Wondering with the Word: hosanna
A second procession begins - not in the West of Jerusalem but the East, through the back gate of the city as Jesus rode down from the Mount of Olives out of Bethany
Luke 19:28-40
28 After Jesus had said this, he went on ahead, going up to Jerusalem. 29 As he approached Bethphage and Bethany at the hill called the Mount of Olives, he sent two of his disciples, saying to them, 30 ‘Go to the village ahead of you, and as you enter it, you will find a colt tied there, which no one has ever ridden. Untie it and bring it here. 31 If anyone asks you, “Why are you untying it?” say, “The Lord needs it.”’
32 Those who were sent ahead went and found it just as he had told them. 33 As they were untying the colt, its owners asked them, ‘Why are you untying the colt?’
34 They replied, ‘The Lord needs it.’
35 They brought it to Jesus, threw their cloaks on the colt and put Jesus on it. 36 As he went along, people spread their cloaks on the road.
37 When he came near the place where the road goes down the Mount of Olives, the whole crowd of disciples began joyfully to praise God in loud voices for all the miracles they had seen:
38 ‘Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord!’ [Psalm 118:26]
‘Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!’
39 Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to Jesus, ‘Teacher, rebuke your disciples!’
40 ‘I tell you,’ he replied, ‘if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out.’
Who knew a coat could be subversive? It hadn’t occurred to me before that a coat could stand as such a symbol of resistance.
It may seem odd to us. We often have coats for different occasions: warmish but windy weather, winter coats, a light jacket or, as say in Wales, our big coat! And, in these days of fast fashion, it’s apparently not unusual to buy something, wear it once and then dump it or try to take it back to the shop.
We take coats for granted because, well, we all have them but, in Jesus’ day, a cloak was an important protective covering and most people would only have one.
They were so valued that the Jewish communities had a long-standing rule that if you sued someone to get them to repay a loan and took everything including their cloak, you had to return it to them each night so they wouldn’t freeze to death.
Think of your best coat. How willing would you be to put it on the ground, especially if it was to be ridden over? What if it is your only coat?
Why are we starting with coats this week? It’s certainly not the first symbol we think of for Palm Sunday. I can’t recall a single service where the congregation have spread their coats on the ground to mark Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem. Palm branches, yes. Paper coloured to look like a palm branch? Often. But our coats? Our Sunday coats!!
Perhaps it’s because we’ve heard the story of what’s called the triumphal entry into Jerusalem a few too many times and we think we know what it’s about.
Surely it’s the crowd hailing Jesus as Messiah and some people got a bit carried away trying to create a red carpet for him. No, it’s much more powerful than that.
Matthew doesn’t tell us that all of these events happened around the Passover Festival but it almost certainly was and the Gospel of John frames all of what happens in Jesus’ final week within the Passover festival.
The crowds would have swollen to many times the normal population - possibly 200,000 people - and the occupying Romans would have posted extra troops on the streets.
Passover, after all, celebrates Israel’s deliverance from captivity, and occasional outbreaks of sedition attended the season. This meant that Passover season brought crowded and somewhat tense conditions.
Parades and demonstrations of power by Rome were not unusual: soldiers on horseback supporting the emperor; troops holding back the crowds; shouting, cheering. You get the picture.
When these happened, the procession would start at the Western entrance to the city - a demonstration of Imperial power and a warning to the citizens not to get any clever ideas of rebellion.
They marched into the city with calvary, chariots, foot soldiers, leather armour, metal helmets, and spears. The emperor or ruler would bring up the rear with golden eagles mounted on poles and Roman banners waving around him. He shows off the empire’s power to a turbulent Jerusalem.
But more than that the display of power would also illustrate Roman theology. Roman emperors were considered deities, born from the god Apollo. They carried divine titles such as ‘son of God,’ ‘lord’ and ‘saviour’ one who had brought 'peace on earth.’ A Roman procession reflected what peace and salvation looked like to Rome.
And there was a way to placate the gods. Citizens would spread fine cloths on couches and put them in the streets to make the gods welcome.
You get the picture? But while people were subjected to a display of Roman power a second procession begins - not in the West of Jerusalem but the East, through the back gate of the city as Jesus rode down from the Mount of Olives out of Bethany.
Get your coats ready because Jesus is coming into the city alone, riding on a donkey rather than the Emperor’s warhorse. As he does this, the crowds welcome him as Messiah: God’s rescuer.
Pilate’s procession embodied the power, glory, and violence of the empire that ruled the known world.
Jesus brought an alternate vision of the Kingdom of God.
Matthew tells us the crowd hailed Jesus as the Son of David in fulfilment of prophecy, a theme which is Matthew’s constant underpinning of his story. He quotes the Old Testament book of Zecariah:
Say to Daughter Zion,
‘See, your king comes to you,
gentle and riding on a donkey,
and on a colt, the foal of a donkey.’ (Zech 9: 9)
New Testament Professor Greg Carey on the Working Preacher blog says we need to understand the triumphal entry in this context: he says Jesus is entering Jerusalem as King and knowingly initiating conflict.
Not so much gentle Jesus meek and mild.
Carey says that while Matthew focuses the action on Jesus as if his actions disrupted the entire city and everyone could see what he was doing, that could not be the case. Ancient Jerusalem, with its grand temple, was far too large and its streets too narrow for even a processional parade and a Temple demonstration to gain more than street-level attention.
However it is Jesus who initiates the action, Jesus whom the crowds acclaim, and Jesus for whom the priests and elders are waiting the next day (Matt 21:23).
Carey adds: ‘Indeed, Jesus is not innocent victim -- at least, not in the sense of being passive. Having condemned corruption in the Temple, he initiates hostilities with the Temple authorities (21:46) … He does not come with weapons or armies, although he does bring crowds. He is David’s Son, come to claim his throne. The question for Matthew’s readers and hearers is: now that we have acclaimed Jesus along with the crowds and the children, will we continue in this way as conflict escalates?’
The symbolism then of coats and cloaks is one of personal identification with the one who rides in over them. Who do we serve? The one for whom we make way. And what do we call out? The crowd here are shouting:
‘Hosanna to the Son of David!’
‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!’
‘Hosanna in the highest heaven!’
They are hailing a Saviour. Hosanna is not a cheer, it’s a plea for help, for someone to save us.
As Jesus is surrounded on all sides, mirroring the phalanx of soldiers who would have surrounded a Roman conquering hero, the cry goes up: ‘Save us. In God’s name, save us!’
What do we cry ‘hosanna’ over? What is our declaration in this difficult days? The question is, ‘who am I for this week?’
What is the contemporary version for you of laying a coat on the muddy ground for Jesus to ride over? Where can my prayers and grace-full actions open the way for Christ to be known by my neighbours?
Lord, save us! Hosanna! Amen.