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!”[a] “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.” 41 As he approached Jerusalem
and saw the city, he wept over it 42 and said, “If you, even you, had only
known on this day what would bring you peace—but now it is hidden from your
eyes. 43 The days will come upon you when your enemies will build an
embankment against you and encircle you and hem you in on every side.
44 They will dash you to the ground, you and the children within your
walls. They will not leave one stone on another, because you did not recognize
the time of God’s coming to you.” ~ Luke 19:28-44
[a] Psalm 118:26
Do you recognize allusions?
An allusion, of
course, is a symbolic action or literary device designed to call something to mind without
mentioning it explicitly. It’s often an indirect or passing reference
that aims to help us see deeper, to make more profound connections, to say
something powerful by playfully saying less (I know that’s ironic coming from
me – saying less is not something I often do.) “It’s often when a little bit of
one story joins onto an idea from another, and hey presto, . . . not old tales
but new ones” (Salman Rushdie). Not surprisingly, its etymology comes
from two latin words which literally mean “play with us.”
Some
allusions we know
“In
the war over eating right, the donut with sprinkles was his Achilles' heel.”
Some
we have forgotten
“We all have collectively decided to boycott this new
scheme started by our local government.”
Boycott is an allusion to an 1880 Irish political controversy between Captain
Charles Cunningham Boycott and his community, which shunned him.
Some are funny
In a
Simpsons’ episode called “Genesis Tub,” Bart’s sister Lisa tries to dissolve a
tooth in soda only to create a group of little people (hey, it’s a cartoon). At
one point, Lisa declares, “Wait, one of them is nailing something to the door
of the cathedral,” she gasps, “I’ve created Lutherans!” This is a historical
reference to Martin Luther nailing his “95 Theses” to the door of the Church.
If you don’t know the historical allusion, you miss the joke.
In our story today, the
prophetic allusion is not about donuts or Lutherans but all about a donkey (hence
our title for today’s sermon, which translates: "The donkey knows more than you!"). Notice that we aren’t given any specifics about
the two disciples – who they are, are they part of the twelve? – nor or we told
which village they are sent to – Bethphage? Bethany? or another?. All of this
contrasts with a detailed description of a colt or donkey.
1. The
colt is tied and must be untied (mentioned 5 times in our passage)
Vs. 30 “you will find tied there a
colt”
Vs. 30 “untie it and bring it here”
Vs. 31 “If anyone asks you, “Why are
you untying it?”
Vs. 33 “As they were untying the
colt”
Vs. 33 “Why are you untying the
colt?”
The allusion was a reference to Jacob’s blessing to Judah in
which a ruler over all the nations was to come (Genesis 49:10-11). 10 The scepter will not depart from Judah, nor the ruler’s staff from between his feet, until he to whom it
belongs shall come and the obedience of the nations
shall be his.11 He will tie his donkey to a vine, his colt to the choicest branch; he will
wash his garments in wine, his robes in the blood of
grapes.
2. But
there’s more. The colt Jesus rides has also “never been ridden.”
According to Zechariah, a messiah, a king, would come to
Jerusalem “humble and riding on a colt, the foal of a donkey (9:9). A foal, in
other words, would of course be unridden.
3. They
spread their garments on the road and quote Scripture.
The cloaks spread out on the ground signal their
understanding that Jesus is a king, the messiah, the promised one of God who
would bring God’s reign (2 Kings 9:12b-13) and then they shout a royal psalm,
Psalm 118, which details God’s steadfast love and his emissary who would bring “salvation.”
They quote vs. 26, “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.”
4. Jesus
enters through the gates of the city.
This is also a symbolic action. Jesus’ chosen route on a
donkey over the Mount of Olives, across Kidron, and up to the Temple Mount
spoke more powerfully than words could have of a royal claim. The geography was
unmistakably messianic. In fact, it was made even stronger by the allusion to Zechariah
14:4, in which God himself, it was said, would come and first stand on the
Mount of Olives before he brought victory. Moreover, entering into a city was
the sign of an already achieved victory.
5. Finally,
the ending of Jesus’ ride has Jesus weeping over Jerusalem
In numerous biblical citations, such as Jeremiah 9:1 (see also Lamentations, Psalms, etc.)
prophets wept over cities that failed to listen to and obey God, though Luke is
the only one to include this.
So why should we care if we get the allusions? All of these
allusions have everything to do with “recognizing . . . God’s coming” and
because Jesus’ warning speaks of real consequences, if we miss it. So how do we
go about recognizing God?
1. Recognizing God is all about reading Scripture.
And the Scripture points to Jesus.
So what Jesus does is prophesied. It’s God’s plan. And yet,
would you have caught the prophetic references, his acting out of Scripture?
Have you read carefully enough? Would you have recognized the visitation from
God? The allusion is plain, and I would argue, intentional on the part of
Jesus. This ride, his story, his coming to Jerusalem and what he will face is
what the Bible is truly about – from the prophecy in Genesis, the first book,
almost to its end (Zechariah is the second to last book of the OT). Do you have
plan for reading Scripture?
Jesus
regularly quotes, infers and acts out Scripture. If you don’t know it – you
won’t recognize him. (56 Club and Jesus’ statement, “I am.”). Scripture, in
other words, was Jesus’ field to play in. This means that Scripture is not an
end, in and of itself. It’s not some divine theory on everything but it’s chief
task is to point to Jesus, to help us recognize him. Scripture is Jesus’
“Wanted Poster”.
So
the Bible is not really a “how to” book that answers all our nagging questions
or make us successful in all our endeavors. It’s not a “How to” book but a “Here is the
One who” book. First and foremost it tells everyone: Here is who Jesus Christ
is and therefore here is who you are and need to become in relation to him. The
world is awash with “how to” books on every topic. The bible is not simply
another one of them, or even the original one that is divinely inspired. It is
the written revelation of God that points us to the true word, our salvation
(John 5:39-40). C.S. Lewis wrote, “It is Christ Himself, not the Bible who is
the true Word of God. The Bible, read in the right spirit, and with the
guidance of good teachers, will bring us to him.” The Bible doesn’t ride in on
the donkey, it doesn’t receive the praise of One who comes in the name of the
Lord, it is not our object of worship, but it does help us recognize him. And
he will help us read it, sort out what matters, what should continue and what
shouldn’t. But that can only happen if we look to him.
2. Biblically
literate people can still reject God. They can still make God weep.
I believe that the people saw most, if not all, of Jesus’
royal allusions. Yet, some of them they just couldn’t accept. They had to know
about the peaceable kingdom of Zechariah’s donkey rider but they simply
couldn’t believe it. They didn’t want to recognize what kind of king Zechariah
says will come:
“He will cut off the chariot from Ephraim and the war-horse
from Jerusalem; and the battle bow shall be cut off, and he shall command peace
to the nations (9:10).
This king, it was prophesied, wouldn’t so much make war as
end it. This king would destroy defense spending not enemies. And Psalm 118,
which the crowd uses to praise Jesus? Jesus had to know that that same Psalm
declared, “They surrounded me like bees; they blazed like a fire of thorns . .
. I was pushed hard, so that I was falling.” “The stone that the builders
rejected has become the chief cornerstone.” What is the rejection? They don’t
reject Jesus as king as long as he rules the way they wish him to by destroying
the Romans and returning Israel to her former glory. And truthfully there were
many texts that suggested just that. So reading “the Bible alone” is simply not
good enough. You also have to read it with Jesus in mind – to listen to him
carefully, to watch him observantly, to read it as a book about him. If they
had they would have realized that Jesus was a king who would subvert their
national narrative. He would not make Israel great again. He would reveal God
to be great by rejecting their militarism, their blood lust and by bringing
peace between all peoples (Jew and Gentile, Male and Female, Slave and Free, Immigrant
and Citizen). Jesus saw their rejection coming a mile away before that lonely
march toward Jerusalem. Earlier, in Luke 19:14 he will tell a story to his
disciples about a “nobleman” “hated” by the citizens of his own country who say,
‘We do not want this man to rule over us.’”
So Holy Week begins every year with this odd, beautiful,
painful dissonance that the one we praise is the one we so often reject. The one
we need is not the one we want. The one we worship is the one that we still
don’t understand. “Save us,” we say, “but don’t rule over us.” I want to end
the sermon by pointing out one last allusion – actually, the omission of one.
Did
you notice that for Luke this is NOT “Palm” Sunday? The laying down of palm
branches is the one thing he leaves out. Why? Luke omits them, scholars theorize,
because palm branches were the most poignant political symbol of the day having
marked the coins of former Israel. So maybe he omits them because they hearken
back to national narrative of favoritism, which said, “God loves us and will
destroy all our enemies – that is, all non-Jews.” Remember, Luke, tradition
tells us, was a gentile and the presence of palm branches would have reflected his
own rejection by Jesus’ followers. Or maybe it’s simply because they get this
part so incredibly wrong - Jesus’ kingdom is not of this world. This wasn’t
meant as a spiritual vs. material distinction but as a violence vs. peace one –
Jesus’ kingdom will not be about violence, political machinations and national
triumph. Maybe, Luke as he wrote this wept himself.
Palm Sunday reveals something often true about me. And this
story couldn’t come at a more auspicious time. For it reveals that there is
both violence and nonviolence in me, even though I don’t believe in both. I
love Jesus, praise him but maintain horrible inconsistencies. I don’t want
Jesus to ride anything like a donkey – I’d secretly like a tank. I don’t want a
cross I’d often prefer a smart bomb. I don’t want enemies forgiven or loved, I
want them wiped off the face of the earth. I don’t want salvation, I want shock
and awe. I don’t want a savior to save me from my sins, I want a politician to
save me from taxes, Isis, immigrants – basically everything else. And Jesus
warns me that rejecting his peace, his shalom – peace with God, peace with each
other, peace with the natural world, and peace with ourselves, by wanting a political
savior will only and always mean a horrific defeat.
Palm Sunday reminds us that all too often we worship and
praise rightly, read about and pray to correctly, a God that we simply just
don’t get or even want to. It exposes the myth that if we could see God crystal
clear we would do everything he says, want everything that he wants. And maybe
that acknowledgement: the laying down of our political illusions, confessing
our inconsistencies, our blind-spots, simply weeping, means that we finally can
recognize him, if only through a veil of tears.
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