The Stones Would Cry Out (A Palm Sunday Sermon)

(Scriptures: Isaiah 50:4-9a, Psalm 118:1-2, 19-29
Philippians 2:5-11 Luke 19:28-40)

Today we celebrate Palm Sunday, and begin our Holy Week pilgrimage with Jesus to the cross. For the season of Lent, we have walked with Jesus through his earthly ministry, as he taught and healed and fed the multitudes. We have walked with Jesus as he was both adored and misunderstood by the crowds, and as he aroused both curiosity and rejection among the religious authorities. Today we begin the Holy Week journey: from the acclamation of the crowds to the plotting of the religious authorities, to a last supper with his followers, the betrayal by Judas, the desertion of the disciples, and the final walk to Golgotha. And as we look on Palm Sunday from our perspective, we see multiple layers of meaning and experience mixed emotions. The week begins with a parade, but we know there’s another type of procession coming on Friday.

This year’s Gospel for Palm Sunday comes from the Gospel according to Luke. Each of the Gospel writers tells the story of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem slightly differently, and Luke is no exception. One notable thing about Luke’s story of what we call Palm Sunday – there are no palm branches, but rather some among the crowds spreading their cloaks on the road as Jesus rode along, and the multitude of the disciples – not the crowds – shouting “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord!” Luke paints a somewhat ambiguous picture of the reaction of the crowds to Jesus’ entry to the city – the disciples are enthusiastic, as are some among the crowds, but we also hear the voices of some Pharisees in the crowd, telling the disciples to pipe down. Jesus’ response to the Pharisees: if my disciples were quiet, even the stones themselves would cry out.

In Luke’s gospel, unlike those of Matthew and Mark, the story of Palm Sunday is immediately preceded by Jesus’ parable of the ten pounds, with its story of a nobleman leaving ten pounds in the hands of his ten servants, going to a distant country to be crowned king, and then after some time returning to learn what his servants had done with the money with which they’d been entrusted. Luke tells us that Jesus told this parable because the disciples thought the kingdom of God was to appear immediately, and Jesus was trying to tamp down their expectations of instant glory. From the disciples’ behavior, it appears they didn’t quite get the hint.

But then again, in every way, Jesus both fulfills Scripture and at the same time confounds and turns upside-down human ideas of glory. Jesus began his donkey ride from the Mount of Olives, where Zechariah 14:4 says that the Lord will stand when he rescues his people. The Old Testament book of Zechariah chapter 9 contains these words: “Rejoice greatly, O daughter Zion! Shout aloud, O daughter Jerusalem! Lo, your king comes to you, triumphant and victorious is he, humble and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.” Jesus’ supporters among the crowds got the “triumphant and victorious” part, but skipped right over the “humble” part. For the kingly authority of Jesus is very different from the domination system of political oppression and economic exploitation – all blessed by the religious establishment - that characterized the world of Jesus, where might made right, where most of the wealth was concentrated in the hands of a very few, and the poor were ground into the dust. Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem, like his entire life, was a rebuke to the domination system. Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan, in their book about Passion Week, titled “The Last Week”, paint a picture of two processions going on at roughly the same time. From the West, Pontius Pilate confidently riding into the city on a mighty war horse in all his imperial glory, surrounded by heavily-armed soldiers; from the East, Jesus humbly riding in on a donkey barely big enough for Jesus to avoid dragging his feet along in the ground, surrounded by a small band of noisy rabble. Jesus’ response to the rebuke of the Pharisees – if my disciples were quiet, the stones would cry out – is an echo of Habakkuk chapter 2:11, which also talks about the stones crying out – but in Habakkuk, the stones are crying out against the exploitation of the poor. And, indeed, our reading is followed by Jesus’ lament over Jerusalem, “If you, even you, had only recognized on this day the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes.” So our reading from Luke is dense with layers of meaning.

From our perspective, we know what the rest of the week holds – escalating conflict with both the religious and political establishment, a final Passover meal with his disciples, betrayal in the garden, a hasty, unjust trial, and the cruel death of the cross. The week that begins with Jesus saying that, were his disciples silent, the stones would cry out; will later have the sun turning away its light from the horror of the crucifixion. We cannot get to Easter except through Good Friday, when human sin and the powers of darkness do their worst, submitting the Savior of the World to the cruel, shameful, degrading death of the cross, over his head the ironic title, “The King of the Jews” – a warning to all passersby who would oppose the mighty power of Rome.

Today, some 2000 years later, we still live in a world where all too often, might makes right, money talks with a very loud voice, and the things that make for peace are still hidden from our eyes. We still live in a world so unjust that it’s a wonder that the stones themselves don’t cry out, and all too often those who work for justice are crushed to the ground. And in our individual lives, in our moments of challenge and loss, hope may sometimes desert us. We may be tempted to give into despair. But God has promised that he will never leave us nor forsake us. Through the darkest night, God is working God’s purpose out, for us and for his kingdom. If we are faithful to God’s call, we’ll find that each of us has a cross to bear. We still live, all too often, in a Good Friday world……but Sunday’s coming. Amen.