Spontaneous Coronation – A Cross or a Crown

I have a Palm Sunday memory I shall cherish to my dying day. When I was a child of about eight, a little girl of about my age died in the little French Catholic town of Orleans about 20 miles from our house. As she was being buried, so it was reported, those who stood by the graveside felt a miracle power emanating from the casket of little Maria. People who are suffering from various maladies felt themselves suddenly healed. The aged in the crowd felt their tired old body suddenly renewed. 

Soon the news spread to the surrounding area. It hit Ottawa papers the day before Palm Sunday. Out of curiosity, our family decided to go see for ourselves early on Palm Sunday, planning to get back in plenty of time to go to church. We made the trip in our old Maxwell touring car. It was a beautiful morning with the trees in full blossom. 

As we arrived at the Cemetery, the grave was not hard to spot. It was surrounded by the lame, the sick and those weak with age and their families. Some knelt and some kissed the gravestone. Others were just milling around. Even these would genuflect every now and then.

We arrived at the moment just when the traditional Palm Sunday procession was coming headed for the large spired church in the center of the town. By the time the procession reached the Cemetery, we too were standing by the grave. At the head of the procession, the Christ figure rode bumpily on his little donkey. He was a young French youth with black wavy hair, dressed in a Royal purple robe, with a neat beard grown for the occasion. 

Behind him marched the town folk, young and old, waving their palm branches and shouting in French, “Hosanna, Hosanna bless it is he who comes in the name of the Lord.” 

As they passed the Cemetery, the parish priest who had the donkey by the bridle suddenly stopped the procession. The Christ figure dismounted, walked over to the grave and stood in reverence for a moment with head bowed. Then, he raised his hand and made the sign of the cross. The crowd shouted, “Hosanna, bless it is he who comes in the name of the Lord.” And, as he mounted and rode away, some of the lame threw away their crotches and tried to walk. Some of the sick believed they had felt the miracle power. Some even ran out and threw their coats down in the path of the donkey. I do not remember feeling any miracle power, but the story and the drama of the Palm Sunday was imprinted in the mind of one eight-year old, so that he has never forgotten it. For him, there is a magic and a mystery in the story that must be experienced to be understood. 

This year as I reread the Palm Sunday story, my heartbeat rises, and that 8 year old boy’s memory is relived once again with all its magic and power. During my mature years now, details have been filled into the story, and new insights have enriched it. But. I can never lose the magic and the miracle of that Palm Sunday experience of so many years ago.

This year, we have been doing a comparative study of the gospel narratives of Matthew, Mark and Luke. It is interesting to compare the three narratives. Each has its own unique additions and innovations for the story. This morning, I will focus on the story according to Matthew. Matthew begins with the mother of the disciples James and John kneeling at the feet of Jesus to make her request. Jesus asks, “What do you want?” 

“Command that these two sons of mine may sit one at your right hand and the other at your left in your Kingdom.”

Jesus seems to turn to the sons to make his reply (indeed Mark has the two sons make the request in the first place). “You do not know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the Cup that I am to drink?” 

They said to him, “We are able!” 

He answered, “you will drink my Cup – but to sit at my right hand or at my left is not mine to give, but it is for those for whom it is prepared by my father!”

The other disciples, who heard this, were indignant at the effrontery of this request made by two of their number. 

Jesus then turned and talked to the disciples about the power of structures. It seems to be the nature of society that there are Lords and rulers who rule – and there are peons and slaves who serve among the people. There are always those who have to be number one, with the cost being slavery, impoverishment and servitude for others.

Then he says, “It is not to be so among you. Whoever is great among you must be your servant – and whoever is first among you must be your slave. Even as the true human being came not to be served, but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.”

In all the gospels, this is followed by the healing of the Blind Bartimaeus. But Matthew has one notable addition to this story. Behold, there are two blind men sitting by the roadside when Jesus passed. They cried out, “Have mercy on us son of David.” The crowd tried to shut them up, but they would not be silenced. They cried once more, “Have mercy on us Son of David!” Jesus stopped and asked, “What do you want me to do for you?” They said to him, “Lord let our eyes be opened!” Jesus touched their eyes. Immediately they saw again and followed him. 

Was this a parable? Is that why Matthew has two men? Who were the blind men, James and John? Did they really need to see again? Did they need to see to know what the Kingdom was all about? 

Then Jesus sent two disciples to find a donkey and a colt. Who did he send? Was it perhaps the two had just received their sight? You must send someone who could see? The donkey was the animal that Kings employed in their Coronation. (Ironically, Jesus would be crowned king at his Crucifixion.)

Jesus was seated on the pack animal, also, to symbolize in the servanthood of the human being, the true human one who took our weaknesses and carried our disease. He is welcomed by a “very large” crowd, the only time Matthew uses the term, “very large.” They honor him by casting branches in the way and acknowledging him Jubilee as the son of David.

The goal of Jesus is to enter the temple. Without hesitation, once in the temple, he begins to drive out those who are selling and buying, not as an act of cleansing, but of judgment. This action is also a rejection of the typology of David. Instead of expelling the blind and the lame and the old, whom David hated and would not let in the temple, Jesus permits the blind and the lame to appear in the temple, and he heals him. In the temple, the blind see in the lame walk. The die of the Messiah is cast. He is the servant Lord. At that moment ,the children cry out: “Hosanna to the son of David!”

The Scribes and the Pharisees are indignant. He is supposed to silence the children, but he refused. Jesus said to them, have you never read, “Out Of the mouths of the babes and sucklings thou hast brought perfect praise.”

Then, he came to the fig tree and found no fruit. He cursed the fig tree and it withered and died. The fig tree like the temple, did not produce the fruit it was supposed to produce. Temple too stood under his judgment. 

The story all fits together. Two brothers wanting the choice seats in the Kingdom stand blind and rebuked. Temple Lords exercise authority, enslaving the people. These all stand under the judgment of the human one, who came not to be ministered to but to minister.

Now we must look at the Palm Sunday story in the light of our own history. If Jesus were to begin his Palm Sunday march today, where would he begin? To which city would Jesus march? Which temple would he go to to begin his judgment?  

Perhaps, we are the people of all the peoples of the world who feel we have the right to sit on the right hand and the left. Perhaps he would March into Washington DC, for the corruption of the last few years and speak of a nation who seeks to be number one, drunk with power, running its crooked carnival show with its Watergates and its Koreagates. He would point the finger at the President, who ran on the ticket to cut the waste of defense spending, and a year later talks of more-and-more defense spending, for he must be Lord and Number One in armaments. 

At this point in my preparation our Assistant Pastor, Leo, stuck his head in my study. I asked him, “Where do you think Christ would March to on Palm Sunday if he came to our country?” He said, “Probably right down 139th Street and stop at our church on the corner of Mill Street.” 

Do we come into our church to be ministered to? Is this the place where we are in the “In Group” at the right hand and the left hand?

Perhaps there would be much celebrating. He would see the hungry coming to be fed­­­, the naked to be clothed, the sick to be healed and the weak to be empowered. It may be that your life and mine would be the fig tree, where Jesus comes to pick the fruits of the Kingdom? Would he find the self-giving love of the servant? Which donkey are you and I riding on? The Coronation donkey that leads to the self-aggrandizement, bigger houses, more things and creature comforts, and our own little church with such nice people. 

Or, are we riding the lowly pack animal, which is carrying us into our servanthood and into the Kingdom of our Christ? Can we say with him: “The Spirit Of the Lord is upon me, for he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind and to set at Liberty those who are oppressed, and to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord.”

As we walk into our city will the little children shout, “Hosanna blessed is she-he who comes in the name of the Lord. My mother, the woman who scrubbed our floors, filled are cupboards, dressed our children, and took us all to church and sat with us in the same Pew. “Hosanna, blessed is she who comes in the name of the Lord.”