Palm Sunday of the Passion of Our Lord

In my life, I have been to exactly two protest marches. Causes I cared about enough to actually show up to a rally of some kind or another. As I recall, they were pretty low-key events. There was some singing, a few signs and banners. After a while, we all went home. I remember wondering  what, if any, difference we had made, but I was thankful for the opportunity and freedom to speak my mind and stand with others who also cared deeply about these issues.

Today,  Christians throughout the world begin the great and holy week which culminates in the central celebration of our Christian faith: the Lord Jesus’ atonement-by-crucifixion and his glorious passage from death to new life. Today’s reading of the Messiah’s passion as recorded in St. Luke sets forth the central act of God’s self-revealing love for humankind.

This is echoed in the second lesson, from Paul’s letter to the Philippians: Christ, though equal to God, does not count that status as something to grab and hold, but instead gives himself to death on the cross, in our form, in our likeness. He takes on our sin, paying its price in his own blood, and giving to us his everlasting righteousness, innocence and blessedness.

Again and again today we hear the great paradox of our faith: Christ is proclaimed the mighty King who reigns, not by way of the so-called “triumphal entry,” but from the cruciform tree of life, the Cross. He is the Son of the God of the universe--who takes the form of a slave. The crowds shout Hosanna! Lord save us! And he does so, but not with an army or worldly power. The crowds wave palms—a symbol of majesty and victory—yet Jesus’ crown is made of thorns and his victory sure looks like losing: losing his disciples, losing his freedom, losing his life.

Riding on a peaceful donkey instead of a war horse, Jesus the Messiah- King approaches Jerusalem, the ancient capital of the great King David. But instead of ascending the throne of David as the new Solomon, Jesus reigns from the cross. It is no palace where King Jesus has his throne, but a bare hill, a garbage dump called the Place of the Skull, outside his city’s walls. He is mocked, humiliated, abandoned. Flanked by criminals who are also being executed. Jesus tells one of them, “Today you will be with me in paradise.” Paradise—in a landfill.

And yet that is exactly right: the Kingdom of God in the middle of trash.  I told you that I’ve attended two protests in my life. But by a different count, I’ve attended 54 more. Every procession of palms is, in fact, a protest march. Probably the most important one I’ll ever be at. Today we make a public witness. We stand shoulder to shoulder with Christians all over the world to say, in the words of Handel’s Messiah,  “the kingdom of this world is become the kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ. And he shall reign forever and ever.” On this day, we explicitly state that Christian allegiance is to “the kingdom of our Lord,” and not to “the kingdoms of this world.” Christian loyalty is to this King of the Jews, not to Caesar.

And what’s more, this is not a political preference, to be voted in or out on the whim of the crowd, or in a popularity contest. No—he shall reign forever and ever. Not as the world thinks. Nor surrounded by toadies and yes-men. Not wielding the power the world covets and celebrates. But with humility, weakness, emptying himself out of love, taking the form of a servant, obedient even to his death. The God-man came to give, not take; to serve, and not be served.

And in that giving, that serving, he trades his glory for our ugliness. He exchanges his treasure for our trash. He lays down his life against our violence. He becomes us, so that we might become him. All humanity—with its sores and wounds and twisted souls and barren lives and evil-infested pasts; with all our garbage and our baggage—he became all that, so that humanity might become, in him, resplendent in the eyes of the Father.

For the Lord God omnipotent reigneth. King of kings and Lord of Lords.

Forever and ever. And ever and ever.

Even the very stones shout it out: “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest heaven! Amen.”