long lines and packed trains and traffic snafus. That energy you can feel everywhere you go. Some of you, as I'm saying this, you can actually smell the midway as I'm talking.
Right? If I think about it, I can actually hear the sound of distant fireworks popping like they do every night. From my house, six kilometers away. I sit out there and I listen to them. Or maybe, as I'm sort of sparking your imagination, maybe you can remember the sound of your favorite Coca Cola stage show in this moment.
And here's the point. It's important to bring that same sensibility, that same kind of memory making, those same kind of experiences, your sensory notes, bring them to the text today. Imagine the pulsing energy of a vibrant celebratory crowd as we read how the next day, a crowd that had come for the festival heard that Jesus was on his way to Jerusalem and they took palm branches and they went out to meet him shouting, Hosanna, blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord, blessed is the king of Israel. Make sure you hear the boisterous sound here. Make sure you feel and smell the press of bodies.
Feel yourself moved along the street by social and collective force. This is the scene we are in. There are a couple of other notes though. First, it's important to know that during Jesus' life, there was this growing tension between Rome and its subservience in Judea. We actually know that in the first few years of the common era, we know that the emperor Augustus removed the Jewish vassal Herod Archelos.
And when he did this, it consolidated Judea and the sacred city of Jerusalem into the surrounding states and guess what? The Jewish political zealots of the time, they did not like being moved around by the imperial powers and they revolted. So during Jesus' ministry, there's this significant political tension between the Jews and Roman officials. But then secondly, it's important to note that there was this significant tension roiling within the Jewish population at the time. And John's gospel gives us unique perspective on this just before it tells us the story of Palm Sunday.
See, John is the only gospel to tell us the full story of Jesus' friend named Lazarus. How Lazarus probably got ill and he dies and Christ comes to him and raises him back to life. That's found in John chapter 11. And in the wake of this powerful demonstration of divine power, the text says that people started to flock to Jesus. Not as intimate friends or devotees, but maybe just because they enjoyed his stage presence.
Maybe they were captivated by his messages of a new kind of kingdom. And from the miraculous or maybe to the way that Jesus often left his political, the people who were opposing him, he would often leave them dumbfounded. I think people liked watching that happen. And in this way, Jesus inspired a lot of measurable popular response. And John tells us that the Jewish leaders weren't comfortable with this.
They were concerned that Jesus was going to raise Roman suspicions. There was this sect called the Sadducees and they had their reasons for not caring for Jesus. Their major problem is that they didn't believe in the resurrection of the dead and so Lazarus was a significant problem for their theology. But also the Sadducees held a lot of social capital under Roman occupation. So Jesus' disruptive methods and message were really problematic for them.
We also know that Jesus' fellow pharisees, teachers of the law, they disagreed with some of Jesus' claims but they probably were worried that so many people were flocking to his cause, a cause that could become politically radicalized. And in the end, John tells us right at the end of chapter 11 that the priests and the leaders, they grew very concerned as Passover crowds started to form in the city and hype started to grow and they gave orders that anyone who saw Jesus, they said, hey, if you see him, if you know where he's at, come and tell us so that we can arrest him quietly so we don't end up in trouble. And those are orders that the crowd clearly ignores as it streams out to meet Jesus And that's important because it betrays how this whole story happens against a background of intrigue and pressure. And that pressure and intrigue feels a little similar to where we are all at right now. Where rulers are clamoring to maintain control and to secure our support.
Where political interests are dominating and brokering and posturing in the public square and religious actors, lots of ways to have no hope but to be caught up in their wake and behind all of that it's so important to know that people languish and long for change And it's that longing that informs the words that the people chanted as they came to meet Jesus. And I I do mean chant because I think it's important that we imagine something like the songs repeated at a European football game here Or the short repetitive phrase that you'll hear at a protest. Or national anthems enthusiastically sung at four nations face off hockey games. These are not liturgical hymns. They're not sung by pious and observant Jews.
These are cries and shouts from a gathering crowd and they are growing in volume and intensity until they reach a frenetic fervor. I want you to think about it. Have you ever jumped and danced and sung a lyric till you were hoarse with thousands of others while your favorite band performed? Or have you ever, against your better judgment, shouted, go, Canada, go, till you couldn't say anything else? That's the atmosphere you should imagine.
And why do I think this? Well, be because there's some actually some layers to what they were chanting. First, the text says that the people were using some lines from what we know to be Psalm one eighteen. They were crying, Hosanna, blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord. Now, Hosanna is actually the transliteration of the Aramaic that they were using in the crowd.
It literally just means save us. That's what you'll see if you go and read Psalm one eighteen for yourself. And most scholars point out that in this context, Hosanna was maybe a little less than a petition of please come and save us and maybe more of a celebratory declaration. Something like God saves or God saves us. Scholars also like to point out though that the second line, blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord, that this is actually maybe part of a liturgy that was used during the Passover festival where traditionally the one referred to actually was seen as referring to the individual pilgrims who were on their way to Jerusalem, which has this really interesting element to our interpretation because the crowd may have been singing this psalm as a practice of their collective identity, as a marker of their status as those blessed ones, those being gathered as God's chosen people.
And they appear to have then taken those words and welcomed Jesus and added a third line. Blessed is the king of Israel. This is not taken from the historical liturgy of the Psalms. And we might be tempted to think that the overt nationalist overtones of that final line that they've added, it maybe just emerged because they'd kinda gotten themselves worked up. You could assume that people were just innocently, sort of like hands hands raised, eyes closed, worshiping, and then somebody took the mic and they kinda got into a bit more of a political rally vibe.
But that would be to ignore that the text says that they took palm branches as they went to meet Jesus. Palm branches, which is what the Maccabean revolutionaries of Israel brought with them when they violently reclaimed the temple from Seleucid occupation in January. It's palm branches that the Maccabean freedom fighters carried with them when they liberated the Jerusalem Citadel in January. It's palm branches that the Bar Kokbo revolutionaries would print on their anti Roman currency as a symbol of Jewish independence a hundred years after Jesus. See these palm branches weren't for warding off the stifling near eastern sun.
No, they were symbols of violence taken up along with matching religious slogans. To do what we have been inclined to do so many times. We have this tendency to worship a God who saves us and dispels those we despise. We have a tendency to welcome a God who's disposed towards us and who blesses all of the methods of our discontent. We have this tendency to parade and deify those we claim as heroes of our chosen cause even if they're just a YouTuber or a blogger.
That's that's why it's somehow right that you all brought a palm with you today. Perhaps that palm frond helps your imagination as you sit with it or as you carry it with you today. Perhaps it helps you enter the stories. You feel the frond's sharp edges and carry the significant symbolism. Now, John's gospel shows us this and then says that Jesus respond to the crowd.
It says that Jesus finds a young donkey, sits on it because it is written, do not be afraid, daughter Zion. See, your king is coming, seated on a donkey's colt. And that's the end of the story. In John's gospel, that's it. Which is such a minimalist description, if we're honest.
See, there's been all this lead up. Remember all that background information that John gives us? There's all this drama, there's all this fanfare, and it makes it all the more striking when all Jesus does is dart out of view to find a donkey. And I think I think this shortened account actually can open us up to something. See, all of the other gospels describe how Jesus sends his disciples ahead to find the donkey on which he's going to ride that day.
And the symbolism of Jesus doing this is very obvious. Whereas military and political leaders of the ancient world would parade themselves on horses of war, Jesus was choosing to arrive on the Roman empire's beast of burden. As this inversion of the triumphal march of the military victor, Jesus intends to signal to the crowd that he will bring a different and more peaceful kingdom. The synoptic gospels, they all sort of show us this as a premeditated act by Jesus. He's setting the scene of his own arrival.
But John offers us a very different description because he sort of hints that John or that Jesus starts that day just like you and I did or would. He didn't know what was gonna happen. So when Jesus crests the hill and he sees the crowds and then he sees that they have palms and he hears their chants, He knows he has to do something. He makes a game time decision. This quick time adjustment to be sure that everybody knows and everybody is not consumed or confused by who he actually is and who he's there for.
And the explanation that is left for the gospel writer to make, he does so very quickly. He all he does is he cites a passage from the Hebrew bible in an attempt to deepen the theological meaning of what Jesus might be doing. Yes. Except, this is super interesting, John doesn't just quote from one ancient prophet verbatim. There's that reference to Zion and a king arriving on a colt, that's clearly taken from Zechariah chapter nine if you wanna go and find it.
But scholars note that there's this bit of a mashup happening here because John also seems to be pulling from the poet Zephaniah in chapter three here too. There's this reference to the daughter of Zion and there's this injunction to not be afraid. Those are the signals that he's pulling from that text. And given that, as Ellen Davis points out, prophetic texts like Zechariah and Zephaniah, they tend to blend the political and the literary like a kind of poetry jam. It only seems right that John would use and remix those kinds of text this way.
John is being creative in his usage, and he's making a theological assertion. Because both of these prophetic texts imagine God coming to save Israel, But Zephaniah plays with that image. This is a God not just intent on rescuing Israel, but one who declares that they will gather all nations and quote, purify the lips of the peoples that all of them may call on the name of the Lord. And John is gonna then sharpen this image of a universal divine intention just a few short verses later while he'll show us. In the aftermath of this Palm Sunday, Jesus looks ahead to Good Friday and he says to his friends, when I'm lifted up, I will draw all people to myself.
Which just means that it's so important to not read dismissiveness into John's Jesus when he doesn't say anything as the crowd comes toward him. No. Jesus does not pull away from the people like he does in John six when they tried to make him king back then. Most scholars actually think that Jesus isn't rejecting the kingly and the royal imagery here, but as he rides into that expectant teeming city and into our lives as it were. Jesus intends to transform every imagination.
In his quick pivot, Jesus sees through all political fervor into the fear and sorrow that are fueling every raging crowd. He sidesteps and he disarms the ways that our religion and our worship still so often mirror our tribal and our political and our economic leanings. And as he sits astride a donkey, Jesus tries to pull on the memory of ancient poets who'd want song of a God grand enough to be God of every tribe and every tongue. Poets who'd foretold that one day God might be small enough to come humbly as king to every desperate heart. Now, perhaps, we shouldn't we shouldn't be surprised that this is difficult to miss.
What's going on in Palm Sunday can be so easy to have it just drive by us. We shouldn't sort of be surprised by that because John's gospel actually tells us that Christ's friends who were right there seeing all the events, smelling all the smells, hearing all of the voices, that they didn't understand this. John chapter 12 verse 16 says that only after Jesus was glorified did they realize that these things had been written about him, That these things had been done to him? Which I think actually makes sense in a way. We know that Jesus' friends and followers took years and decades to make meaning and theology out of all that he did.
And I think they did so pretty organically. They probably got together and they would talk about the things that Jesus had said and what his voice sounded like when he would get excited. Or maybe they talk about the way that he would get this look in his eye when he was gonna do something surprising. And maybe it was in one of these kinds of discussions that one of them said, hey, do you guys remember? Do you remember how when we were walking into Jerusalem, how Jesus just disappeared and then came out with somebody's donkey?
And maybe somebody's eyes got big and they said, hey, wait a second. I was just reading Zechariah last week. And to assume that kind of organic construction is to hold that their memories and their imaginations in an ancient world and culture so far from ours, that they were animated by the spirit of God in shaping an earthy and yet still sacred text. It was a story that's been passed and it's a text that comes to stretch us by the same spirit here. And I wanna suggest that something happens when we remember this story every year.
Maybe maybe you could feel it happening as you try to use Ignatius' contemplative model of bringing your senses to the text. In one way, when we rehearse this story, we participate in a kind of vivid collective remembrance where we are reminded that Christ came and that Christ lived and that Christ entered Holy Week with every intention of changing the way that we think about God. And when we do that we remember well. But but I also think that Christ's friends as they did in the days and months and years after that very first Palm Sunday, I think like them we can discover that faith is somehow found, that it grows, that it appears in us as we look back at our stories and we try to remember well. And and here's what I mean.
For me personally, there's something in the annual return through Lent into Holy Week where I find myself seeing the ways that God has been faithful over the past year. There's something of faith that emerges in me when I realize that I am more gentle with myself today than I used to be and I now have this database of memories where I've been astonished by grace and I've been formed by communities like this one that have softened and healed my heart in ways that I didn't think would happen. Listen, that might not be you, but maybe in today's retelling, find yourself intrigued by a Jesus who aspired to be more than a political or an ethnic mascot. How that Jesus is so much more interesting and different than the one you remember. Or maybe, you're struck by how Christ's humble generous way, how you can realize in this moment, that's been the key to you reconciling with yourself.
It's been the key to you forgiving others. It's become part of what's made you whole and you, only you, have the memories to prove it. And with that kind of memory keeping, and our remembering that Christ came on Palm Sunday with a different message, and with a willingness to let love rule all, Perhaps like Christ's friends, we will come to understand this holy week what it is all about. Let's pray. Loving God, in the mystery of this moment, we are caught up and maybe struck by this story again.
A story of a different God. A story that reflects back to us all of the ways in which our way through the world has been so fractured and been so broken. The ways in which we have been turned against one another. By the ways we are always looking for a champion for our pain. And how on Palm Sunday, Jesus, you came not to be that champion, but to be the king of all of our desperate hearts.
And so we ask for grace to come and meet you on the road to lay our palms down and to receive you as you lead us into the mystery of sacrifice and what love requires and how love recovers all. This is our hope today. Amen.
Speaker 2: Hey, Jeremy here, and thanks for listening to our podcast. If you're intrigued by the work that we're doing here at Commons, you can head to our website, commons.church, for more information. You can find us on all of the socials commonschurch. You can subscribe to our YouTube channel where we are posting content regularly for the community. You can also join our Discord server.
Head to commons.churchdiscord for the invite, and there you will find the community having all kinds of conversations about how we can encourage each other to follow the way of Jesus. We would love to hear from you. Anyway, thanks for tuning in. Have a great week. We'll talk to you soon.