At the conclusion of the movie "The Sixth Sense" a few years ago, there was
a "trailer" which explained the clues and symbols found throughout the story indicating the undeniable
reality of what in truth was a "surprise ending." In many ways this trailer was as fascinating as the
film itself, showing not only the genius and creativity of its creators, but also how easily one can overlook the
obvious in their pursuit of other ideas.
The same can certainly be said of the life of Jesus. No matter what image one holds of him, he was and is largely
a man of mystery who after two thousand years still fascinates and transforms. It would have been most helpful
if the Gospels had also included a "trailer" clearly explaining the truth contained within all those
incidents in his life that we are inclined to think we understand, but such was not the case.
The mysteries of each gospel remain in tact, waiting to be discovered, and this is especially true in the those
stories we regard as being most familiar. Take for example the Palm Sunday procession. What symbolism are we missing
in our rush to dismiss the start of Holy week as a typical example of fanatic faith with no follow through, or
worse, of holiday fervor with no lasting commitment?
Clearly it was pictured as a big entrance…where in Mark's gospel at least nothing really happened. He wasn't greeted
by town officials, there was no big celebration on the Temple mound, no award given for his history of charitable
acts and fascinating miracles in the past,--in fact by the time they got to their destination "it was already
getting late," so they basically just turned around and went home.
All that hoopla to get to the Temple and they arrive late! Yet no one remembers what took place in the seats of
power that day, but everyone remembers what took place on the street just outside the city gate.
I want us to take a closer look at what we find in the Gospel of Mark, our lection choice for year B, regarding
this particular day in the life of Jesus of Nazareth, and what impact Mark felt it should have on those who would
follow Jesus in the years to come.
First, I think it is highly significant that Mark only wrote 11 verses about Palm Sunday, and 6 of them are about
the colt. We are told that Jesus was on the pilgrim's road from Jericho, rising some 800 meters to the city of
Jerusalem, and considered to be a symbolic journey which rose from the depths of the Dead Sea to the heights of
the City of God. The road passed near Bethany, over the Mount of Olives, down to the Kidron Valley and then by
the small village of Bethphage, a small suburb just outside Jerusalem. On that side road leading to Bethany, Jesus
gets his disciples to go to the village and collect a colt, that "no one has ever ridden," which serves
to highlight its sacred task.
There are numerous references in the Old Testament to the importance of sacrificial animals being untamed, never
having been yoked or ridden. This wild and undisciplined quality is pictured as being more desirable and fitting
in terms of it's suitability to God.
It is easy to miss the point that riding such an animal for the very first time would have been no easy task. Jesus'
mastery over it and by implication, over wild and undisciplined Israel, and by implication "Godly people,"
is an important detail which serves to provide clues toward Mark's understanding of the fulfillment of messianic
prophecy. Mark implies that no one at the time saw anything miraculous in the incident, and given the brevity of
details one assumes that the whole event was obviously prearranged by Jesus, whose disciples follow his instructions
to the letter - they go, they untie, and they say...."The Lord has need of it."
Imagine that today. Do you think that borrowing a colt, an item of as much potential value and usefulness as the
family car was that common a thing to do? Would that work with my neighbors?
Just imagine…"But the Lord has need of it!" "Tell the bum to get his own donkey!"
It would be presumptuous to even think about borrowing the neighbor's lawn mower today, but I have to admit that
the sense of loaning something valuable for short time service to God does come pretty easily to a believer. I
have actually "borrowed" people's babies, spouses, and wedding rings for children's sermons and no one
batted an eye.
In place of a saddle the disciples placed their outer garments on the colt, and those along the way spread their
coats on the ground. It would seem to be a spontaneous reaction demonstrating great respect toward Jesus, for it
is a custom dating again from Old Testament times, and carrying through the story of the early days of Paul the
Apostle, that placing one's cloak at the feet of another was yielding to their authority. Mark is clear however
that their response is not a recognition of his messiahship, since he indicates that the disciples only came to
interpret the event symbolically after Jesus' glorification (12:16).
After Easter they were able to recall what had happened and find Biblical echoes in it, coming from Zechariah 9:9.
"Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion! Shout aloud, O daughter of 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."
Indeed, most of the narrative of Jesus' last days came about in this same manner. Psalm 22 was a major source of
understanding and interpretation, providing Jesus' cry, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me"; the
details about the mockery addressed to him, and also about the dividing and casting lots for his clothing.
Mark also wants us to know that while unaware that the Kingdom of God was already realized in their midst in the
person of Jesus, the pilgrims sang our lection Psalm 118, one of the Hallel Psalms used liturgically during Passover
and the Feast of Tabernacles. They sang in honor of the "coming king" and of his kingdom, with repeated
cries of "hosanna" which originally meant "save us."
But from what? For what? That is the important question for Mark, for he then describes Jesus himself entering
the temple, no crowd accompanying him there, surveying the situation, and leaving…much more quietly than he had
arrived.
If all we had to go by was the Gospel of Mark our memory of the events of this day would be very different. If
we imagine that the city stopped and everyone crowded to see the spectacle of Jesus' triumphal entry, we then have
to explain why there was no immediate intervention on the part of authorities. Hailing Jesus as Messiah would have
been dangerous and open to misunderstanding. Clearly the passion which follows is about one who was executed as
"King of the Jews," made to wear a crown of thorns, mocked and abused, set between other revolutionaries
and made the subject of barter with Barabbas. But nothing in his account of this day would warrant that.
Mark wants us to know that no one was anticipating that on Palm Sunday! No one had those expectations except in
hindsight, and no one was asking to be delivered from the very misconceptions that they at that moment held securely!
In the third of Isaiah's Servant Songs, written during the Babylonian Exile, we are given more clarification on
the vocation of God's servant, but we are never sure whether that servant is all of Israel, God's people, or a
single individual. We know that God has given "the servant" the ability to hear and speak a word to sustain
the weary, that "the servant" has been faithful and obedient even though that meant suffering persecution,
and that despite all circumstances to the contrary, "the servant" is confident and trusts God for vindication
and deliverance. Jesus appears to have identified closely with this passage, especially with the rejection and
suffering of "the servant."
In our Epistle for today, Paul says in amazement, Jesus gave it all up, humiliating himself as a slave obedient
to the point of suffering the utmost shame of crucifixion in total contrast to the glory and honor of divinity.
Commentator William Barclay writes: "There is no passage in the whole of the New Testament which so movingly
sets out the utter reality of the godhead and the manhood of Jesus Christ, and which makes so vivid the inconceivable
sacrifice that Christ made when he laid aside his divinity and took humanity upon himself. How it happened we cannot
tell. The end is mystery, but it is the mystery of a love so great that we can never fully understand it, although
we can blessedly experience it and adore it."
It is little wonder then that the disciples took time to grasp what was happening, in the life of Jesus and in
their own lives in the aftermath. When they told of Jesus' final days they imagined with the images of scripture.
For there was sacred story. Their traditional messianic hopes merged with memories and poetry of suffering in such
a way that the latter two are probably never to be untangled. Jesus suffered like the righteous of the psalms.
He is their hope, but in a sense that turns their expectations upside down. They come to know then that the one
whom God will raise from the dead is not the splendid hero, the valiant warrior, but the lowly one who seems least
suitable as the focus of human hope and expectation, and that is profoundly subversive of dominant cultural values.
For as such, he becomes the one who has no need to snatch at equality with God; nor to clutch at it, "as if
to hug it jealously to himself, and to refuse to let it go."
There are striking comparisons that link this event of the distant past to the present day. In our mind's eye we
watch as Jesus rides into the ancient city of Jerusalem, while before our eyes in images on screen and printed
page Coalition forces ride into the ancient city of Baghdad. We hear Jesus rode on a donkey and we are told that
people lined the streets waving palm branches. We see the Coalition forces ride into Baghdad on tanks and in truth
many people, who look not too different than those Biblical figures we imagined also waved palms. Both stories
involve much talk about being "delivered,"…"freed,"…even "saved."
The Gospels of Mark and John also teach us to be cynical about the popular show of support, yet both want us to
see the profoundly symbolic meanings within the event. In a sense such ambiguity is always present in the history
of all worshipping communities, regardless of the object of their homage. A far deeper truth is that someone will
always have to pay for our "freedom," some innocence will always be lost in order to get us "saved,"…and
we will be no doubt surprised to find what we have been "delivered" to.
Not very far from here, one can still gaze on the famous silver chalice of Antioch, now housed in the Metropolitan
Museum in New York. It has a highly decorative exterior lattice work in the form of a vine in which figures of
the Gospel authors are seated and a simple cup is enclosed. The chalice was found in the ruins of the great cathedral
in Antioch and tradition holds that the interior cup is the one used at the Last Supper.
Thomas Costain's novel "The Silver Chalice" told the fictitious story of how that chalice came into existence.
He suggests that the figure representing Mark is that of a water carrier which again tradition suggests may have
been Mark's employment. Ancient texts record that the Upper Room belonged to Mark's mother, who frequently provided
accommodation for Jesus and his disciples.
Perhaps the donkey's colt was also his. A donkey would have been a suitable beast of burden for a water carrier,
but that's not important enough of a detail for Mark to share. Any more than admitting that he was the young man
who ran away naked and in terror from the Garden of Gethsemane in chapter 14, verse 51, or perhaps was the one
who also met with complete calm and composure the women at the empty tomb in chapter 16 verse 5. Someone we have
always assumed to be an angel.
We know that he later was a terrible disappointment to Paul on the first missionary journey, and became the primary
reason for the breakup between the mission team of Paul and Barnabas in the 15th chapter of Acts when Mark wanted
to join them again and Paul refused to forgive him.
Forgiveness is true freedom and salvation. It is never easy, always costly, and in the end the one thing every
person needs.
Those are much harder images to focus on. Perhaps that is why so many won't be revisiting the story till next Sunday,
when in a sense we go from that which is billed as the victory parade to the chocolate Easter bunny resplendent
in the cellophane grass of the Easter basket.
One should always remember that such sweet delights are generally "hollow," and in the end not very nourishing.
May God save us…mostly from our own misconceptions!
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