Holy Week: Palm Sunday

“…HAVING LOVED HIS OWN WHO WERE IN THE WORLD, [JESUS] LOVED THEM TO THE END” (JOHN 13:1).

Palm Sunday marks the beginning of the end of Jesus’ life on earth. Having loved His disciples throughout His ministry, Jesus continued toward Jerusalem and the cross that awaited. Heading wide-eyed toward a certain execution simply makes no sense unless we remember the truths we’ve already clung to during this Easter season. On Ash Wednesday we remembered that there is no resurrection that is not preceded by death. Throughout Lent we recalled that there is no exaltation that is not preceded by humility. On Palm Sunday we are reminded that the cross by necessity precedes the crown.

The events of the Sunday five days before Passover are recorded in all four gospels (Matthew 21:1-11; Mark 11:1-11; Luke 19:28-40; John 12:12-19). Three of the four accounts reference palm branches or leafy branches that the crowd waved and laid along the path into Jerusalem, along with their coats. Many liturgical churches today will hold processions into their sanctuaries waving palm branches commemorating the approach of Jesus into Jerusalem during the final week of His life on earth. But perhaps the most important symbol of the day is not the palm branches, but the unbroken (previously unridden) donkey colt, the symbol Jesus chose.

Around 520 BC, the prophet Zechariah foretold of the righteous and victorious King that will come to Jerusalem humbly, “riding… on a colt, the foal of a donkey” (Zech. 9:9). Approximately 550 years later, Jesus fulfills the sign of the King of the universe coming on a donkey’s colt.

Triumphal entries were by no means unique to the story of Jesus. The Roman Triumph (and here, and here) was as ingrained in the culture of the Roman Empire as fireworks on July 4, the celebration of Independence Day in the United States. Artistic depictions such as the Triumph of Aemilius Paulus by Carle Vernet (1789) illustrate the pomp and pageantry; victorious generals crowned with laurel wreaths riding into Rome in gilded chariots loaded down with the spoils of war, drawn by splendid horses. (More artistic examples are here, here, and here.)

Compared to such pageantry, how pitiful Jesus’ “triumphal” entry into Jerusalem must have seemed. Instead of laurel wreaths, the people simply hacked off palm branches to wave. Instead of a gilded chariot, people threw down their coats, both as a saddle and a path. Instead of mighty war horses, Jesus enters on a borrowed unbroken donkey foal—not even trained for riding. There are no spoils of war. And at the end of the path, there is not glory that awaits, but a cross, the highest dishonor Rome could offer.

Ignited by the resurrection of Lazarus of Bethany from the dead (John 11), the people saw in Jesus a hope of liberty and salvation. Yet, liberty and salvation from what? They tell us by the greeting they shouted at Jesus as He entered their midst:

Hosanna!
Blessed is He who comes
in the name of the Lord!

Blessed is the coming kingdom
of our father David!
Hosanna in the highest heaven!

Mark 11:9-10

“Hosanna!” The word is an urgent plea, an exhortation. “Save us now!” they cried. “Victory now!” they all but demanded. Having raised a man from death, could this Jesus not also subdue Rome? The people longed for the promise of a foretold king, but for what sort of kingdom—a heavenly or an earthly one? For what sort of liberty do they cry out—political or spiritual? This crowd yelled for a king to conquer Rome because they could not even see their greater need for the One King who would conquer sin and death. This blindness is precisely the reason Jesus wept for the city saying, “If you knew this day what would bring peace—but now it is hidden from your eyes” (Luke 19:41-42).

“Palm Sunday reveals Jesus’ humility. He is not like other kings who enter cities atop war horses in celebration of bloody victory. He is the humble king who saves by dying for the sins of the world” (McCauley, 2022). Jesus is certainly the promised Son of David, but the shape of that kingship is cruciform—cross-shaped. All of Jesus’ life, from His very first cries in the manger, have led to this moment, this place, this holy week.

As disciples (students and followers) of Christ, are we willing to follow on this road knowing it must pass through Golgotha, the place of death? Are we willing to trade the triumphant war horse for the humble donkey foal? “If we are going to follow Jesus, then we do not have to fight the way the world fights. We do not use their tools and means to get what we want” (McCauley, 2022). More than we do not, we cannot. Is the surpassing knowledge of Jesus Christ, the invitation of union with Him a dear enough prize that we would count all else as waste and declare with the apostle Paul, “My goal is to know Him and the power of His resurrection and the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to His death…” (Phil. 3:10, emphasis mine)? Will we join this prayer with the saints of the global church:

Almighty and everlasting God, in Your tender love for the human race You sent Your Son our Savior Jesus Christ to take upon Him our nature, and to suffer death upon the cross, giving us the example of His great humility: Mercifully grant that we may walk in the way of His suffering, and also share in His resurrection; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with You and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

(The 1979 Book of Common Prayer, 2005).

 

LEARN MORE ABOUT PALM SUNDAY AND THE REST OF THE EASTER SEASON

Lent: The Season of Repentance and Renewal (Fullness of Time) by Esau McCauley (2022, IVP Formatio)

The 1979 Book of Common Prayer (2005, Oxford University Press)

 

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