The Time Has Come
What time is it? Spring. Early in the morning. Just before Passover. On the western border of Jerusalem, a parade was entering the city. Armored men mounted on horses, weapons glinting in the sun’s bright rays, drums beating, The Roman governor, Pontius Pilate, was making his way back into the city from his seaside home in Cesarea, for the holiday. Pilate is coming not to observe the holiday, of course, but to keep the peace. To remind the Jewish people who were gathering to celebrate Passover, to celebrate their liberation from Egypt lo those many years ago, that there was to be no liberation from Rome. No revolts. No uprising.
Another procession is entering the city from the east, silhouetted against the sunrise. The center of attention is this man, Jesus of Nazareth. He is said to have healing powers; he can even bring dead people to life. He teaches and opens up the Scripture in ways no one has ever done before. Could he be the Messiah for whom they had waited?
A crowd had accompanied him from Bethany, where he had spent the night in the home of Lazarus and Mary and Martha, and as people heard he was approaching, a crowd gathered along the roadside to see him as he entered, not in a chariot accompanied by the thunder of horse hooves and drums, but quietly riding on the back of a donkey.
The sign was clear to those gathered. The reference to the Messianic promise of Zechariah 9:9 had their hearts beating harder than any drumbeat. “Rejoice greatly, Daughter Zion! Shout, Daughter Jerusalem! See, your king comes to you, righteous and victorious, lowly and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.” They knew he was the anointed one, the King for whom they had waited. Yet, because of the Scriptural prophesy, surely the deeper meaning of him riding a donkey was lost on those who gathered. Kings rode horses when they were going to war; kings rode donkeys when they came in peace.
In their excitement, they cut palm branches and waved them. Palm trees were a symbol of righteousness, and palm branches a symbol of victory. Every year at Sukkoth, the Festival of Booths, when they celebrated the arrival of God’s people Israel in the promised land after wandering for 40 years in the desert, the men and boys waved lulab, a bundle of willow, myrtle, and palm branches tied together, as the choir sang the psalms that are known as the Hallal, the hymns of praise. The last of which proclaimed, “Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.”
Then, 200 years before Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem, when Judas Maccabaeus had restored the Temple, palm branches were used in the rededication ceremonies, the remembrance of which is Hannukah. So, palm branches were both used in praising God in worship and were a nationalistic symbol for the Jewish people as they continued to struggle against occupation by Rome.
N.T. Wright points out the significance of Jesus entering on Passover and the people responding with the celebrations of Sukkoth and Hannukah. He says it is like us celebrating something new happening that is so exciting that we bring out the Christmas and Easter traditions at once. Suppose we decorated the Sanctuary with Easter lilies and the Chrismon tree and sang Joy to the World, and had the children wave red ribbons like on Pentecost while we passed the light of a candle from one person to the next. Any onlookers would wonder, “What is this celebration?”
This is the turning point. The time has come. “Augustine said that the turning point, not just of the history of Israel, but the history of the entire world, had been reached with the arrival of Jesus. He said that….history had been moving toward this moment from the beginning, and the rest of human history would flow from it” (Ortberg, Who Is This Man?).
The crowd is singing Psalm 118, “Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” And they add this phrase “– the King of Israel.” They hope for the restoration of their nation, freedom from the Roman Empire. And yet, that is not the way the events of the week will go.
How often do we sing God’s praises, hoping God will come and fix it all for us? When we hear “The time has come” what are we hoping for? There were two parades that day – one of might and power and force proclaiming its dominance as it came on war horses, and one of humility and meekness and invitation proclaiming it came in peace. Which do we choose?
Jesus chose. “Unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.” Unless a seed gets buried in the dark, damp earth, where it swells and bursts and a new shoot grows up from it, it is just one seed. But when that shoot grows and bears seeds itself, it spreads and rather than a wheat seed, you have a wheat field.
Rev. Barbara Brown Taylor points out that “If Jesus had saved his life, gone on a speaking tour, and written some books, there is no telling how long his movement might have lasted – a hundred years, maybe, or at least until the books fell apart. But because he was willing to lose his life – because his message mattered so much to him that he was willing to show people what it meant instead of just telling them about it – his seed bore much fruit” “Jesus died to fill the world with wheat.”
We are the seeds of this generation. Where is God calling you to be planted? Where are you called to humbly give your life away? Maybe it is literally planting a garden and giving the produce to an urban desert here in Memphis, where produce isn’t available. Maybe it is contributing to One Great Hour of Sharing so that another community will have a garden. Maybe you will give and package meals for Rise Against Hunger. Both One Great Hour of Sharing and Rise Against Hunger are working to end hunger in our world by 2030; the time has come. Maybe you are called to give your life away by speaking up and speaking out on an issue. Maybe God is calling you to befriend a guest at Room in the Inn or a resident at St. Therese House, or to support a friend going through a challenging time. Maybe there is another ministry at the edges of your thoughts, tugging at your heart. Where are you called to give yourself up?
As we wave palm branches and sing Hosanna welcoming Jesus into Jerusalem, we have a choice to make. Will we be planted with him? Will we accompany him to the Upper Room and the Garden of Gethsemane? Will we stand at the foot of the cross? Are we willing to be broken open so that new life can grow from within us?
The time has come. Our King has arrived, humbly riding on the back of a donkey, knowing the suffering to come. Will we follow him?
In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, Amen.