Holy Week
Matthew 21:1-13; 27:1-54

Palm Sunday

In 1942 the British troops under the command of General Montgomery routed Field Marshal Rommel's army in Northern Africa. This was a major victory for Britain over Nazi Germany in World War II. Winston Churchill was elated with the news, but he was cautious. On the one hand he wanted to celebrate the triumph by ringing the church bells of England, but he thought that might lead to a premature complacency. Hitler was by no means finished and nobody should let down their guard. Churchill did finally order the celebratory ringing of the bells, but he also gave a speech where he warned his countrymen, “This is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning.” Palm Sunday has as well an ambivalent note to it. Christ enters Jerusalem in triumph, but that triumph is tempered by the dread shadow of the cross. On this Palm Sunday let's ponder anew that rustic parade that marched into Jerusalem 2,000 years ago.

After mounting a donkey on the Mount of Olives, Jesus began His ride to Jerusalem. His disciples followed. Spontaneously, crowds flocked to the moving column. Some of them who surrounded the Lord were from Bethany. That is where Jesus had just raised Lazarus from the dead. Others were from Galilee, who knew Him well. Others were comprised of the blind, the lame, and a good number of laughing boys and girls.

The masses began to spread clothes and palm branches across the road. The donkey passed over them in regal splendor. Cheers went up, “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” The disciples knew that Jesus hated acclaim, so they must have been surprised when He accepted this display of fanaticism, and even encouraged it. To the Pharisees who objected, He explained, “I tell you, if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out.”

And yet, paradoxically, tears accompanied those cheers. Jesus wept. Jesus wept as His donkey entered the city, according to St. Luke's account. Why? The procession came into full view of Jerusalem and He remembered all that this city had received, and what would befall it. He saw the mighty walls, buildings rising up, the tower of Antonia, a palace of dazzling elegance, and most impressive of all Herod's Temple with its vast complex. He envisioned the day when not a stone would be left upon another, and these people, His people, the Jews, during three and a half years of siege would be slaughtered, and the survivors led forth into slavery. He wept because He knew how easily a mob could turn. He knew that the plaudits of many in the crowd were inspired by dreams of a political utopia.

They wanted a Messiah who would rule them from Jerusalem, free them of Roman domination, exalt Israel above all the nations, and provide bread and fishes forever. Jesus was indeed the Messiah but this was not the kind of kingdom He came to establish. He refused to offer such a thing. Zechariah 9:9 gives the most accurate description of the Messiahship Jesus came to put in place, “Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion! Shout aloud, O daughter of Jerusalem! Behold, your king is coming to you; righteous and having salvation is he, humble and mounted on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.” Hence, Jesus entered Jerusalem not as a warlike Deliverer but for peaceful purposes: He came to save the world, to release it from the bondage of sin, and establish a reign of righteousness. The Lord was trying to show the crowd the kind of Messiah He was, no man of war, but lowly, and riding on a donkey. In a few days the masses at the Feast realized Jesus wasn't going to fulfill their dreams. They became disappointed, and there is no hatred bitterer than that of people disappointed by high hopes. Hence, the same voices that shouted “Hosanna!” on Sunday, shrieked, “Crucify him!” on Friday.

The ministry of the Lord Jesus was drawing to a close. His crucifixion had been determined in the counsels of the Godhead before the creation of the world. The hatred of the Pharisees had reached a climax. Come what might, the Jewish leaders were going to trap Jesus and dispatch Him once for all. With the help of 30 shekels to Judas, and the vacillating cowardice of Pilate, they attained their desire. They apprehended the Lord in the garden, brought Him to trial, and received permission to execute Him.

Why did Jesus allow this to happen? He knew the miserable condition of men and women cut off from a Holy God. They are eternally condemned by the guilt of their sin, and enslaved by its power and dominion. Even creation itself groans under the curse. Man and the world must be redeemed from this terrible condition brought about by the Fall. Jesus was thus entering His passion – the shame, the whip, the nails, and finally death. It was the only way, the predetermined plan, to redeem the world.

Our Gospel passage from Matthew 27 records many of the grisly details of Christ's passion. Before the physical torture started, the disciples received several more days of teaching. Jesus cleansed the Temple, grappled endlessly with His adversaries, the Pharisees, washed the feet of His disciples, and instituted Holy Communion in the middle of the Passover meal. It was toward the end of Holy Week that Christ sweated drops of blood in the cool, spacious olive groves of Gethsemane. After His betrayal by Judas and His arrest by the soldiers, Scripture shows Him walking a lonely road: from the Hall of Caiaphas, to the public tribunal of Pilate, to the hill called Calvary. That road offered little respite from the excruciating pain and shame (although Simon of Cyrene did help Him carry His cross). Bound, beaten and bloody, surrounded by Roman soldiers, He was shoved along amidst a torrent of jeers and taunts. At certain points in the passion the Son of God was stripped naked, flogged, spat on, struck in the face, and crowed with thorns. On the ride into Jerusalem that first Palm Sunday, the Lord had an idea that this would happen. Yes, the crowds cheered, but the glory was bittersweet at best.

Jesus proceeded to the cross. Love for the human race drove Him on (1 John 4:7 ff.). He must bear the sin of mankind, to become sin for us, though He knew no sin. His soul would be crushed by God's wrath. His body would be mangled beyond recognition. The trauma His body suffered is evidenced when the soldier ran his spear-point into the Lord's ribs. Water and blood mingled burst out of His broken heart the instant the blade made its puncture.

But the physical agony was nothing compared to the burden placed upon Him by God the Father. God loaded on His Beloved Son our sins, our guilt, our punishment, and the curse we deserved. Our sculptress friend Karen Schmidt is presently working on a crucifix. It is now nearly completed in her studio. The clay work communicates something about the weight bearing down on Christ. The body of Jesus hanging on the cross is grotesquely bowed. You see it especially in the overwhelming pressure bearing down on His neck, shoulders, and back, pulling his outstretched arms and nail-pierced hands. The truth we should grasp? Your sins and mine are torturing Jesus with their weight. No punishment has ever been so great; no wrath so fierce; no weight so backbreaking. Thank God the earth went dark for three hours. No eye was permitted to see it; no eye should.

And why did the Lord allow this? Love. It was out of love for you and me that He rode into Jerusalem and made His way to Calvary to take our place. He made atonement for us through His own suffering love. Jesus reconciled us, utterly condemned and lost in our sin, to a Holy God. Through the merits of His death and passion we are saved. Jesus was our Substitute and Representative at every step on the path of His passion. We are all Barabbases. Like Barabbas we escape the cross, for Christ died in our place.

Let us consider other Palm Sunday themes. The palm-laden roads and palm-waving crowds call to mind the worship of Heaven. In Revelation 7:9, St. John states that he beheld, “a great multitude which no one could number, of all nations, tribes, peoples, and tongues, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed with white robes, with palm branches in their hands, and crying out with a loud voice, saying, “Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the lamb!” One can detect a parallel between the triumphant entry and the heavenly adoration. The palms call to mind the worship of Heaven. Our worship too must be heavenly. In the Spirit we rise up to join the heavenly hosts during our special worship every Lord's Day.

Palm Sunday teaches another message: Jesus is indeed the King. A day is coming when He shall reign over all nations as King of kings and Lord of lords. Every knee will bow… and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord to the glory of God the Father” (Phil. 2:11). All four Gospels record Christ's triumphal entry at His First Advent. That is what we celebrate today on Palm Sunday. Revelation 19 describes His triumphal entry at His Second Advent. Let's read Revelation 19:11-16. [Read them.]

Here we see the Coming of the Son of Man after His resurrection and ascension. He no longer comes on a donkey, but on a white charger. There are multiple pictures of Christ: He hangs on a cross, He is Risen, He sits on His Heavenly throne, and in Revelation 19 He rides forth on a cavalry horse. He wages war on His enemies and wins. Even now, as the Church faithfully preaches God's Word and celebrates the Sacraments Christ comes mounted on His warhorse. Accompanied by myriads of warrior angels our King defeats the Church's enemies. This is a message of hope to a suffering Church; it is an inspiring truth to those who yearn to see Christian transformation throughout the earth. David Chilton put it this way: “As the Gospel progresses throughout the world it will win, and win, and win, until all kingdoms become the kingdoms of our Lord, and of His Christ; and He will reign for ever and ever. We must not concede to the enemy even one square inch of ground in Heaven or on earth. Christ and His army are riding forth, conquering and to conquer, and we through Him will inherit all things.” [Close quote.]

Lastly, Palm Sunday points us to the road that leads to the cross. Jesus trod a terrible path and we must join Him. We can't just look back and remember that at the center of history Jesus carried His cross and died on it. We follow His example. We too must walk the road to the cross and we must walk it today, tomorrow, and every day of our lives. Jesus solemnly stated, “Whoever does not take his cross and follow me is not worthy of me” (Matthew 10:38). Likewise, “Whoever does not bear his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple (Luke 14:27). We must heed these commands. Like Simon of Cyrene we carry the cross, for Christ calls us to take it up and follow Him. If we are following Christ with a cross on our shoulder it means we are going to the place of crucifixion; of course, not literally. I heard of somebody who laid down on a cross, took a hammer and nailed one hand to the beam, and only then did he figure out he couldn't hammer a nail in the other hand. This is not what Jesus was talking about. Carrying the cross has to do with dying to self, mortifying evil desires, crucifying the flesh, exercising self-denial and discipline. Self-crucifixion is based on the assumption that our self is totally depraved. When we take up the hammer in our hand we pound in and firmly fasten to the cross our fallen nature. We nail it there so it dies.

The early church fathers believed that “taking up the cross” meant martyrdom. In popular language, people refer to an irritable husband or a cantankerous wife as a cross they must bear. This is not necessarily what Jesus was trying to say. During Lent many of us deny ourselves luxuries such as chocolates, cupcakes, cigarettes and booze. This is getting closer to what Jesus was talking about. In actuality, to carry the cross and die, to deny oneself is to turn away from self-centeredness. It is a moral death we die. “Mortification of the flesh” is what the older theologians called it. Putting to death the sin nature is an extremely difficult effort we put forth with the help of the Holy Spirit. Whatever we are by the Fall we must kill and repudiate. What are the things we crucify? Our moral perversity, our lack of sexual self-control, the selfishness which spoils our family life, our fascination with the ugly, our lazy refusal to develop God's gifts, the trashing of our homes and neighborhoods, our behavior that weakens the fellowship of the Church, let's not forget our pride, that must be crucified every minute. And we mortify our idolatrous refusal to worship the living and true God. All this is part of our fallen humanness. Christ came not to redeem this but to destroy it. So daily we must strenuously deny our sinful impulses, repudiate them, carry them to the place of death, and crucify them.

In order to crucify the flesh, you will need the strengthening grace of the Holy Spirit. That strength is offered in the Eucharist when you come in faith. To those who partake rightly God grants strength and refreshment of body and soul. You are now invited to the feast of the body and blood of Christ. Come in faith to receive grace and strength to crucify the flesh and carry the cross.

Let us pray.

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