The Palm/Passion Conundrum

I used to think that Palm Sunday got pretty short shrift in the Episcopal Church. Over forty years ago, in the revisions for the current Book of Common Prayer that were completed when I was in seminary, we combined Palm Sunday and Sunday of the Passion onto one Sunday observation. That made the service both long and disjointed. In our past we observed Passion Sunday two weeks before Easter and Palm Sunday the next week. But there were some peculiarities.

In our former liturgies, on Passion Sunday we didn’t read any of the Passion Gospels that describe the arrest, torture and execution of Jesus. Instead we read of a confrontation between Jesus and the religious leaders which concluded with him declaring “before Abraham was, I am.” To these authorities that statement would sound like Jesus would be claiming to be God. Not surprisingly their reaction was to look around for stones to throw at him. He manages to escape. And that’s Passion Sunday?

Then there came Palm Sunday, today, the Sunday before Easter. But did we read about Jesus riding into Jerusalem? Nooooo. We read the passion from the Gospel of Matthew. The whole blessed thing. Over three pages of small print. A very cursory review of our former liturgical practice indicates that the story of Palm Sunday was never read at all in our Sunday services. Our changes have made a step toward giving the Palm Sunday story its due, but only a small step.

The current liturgy for Palm Sunday begins with an acclamation and a prayer, followed by the Palm Sunday stories from either Matthew, Mark or Luke. Then follows a prayer over the palms followed by the palm procession. Most Episcopal churches use the hymn “All Glory, Laud and Honor” but stop in the midst of the hymn for this prayer:

Almighty God, whose most dear Son went not up to joy but first he suffered pain, and entered not into glory before he was crucified: Mercifully grant that we, walking in the way of the cross, may find it none other than the way of life and peace; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

At the conclusion of the procession the service drops any focus on the Palm Sunday story and focuses instead on the Passion, including the reading of the Passion Gospel. Since the great majority of the service is the Passion, it’s hardly surprising that, over the years, most of my preaching on that day focused on the Passion as well. But in so doing I’ve neglected an important opportunity to tell part of the Jesus story that is often overlooked. It is overlooked in part, because it contradicts the narrative of religious culture that has been part of Christianity for centuries.

The scene that Jesus is acting out is almost familiar to his followers and the citizens of Jerusalem – almost familiar but with a twist. He is riding into Jerusalem and the crowds hail him as the son of David, declaring their hope that Jesus is the coming king, the long promised Messiah. But. Had they been paying closer attention they might have noticed that he’s not been following the script of kingship.

He’s drawn huge crowds, but he hasn’t assembled troops. He’s performed amazing miracles that can only be done with the power of God, but he hasn’t called down fire from on high to destroy the Roman occupying forces. He’s brought healing to many but at least one of the healed was the enemy, the servant of a Roman soldier. He’s taught about God’s kingdom, declared that this long awaited kingdom is at hand, but he’s peppered his teaching with troubling directions about blessing those who curse us and loving our enemies. He’s been to Jerusalem a couple of times but does most of his ministry in Galilee.

When he finally does make his move in Jerusalem he rides on a donkey. When a king comes riding to take charge of an enemy occupied city, he rides a warhorse. Jesus rides a donkey. In so doing he is channeling a prophecy from Zechariah: in which the king enters Jerusalem in humility and there is a promise of peace to the nations. Jesus is sending a message in all that he does. The kingdom of God doesn’t operate in the way human governments and rulers operate. God’s approach to power is not our approach to power.

There are two types of kingdom in contrast here: the kingdom of God and the kingdom of Caesar. These kingdoms are based on quite different – and contradictory – principles. Caesar’s way is the way our world works. Sadly, Caesar’s way is all too often the way the Church works. But the Caesar way is not the Jesus way. The Jesus way makes no sense in Caesar’s world. The Jesus way meets with incredulity, scorn and anger in Caesar’s world.

It is the Jesus way to which God calls each and every individual as an apprentice. It is the Jesus way into which God invites apprentices to be a Christian community. It is only the Jesus way that lasts, it is only the Jesus way that at the end of the day, wins.