Preacher: Rev. Jennifer Hosler, PhD

Date: March 17, 2024

It was desolate and lonely. A few chirping birds. Some wild mustard growing along the edge of a fence. Numerous CCTV security cameras peering down at me. Just three weeks ago, I hiked up and then walked down the Mount of Olives and made my way to the Temple Mount or Noble Sanctuary in East Jerusalem.

 It was desolate. Yet during Lent (the weeks before Easter), the Old City and the Mount of Olives should have been thronging with Christian pilgrims. Instead of crowds, the streets were lonely. Sometimes I was the only person on a street or in a church. Sometimes I was the only foreigner, a keen interest to shopkeepers for whom I was their only customer that day… and it was the end of the day.

Since October 7^th, few pilgrims or religious tourists have come to Jerusalem. Not only that, Palestinians who used to have more freedom of movement within the West Bank and East Jerusalem are now either stranded with little opportunity to travel even within their home jurisdiction (because Israel controls the movement of Palestinians) or they face a long journey with roadblocks and checkpoints that are often arbitrarily closed, long lines, and even the risk of arbitrary arrest or death.

Today (Palm Sunday), in Jerusalem, on the Mount of Olives and in the Old City, I am sure that the number of Palestinian Christians able to celebrate is extremely limited. Age restrictions have been in place for Muslim worshippers attempting to worship at Al-Aqsa mosque during Ramadan. Last year for Easter, the government of Israel was dramatically limiting the number of Palestinian Christians able to come for Easter services—and that was prior to October 7^th.

There are probably some foreigners, plus religious leaders of various orders from around the world who live in Jerusalem, plus some Palestinian Christians, who made the journey from the Mount of Olives today. I imagine that the liturgy was laden with grief. When I was there as part of a Christian solidarity delegation, the genocide in Gaza was weighting everyone down with sorrow and daily life had become so much harder and unpredictable with a clamped down occupation.

While I think of Palm Sunday as a joyful religious holiday in a normal year, grief, suffering, and the burden of occupation are actually on-theme. In Jesus’ day, the Roman Empire controlled the life and freedom of movement for everyone in Palestine. Jews who sought to practice their faith and worship in the Temple needed to refrain from talk of a Messiah who would come to deliver them.

The Scriptures we read on Palm Sunday are referred to as Jesus’ Triumphal Entry. People in Jesus’ times were familiar with triumphal entries of leaders.  In fact, there was a typical format that each entry took. First, it required a victory: the victor rode into the city on a steed and with an entourage and the crowds welcomed and rejoiced. Second, the victor moved toward a temple or religious site, and then gave a sacrificial offering to a deity.  In Jesus’ day, heroes big and small entered cities in this triumphant fashion after military conquests, including renowned warriors like Alexander the Great and Judas Maccabeus. 

For Jewish people in first century Roman times, triumphal entries had historic and cultural implications, but they also had eschatological or end time significance. Jews had been oppressed by Greek and Roman occupation. The Hebrew prophets had spoken of a Messiah, a person sent from God to deliver the nation of Israel, to restore its faith, and to usher in God’s kingdom and reign over the whole earth. As the oppression continued year after year, the hope and longing for a Messiah grew and grew. Various people claimed to be messiahs and Jewish political revolts rose up and were crushed down. The people yearned for a hero. Some yearned for freedom from foreign occupation, some for yearned political domination and a Jewish empire, some yearned for the presence of YHWH to once again dwell in the temple.

 When we meet Jesus in Matthew 21, Jerusalem is teeming with people. The Temple was the center of the Jewish faith and Passover was the holiday most central to the peoples’ existence. Passover celebrates when LORD delivered the Israelites from slavery in Egypt.

 The Messianic fervor was likely at its yearly peak at Passover. After all, this is the time of year when YHWH had sent a deliverer before, when God used Moses to strike down the Egyptians! I imagine that there were words of liberation silently on the tongues of many pilgrims as they walked past Roman guards, with their extra military reinforcements at the ready. It reminds me of children saying, “Free Palestine” in the Aida refugee camp in Bethlehem, an act which could get those children arrested, pulled out of their beds by soldiers with guns in the middle of the night.

We enter the scene in Matthew amidst the throngs of pilgrims. Jesus pulls aside and sends his disciples in search of a donkey, in a specific location.  Jesus’ request of his disciples seems strange to us. “Go and get me a donkey, please.”  Jesus isn’t tired of walking (but he probably should be, since they’ve come from 80 miles north in Galilee over many days). This donkey riding is “a deliberate act, meant to be noticed” (France, 1994, p. 931). Jesus knows his scriptures and chooses to finally present himself and claim the role that the LORD God has bestowed upon him. The colt is brought with its mother, the disciples place their coats on its back, and Jesus begins to ride to Jerusalem on a young donkey.

The crowds around Jesus—probably pilgrims and disciples, interested people and hangers-on—recognize what this means and embrace his act.  They throw their coats on the ground for Jesus to pass on, just as people did for King Jehu in 2 Kings 9. People grab palm branches and other tree branches and spread them out on the road and wave them in exaltation, shouting praises from Psalm 118: “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest heavens!”

The prophet Zechariah had spoken long before that the future King of Israel would come riding on a young donkey. In that passage, the LORD proclaims that he will rescue Israel from warring and violence and that the LORD would reign through the Messianic King (Zech 9:9-17)

            “Rejoice greatly, O daughter Zion! Should aloud, O daughter Jerusalem! Lo, your king comes to you; triumphant and victorious is he, humble and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey. He will cut off the chariot from Ephraim and the war-horse from Jerusalem; and the battle bow shall be cut off, and he shall command peace to the nations; his dominion shall be from sea to sea and from the River to the ends of the earth” (vv. 9-10).

By riding into town on a donkey and by coming into Jerusalem through the Mount of Olives (a place linked in Zechariah to YHWH’s deliverance), Jesus is symbolically claiming to be the King of his people, the promised heir of David, the Son of David. He’s claiming to be the Victorious One, sent by God to redeem a people oppressed by sin and violence and war.

The Triumphal Entry is theologically important because Jesus claims his role as the Davidic King.  The Triumphal entry is also crucial because it shows us what type of King Jesus is: not an oppressive king, not a violent king, but a servant king. Jesus comes into Jerusalem, not on a mighty steed or warhorse like other victors, but on a donkey. He comes as Lord and King not for his own privilege or to wage war, but to serve and deliver others, to usher in a kingdom of peace. This King goes on to wash his disciples’ feet, to model humility, grace, and sacrifice.

Jesus turns out not to be the Messiah that people were expecting. Just a few days from all the palm waving and throwing and coats on the road, the supposed deliverer is arrested, beaten, tortured, and executed like a murderer or a thief. He is crucified, and all the glory and praises of Sunday feel a world away on Friday. Some had wanted a superhero to overthrow the Romans. Some had wanted a King to reign like David. None wanted a murdered Messiah.

Throughout the gospels, we see Jesus turning our human expectations upside down. Though the people yearn for a savior, a deliverer, a superhero, the Creator of the Universe enters the world as a baby, as a newborn. This King of the Jews comes in on a donkey, not a war horse. Power and strength are not shown through violence, but through healing, through compassion, through mercy, through the washing of feet, and by choosing to die and to sacrifice Himself for others.

The cries of the crowds echo the cries of millions today. “Save us! We beseech you! Hosanna! Save!