worship this Sunday…

A number of years ago, we were fortunate enough to visit Italy and, in particular, Rome. As you may know, Rome (while obviously a large modern city) also has an older area where the buildings and structures from its days as the heart of an empire are still densely packed. For instance, you can walk from the Colosseum to where the Apostle Paul preached and where Julius Caesar was assassinated in just a matter of minutes. As you walk and look around, the signs of a far-reaching and historic Empire are everywhere.

But there is nowhere more compact than a spot known as the Forum, or the excavated ruins of the heart of the city at the peak of its power and reach in the world. The Forum has building after building, arch after arch, and monument after monument, all celebrating the power of the Roman Empire and the Caesars who ruled it. And at first, as you walk and marvel at their size and scope, it doesn’t take long to begin to realize the sheer amount of violence, oppression, and pain that is being celebrated by these marvels of empire. One, in particular, (in fact, the first arch you see as you enter) is the Arch of Titus, built to celebrate the conquest and sacking of Jerusalem in 70 A.D. Roman centurions are depicted celebrating the conquest as they carry parts of the temple of Jerusalem back to Rome; specifically, they are holding a menorah and other religious objects. 

Then, it hits you. Although we are dispassionate and marveling at the artistry and scope of these structures, they are built on violence and pain. They are built on greed and to celebrate the death of those from Judea. It’s a shocking moment which carries a touch of shame—we are tourists of disaster and conquest of the Jewish people while planning our next carb-heavy meal on vacation. No one notices, of course. No one calls out to us, but the truth remains… in a microcosm, we’ve again been seduced by the grandeur of empire. 

Our passage this week locates Jesus just in that same moment with his disciples. They approach the edge of Jerusalem, and his popular power swells with the numbers of people who come to celebrate him, and the implication seems clear… the empire is his if he wants it. But as it does, he calls the attention of his disciples to the hidden truth of the empire—it is built on threats and violence, and that is not his Kingship. His approach is different, which means the empire won’t recognize him… except as a threat. This means his revelation of his divinity and lordship will occur only in contrast to the empire's ways—violence, power, and oppression. But for those who watch, they will see his glory in contrast to those things.

This Sunday is Palm Sunday, and it is the most political of days for the church. It’s not politics, though in the way you might imagine (or fear), but it is a Sunday where our Scripture forces us to view the power of Empire in our world today. Where is there still the temptation of power and might around us? Where is it still inside of us? Where have we grown quietly complacent because of the grandeur of what pain and violence build, rather than declaring we follow a different Lord? These are the questions for this Sunday and, as is true, they also lead to Holy Week.

Matthew 21: 1-13, 26:3

When they had come near Jerusalem and had reached Bethphage, at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them, ‘Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her; untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, just say this, “The Lord needs them.” And he will send them immediately.’* This took place to fulfil what had been spoken through the prophet, saying, ‘Tell the daughter of Zion, Look, your king is coming to you, humble, and mounted on a donkey, and on a colt, the foal of a donkey.’ The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them; they brought the donkey and the colt, and put their cloaks on them, and he sat on them. A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. The crowds that went ahead of him and that followed were shouting, ‘Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest heaven!’ When he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil, asking, ‘Who is this?’ The crowds were saying, ‘This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee.’

Then Jesus entered the temple* and drove out all who were selling and buying in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the money-changers and the seats of those who sold doves. He said to them, ‘It is written, “My house shall be called a house of prayer”;   but you are making it a den of robbers.’

Then the chief priests and the elders of the people gathered in the palace of the high priest, who was called Caiaphas, and they conspired to arrest Jesus by stealth and kill him.