“Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord”: a reflection

The time had come for the Passover celebrations. The people of Israel were travelling from far and wide to make their annual pilgrimage to Jerusalem, the holy city, the home of the Hebrew Temple.

This was a journey Jesus knew well, having made it annually with his parents, as we read in the second chapter of Luke.

Being one of the major pilgrim festivals, Passover celebrates the great Exodus from slavery in Egypt. Exodus, for the Hebrew people is about liberation and identity.

Liberation – the setting free from slavery and oppression.

Identity – knowing they are the people of God.

As the people wind their way in anticipation of what lay ahead, two processions are forming.

From the west comes Pontius Pilate, draped in the gaudy glory of imperial power: horses, chariots, and gleaming armour. He descends on Jerusalem with the might of the Roman army. As compliant as the Pharisees and Jewish scribes usually are, insurrection is always a possibility when the Hebrew commoners gather en masse to remember God’s deliverance of their ancestors from slavery in Egypt. And Pilate will use whatever means necessary to maintain peace – curfew, violence, even death if necessary. Also from the west comes Herod Antipas who, enticed by power and buoyed by his own importance, has become a puppet king of the Roman Emperor. He has travelled from Galilee to Jerusalem for the Passover celebrations.

From the east comes another procession, a commoner’s procession: Jesus in ordinary robe riding on a young donkey. There is nothing showy or glamorous in this procession. And yet, as he nears Jerusalem, the crowds gather; branches are waved, a carpet of cloaks laid before him and shouts of praise and triumph echo through the valley:

“Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord!

Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest heaven!”

The throng of disciples cannot contain themselves. A group of Pharisees plead with Jesus, “Tell them to stop.” Are they embarrassed by the wild, ecstatic praise? Are they envious? Are they trying to warn Jesus of the danger of such a demonstration? Of Pilate’s potential retribution against them?

Why are the people so excited? Because the Messiah has come. The despotic Roman Empire will be conquered, and peace and freedom will reign once again for the people of God.

The timing of Jesus’ entering of Jerusalem is important and well planned. But do the people trumpeting his arrival understand the significance of the one they herald?

Back in chapter 9 of Luke’s gospel, before Jesus “sets his sights on Jerusalem,” a small group of his disciples witness a supernatural encounter between Jesus and two ancient fathers of the Hebrew faith, Moses and Elijah. “They appeared in glory,” recounts Luke, “and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem.”

The Greek word translated here as ‘departure’ is Exodos. Moses, the epitome of the Jewish Law and Elijah, the great Prophet, are meeting with Jesus to affirm a new Exodus, a new act of liberation and identity, which he will accomplish at Jerusalem.

As Jesus nears the Jerusalem, he pauses at the Mount of Olives and looks out over the city.

And he weeps.

He weeps for the people who do not understand the way of peace; for those who think great shows of power and authority are the answer. And he weeps for those who will use the violence of crucifixion to try to maintain their distorted version of peace.

Prior to his leaving Jericho for Jerusalem, Jesus encountered Zacchaeus. As a chief tax collector, he worked for Rome. While his occupation made him a very wealthy man, he was shunned by his kinsmen for collaborating with the enemy. Zacchaeus had lost his identity and become an oppressor. The expected thing for Jesus would have been to shun this man whose sins against the Lord God of Israel and God’s people were so great. But this was not what Jesus did.

Shockingly, Jesus not only acknowledges Zacchaeus, but he also chooses to receive hospitality from him. The way of peace is not forged in mighty acts of power. True peace is found in Exodus - in liberation and identity. As Jesus gave back to Zacchaeus his identity as a child of God, Zacchaeus found liberation through giving generously to others and making restitution to those whom he had wronged. In giving up his power, Zacchaeus found a greater power – the deep and previously elusive peace of God.

Following his encounter with Zacchaeus, Jesus tells a parable, something he regularly did to creatively teach about the coming kingdom of God.

A nobleman leaves his country to seek power. Before leaving, he gives 10 of his slaves a gold coin each, with the command that they are to conduct his business for him while he is away. The nobleman is despised, but out of fear the slaves act. Upon his return, the now-powerful ruler praises and rewards those who have made him even richer while punishing the one who, in fear, has protected the little he had been given. The rich got richer while the poor got poorer.

This parable reflects Israel’s situation under Rome. It alludes to Herod Antipas, the Hebrew puppet king whose strings were pulled by the Roman Emperor, and the tax collectors like Zacchaeus, those enslaved to the despotic rule, whether by fear or greed.

The parable points to the kingdom of God by revealing the failures of the kingdom of man.

Jesus the Prince of Peace has come to declare a new exodus, to herald the coming of God’s kingdom through acts of liberation and the formation of identity. Yet how easy it is to be seduced by the allure of power and wealth. King Herod was corrupted by it. The Pharisees sought peace by kowtowing to the might of Rome. The crowds shouting their blessings were drawn by Jesus’ deeds of power, missing the point of God’s grace and mercy.

We are not immune. We live in a materialistic and consumerist society where ‘I need, I want,’ takes priority over the needs of others. Churches today compete with one another, seeking the glory of having the largest congregation, being the most appealing and the most holy. We place ourselves on pedestals as we declare judgement on those whose morals do not stand the test of our expectations. Our outward appearance takes precedent over our inner heart.

And like the multitude of disciples accompanying Jesus into Jerusalem, it is easier to be drawn to Christ’s deeds of power than his simple yet life-giving acts of hospitality and welcome.

Two processions wind their way to Jerusalem. One impresses with its glory and power, doing what it can to maintain the illusion of peace, the illusion of greatness.  The other comes in humility, lost almost in the mundaneness of the ordinary, hidden in the shadows of the brightness of the other.  Yet only one brings liberation to the oppressed and identity to the lost. Which procession will you choose?

Sandra Williams.
Minister.