Loading...We’ve been reading and discussing Amy-Jill Levine’s book, Entering the Passion of Jesus, at our Monday morning Bible and Book study. Amy-Jill Levine is a Jewish professor of New Testament and Jewish Studies at Vanderbilt Divinity School. She is a renowned author, scholar, and teacher who brings a valuable Jewish perspective to the New Testament.
This past Monday, as we discussed the stories of the named and unnamed women who anointed Jesus with expensive perfume, we were asked a question that made us all think. “How would you tell the story of Jesus, particularly the story of these last days of his life?”
I’m going to let you sit with that question for a moment.
It’s easy to reflect on our knowledge of scripture to recite the story. We’ve heard it so many times, haven’t we? Jesus comes into Jerusalem and people celebrate his entrance on a donkey, or maybe a horse. He has some time with his friends, washes their feet, eats a special meal, goes to a garden to pray, is arrested, beat, ridiculed, tried and found guilty by the crowd, is condemned to death, carries his literal cross to the place where he is crucified—where he is lynched, dies, and is taken from the cross to a tomb where he will lay for a few days before he is miraculously resurrected.
Easy peasy, right? I mean, that’s the gist of the story. But what does it MEAN? Why did it happen? How does it make us feel?
I’m going to let you sit with those questions for a beat…
The gist of the story, the high-level recitation of it all is a good reminder of these last days of Christ’s life, but the story is so much bigger…
Jesus rides into Jerusalem on a beast of burden. A donkey or a horse. The significance is important. Only leaders, kings, or people with power come into the city in this way. The people gathered on the narrow street from the Mount of Olives into Jerusalem know that Jesus is coming, somehow having been made aware that he is entering from one side of Jerusalem as Pilate, the agent of Rome, is doing the same from the opposite side. By entering this way, Jesus is creating or strengthening the uprising of citizens against the Roman occupation. The people who are waving branches and shouting “Hosanna!” are protesting the government.
Shouting “Hosanna!” would be the same as saying in English, “Save us now!” “Save us now!” These are words shouted by people who have been oppressed by a government that has taken over their city. These people were hoping that with his entrance into Jerusalem on a donkey (or a horse) meant that he was bringing an army behind him to begin an armed conflict between the Hebrew people and the Romans. They were hoping for something different than what Jesus was coming to accomplish.
It makes me wonder what we were saying or implying when we waved our palm branches and cried out “Hosanna!” “Hosanna!” when we followed the cross into the church this morning.
From what might we be asking Jesus to save us?
For the rest of the week, Jesus spends time with friends, with disciples, with a variety of people who have become his followers. Not an army of people carrying weapons to incite violence in Jerusalem. Rather people who had encountered Jesus in these past few years and found his message of love to be profound and needed in a time of unrest and fear.
Could we, then, be shouting “Save us now!” because we also need this message of love to protect us and save us from our own unrest and fear?
God sent Jesus into the world to show us that respecting the dignity of one another through relationship and compassion were the ways to heal the world. And we are reminded of who Jesus was and is on the evening of the Last Supper, which we will remember with our Maundy service on Thursday night at 7:00, when we will wash one another’s feet.
When we kneel at the feet of our friends and take their feet in our hands, we are in a posture of service. When we gently wash and massage their feet, while in prayer, we express humility and compassion as we respect the dignity of the other person.
We become vulnerable when we remove our shoes and socks to receive this expression of love in a way that shows God that we are willing to be exposed to that divine love as offered by the person willing to hold our feet in this way.
So much happens that night. Each and every part of this evening is an expression of God’s love for God’s people. A dinner is served where Jesus teaches us the importance of sharing bread and wine with the remembrance of him. We continue that humble feast each time we share in the eucharist, the thanksgiving meal, that brings our attention, our focus back to Jesus.
The part that we don’t always talk about in this holy, holy week is what is called the “Farewell Discourse.” The author of John’s Gospel takes pages and pages in his telling of this story to help us know what Jesus told those in that room that night.
It is a discourse filled with instruction on what to do and how to be as followers of this movement.
And then, it becomes a prayer to God about these people, about their coming journey, about their responsibility, and it is also for those to come, like us, who choose to live their lives in ways that fulfill God’s purpose for humanity.
It is a reminder, dear ones, of the depth of God’s love for this creation. It is a reminder of what we are called to be. It is a prayer that we can uphold the deep love of God as we treat others and all of creation with care, safety, humility, grace, compassion, and love.
This is a week filled with complex emotions. Of course it is. We know what is coming. We know that the death on the cross is a brutal response to the life of the person we worship. We can struggle with how we respond to shouting in worship both “Hosanna!” (Save us now!) and “Crucify him!” all in the same day. And we may believe that our cries of Hosanna are met with that crucifixion, struggling mightily with those cold days in the tomb, and still be mesmerized by the miracle of the resurrection next Sunday.
All this is true. All this is real. All this is understandable.
Yet, in the midst of all the pain and suffering we read about this week, the story of this holy week should be understood as an act of love. In every single thing that happens, Jesus continues to teach us what God sent him to teach. He gives us, in this week, the two greatest commandments: to love God and to love one another as God loves us.
Love rode into Jerusalem on a donkey, or maybe a horse, gathering God’s people into a deeper understanding of God. And as the week progressed, that love was professed in words and actions, culminating with the brutal murder of Love, leaving so many people asking why and wondering what they were to do next.
Those are stories for another day, but stories, nonetheless, that we need to help us walk this journey with Jesus each and every week. Our confusion, our doubts, our questions are important, and they are valuable. At the same time, they are wrapped in the love of God, blanketing us with the hope and confidence that Love wins.
Be present with your responses to the story this week. Feel your emotions. Read the Gospel stories. Of any week in the year, this is a week to contemplate, to pray, to study, and to listen to how Jesus teaches you to be God’s people.
Amen.
