Dear friends,
With the celebration of Pentecost last Sunday we are officially through the Easter season. But the last few days I’ve been thinking about Palm Sunday and Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem for the last week of his life.
We typically think of that entry as a triumphant and joyful event as people welcome Jesus into the holiest of cities. But scholars Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan have a different interpretation of that day. They believe Jesus’ procession was not a parade of triumph, but instead was a political farce mocking the Roman Empire, which occupied Jerusalem and the surrounding areas.
During the week of Passover, thousands of Jews poured into Jerusalem to celebrate God’s liberation of their ancestors from slavery and oppression by the Egyptians, a celebration that made the rulers of the present-day empire very nervous.
To remind the Jews who was in charge, Roman governor Pontius Pilate set up camp in Jerusalem that week, arriving in town in a military procession that Crossan describes as “a visual panoply of imperial power: Calvary on horses, foot soldiers, leather armor, helmets, weapons, banners, golden eagles mounted on poles, sun glinting on metal and gold. There was the sound of marching feet, the creaking of leather, the clinking of bridles, the beating of drums.”
The message of this procession of might was clear. Rome had the power and would not hesitate to use it. Don’t cause any trouble, Pilate’s procession warned.
Across town on the same day another procession entered Jerusalem.
The leader of this procession was not a mighty Roman governor, but a lowly Jewish peasant. He rode not on a stallion prepared for war, but on a nursing donkey, with its foal trotting along beside her. The leader of this procession was accompanied not by a column of soldiers in an impressive display of military might, but by a group of peasants who spread their threadbare cloaks before him and waved palm fronds and shouted “Hosanna,” which means “Save us now.”
In essence, Jesus is saying that the emperor has no clothes.
Pilate’s procession embodied the power, glory, and violence of the empire that ruled the world.
Jesus’ procession embodied an alternative vision, that of the kingdom of God, a world where God’s justice reigns; a world where no one is in need; a world where even those who are outcast or on the margins of society are welcomed and cared for; a world of peace, where swords are beaten into plowshares.
This weekend the scenes from that long ago Palm Sunday will play out across our nation.
In Washington DC the full power of empire will be on display in a birthday salute to Donald Trump.
The $45 million spectacle will include 6,000 soldiers, 50 aircraft, 150 military vehicles, and bands playing patriotic music. This parade of tanks rolling down the streets of our nation’s capital, with military aircraft flying overhead, and soldiers armed for battle is all designed to show off this empire’s military might. The message of this procession is clear. Trump has the power and will not hesitate to use it, even against his own citizens, as we have seen in Los Angeles this week.
But Trump’s display of military power is not the only game in town on Saturday. Across the country more than 1,800 peaceful protests are planned, including several in the Atlanta area.
The only power on display at these gatherings will be the power of the people to stand against the emperor and for those the empire deems undesirable — immigrants, people of color, Jews and Muslims, the LGBTQ community, the poor and disenfranchised. These are the people who would have been part of Jesus’ procession on that long ago Palm Sunday.
Writer David Henson suggests that if we really want to follow Jesus, then we, too, must publicly stand against oppression, even when, and especially when, it comes from our own government. “Protest the imperial powers that strip us of our rights, of our dignity, of our voice. Laugh in the face of those who seriously think they can own humanity’s future,” he says.
The kingdom of God versus the domination of empire. The issues that Jesus confronted 2,000 years ago continue to confront us today. We still live in a world ruled by empire, longing for the kingdom of God to break through, for God’s justice and peace to be established on earth.
Borg and Crossan end their writing about Palm Sunday with questions that are pointedly relevant for us to consider this week. “Two processions entered Jerusalem,” they write. “The same questions, the same alternatives, face those who would be faithful to Jesus today.
“Which procession are we in? Which procession do we want to be in?”
Which side are we on?
With love,
Tricia
No King protests in the Atlanta area include:
- Liberty Plaza (across from the Capitol) from 10 a.m.-Noon
- Marietta at the intersection of Johnson Ferry and Roswell Road, 2-3:30 p.m.
- Brookhaven at the intersection of Club Drive and Peachtree Road, 10-11 a.m. Note that many St. Dunstan’s parishioners plan to attend at this site
‘Which Side Are You On?’ is a song written by Florence Reece in 1931. Reece was the wife of Sam Reece, a union organizer for the United Mine Workers in Harlan County, Kentucky. In 1931, the miners of that region were locked in a bitter and violent struggle with the mine owners called the Harlan County War. In an attempt to intimidate the Reece family, Sheriff J. H. Blair and his men (hired by the mining company) illegally entered their family home in search of Sam Reece. Sam had been warned in advance and escaped, but Florence and their children were terrorized in his place. That night, after the men had gone, Florence wrote the lyrics to ‘Which Side Are You On?’ on a calendar that hung in the kitchen of her home. She took the melody from a traditional Baptist hymn, ‘Lay the Lily Low’, or the traditional ballad ‘Jack Munro’ (or Jackaroe). “Which Side Are You On?” has become one of the nation’s most well-known protest songs. Reece’s lyrics are often rewritten to fit the occasion.