Journey's Weekly Homilies
Palm Sunday, Year B
April 13, 2003
homily by Sam
Isaiah 50:4-7
Philippeans 2
Mark 11:1-10
Someone once said, "I will express all facets of my being.
Despite state or local laws. We have seen an example of that
this weekend. I'm not talking about the demonstration at
Waterfront Park yesterday although I could be. I'm not
talking about the vital health products that this community is
assembling today to send to Iraqi civilinas although the
description still fits. I speak of the demonstration that
occurred on the last week of Jesus' life, a march that we have
just repeated.
"I will express all aspects of my being despite state or
local laws." Today I will tell a story of the power of
words. I will explain the significance of the procession
that led Jesus to the gates of the city of Jerusalem. And I
will talk about why such things matter to me.
The scene is South Africa in the early 1970's. A young boy
just learning to read walks down the streets with his father who
is illiterate. Today will be that boy's first memory
of apartheid.
For twenty years blacks have been banished to squalid townships,
commuting for hours to work in white home and businesses.
Songs of protest and mass marches have failed to move the temples
of power. Nelson Mandela is ten years into a life sentence
in South Africa's most brutal prison. Other black leaders
have been imprisoned or killed. At the funeral of every
martyr throngs of people
sing in protest, "Senzeni Na, Sono Sethu?"
"What have we done? What is our sing?" That will
become the anthem of their movement.
The young boy, oblivious to all of this, walks down the street,
proud of his newfound reading skills. He sees graffiti on
the wall and slowly reads, "Free Mandela Or Bombs!"
His father, horrified, grabs him and scolds him. The boy can
read but does not know the meaning of the words. The father
cannot read the words but understands their meaning. Some
words are too powerful to speak.
Today we begin a week of stories and actions that express the core
truths of our faith. Like that young boy we say the words,
sing the songs, and perform the rituals barely understanding the
power of what we do.
Today we reenact the march on Jerusalem singing, "Be here
among us!" But do we really know why that got a man
killed? And do we understand what it will cost us if we
follow after?
By the time Jesus reaches the gates of Jerusalem his legend has
grown and he brings with him throngs of peasants who acclaim him
as king and lord in in the memory of the great King David.
Jesus has used stories, symbolic healings, and disputes with the
political and religious elite to confront the temple state that
exploits them. Today Jesus orchestrates his approach to
Jerusalem. He knows everything that will happen and he goes
to his fate with eyes open.
Jesus does not demand a stately, powerful horse befitting a king
or a successful military hero. Instead he chooses a small
colt. The fact that this colt has never been ridden suggests
that the animal has been set aside for this specific purpose,
consecrated to this use. Jesus promises to return the
animal, highlighting the difference between himself and the Roman
conquerers who confiscate peasant property and do not return it.
Jesus will be a different kind of lord than this.
The approach to Jerusalem is ominous. It is the Passover and
the city is teeming with pilgrims, many of them peasants like
Jesus. They have been driven to destitution by political and
religious taxes. Their wealth has been siphoned off to
Jerusalem. And here they are surrounding the gates of the
city. Are they here to worship or to express their
grievances?
The peasants acclaim Jesus not with palm branches as with the
heroes from an earlier rebellion but with simple straw cut from
the fields. This is a poor people's movement marching on the
wealth and gandeur of the nation. The peasants lay down
straw and coats to honor Jesus so that even the feet of his horse
do not need to touch the ground. They acclaim Jeus in the
memory of David, the Shepherd king. They cry out 'hosannah',
which means, 'God save us'.
This is a call for liberation, exactly what the religious and
political leaders fear. They have packed the city with armed
men in case of this kind of uprising. And now they call an
emergency meeting to decide what to do with Jesus. They need
to arrest and kill him without inciting riots among his followers.
They will devise a plan to arrest Jesus in secret and
systematically degrade him so that even his closest friends will
not rally to his defense.
The prophet Zechariah has told of a day when Jerusalem will be
occupied by foreign tyrants and God will rescue the nation by
attacking them from the Mount of Olives. Today Jesus scouts
the temple and then retreats to the Mount of Olives to plan his
next move. Tomorrow he will throw the money changers out of
the temple. The next day he will return to preach against
the false teachers.
Like every demonstration the march on Jerusalem establishes
solidarity among angry and discouraged people. It is also a
show of strength to those in power. Jesus and his followers
are saying, "We will not be silent and we will not go away.
You will have to kill us all." Like mobs of blacks
singing "Senzeni Na" to the faces of their oppressors
under apartheid.
Our Jesus does not lead a peasant revolt like Fidel Castro in
Cuba. He could if he wanted to but he is not that kind of
Lord. Unlike the masters that currently rule over the people
Jesus serves only God and the justice that God calls for. He
declares that he is ready to die rather than be silent. Now
thousands rally around his example. That is what we remember
today.
The older I get the more committed I become to the work of peace,
yet the less confident I am that I will see peace in my lifetime.
I continue to serve this cause because the longer I live the less
important everything else becomes. Silence and passivity in
the face of injustice feels more and more like a kind of death, a
death that Jesus refused.
Singing "Senzeni Na" did not end apartheid. But it
changed people. And through forty years of songs and marches
those people wore down the power and wealth of an empire without
the use of violence.
Today we begin a week of stories, songs, and actions that
celebrate the essence of Jesus' life. Our songs and
demonstrations in memory of Jesus wil not curb the money and power
that drives our own leaders to conquer nations. But they do
break the silence. The collective voicer and actons fo the
American churches has been heard in the peace movement. And
that has given our leaders pause.
This week as we follow Jesus to Jerusalem may we sing with every
ounce of our being. Let us lay our lives beneath his feet
today. Let us join him in a prayer for peace at his last
meal, mourn at the foot of the cross, and rejoice on Easter that
the tomb is empty and he goes before us still.