Palm Sunday
Matthew 21: 1-11
And they
approached Jerusalem and came to Bethphage by the Mount of Olives. Then Jesus
sent two disciples ahead and said to them, “Go to the village which you see
before you, and at once you will find a donkey tied there and her foal with
her. Untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, tell him
that the Lord needs them, and he will let you take them right away.”
This took place to fulfill what was spoken through the prophet:
‘Say to the daughter of Zion,
Behold, your king comes to you in majesty.
Gentle is He, and He rides on a donkey and on a foal of the beast of
burden.’
The disciples went and did as Jesus had instructed them. They brought
the donkey and the foal, placed their garments on them, and Jesus sat on them.
Many out of the large crowd spread their clothes on
the road, while others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road.
The crowds that went ahead of them and followed Him shouted:
Hosanna to the Son of David!
Blessed is he who comes in the Name and Power of the Lord!
Hosannah in the highest! [Sing to Him in the highest heights!]
When Jesus entered Jerusalem, the whole city was stirred and asked, “Who
is he?” The crowds answered, “This is Jesus, the prophet from Nazareth in
Galilee.”
Matthew
21: 1-11
In
today’s Gospel reading, we are presented with a somewhat odd picture: the king,
entering His city of peace, riding on two beasts of burden, a donkey and her
young one. This is certainly was an event that happened at the gate of Jerusalem two thousand
years ago. But it is still happening.
For
one could say that the beast of burden represents the human physical body. It
is the vehicle for the conveyance of our human spirit on earth. It is the
bearer of the burdens of our destiny. But out of this beast of burden, another is
already coming forth, a younger one, created by our current life, in
preparation for our life in the future.
We
can invite Christ to ride with us; we can make our bodies the vehicle of
conveyance for His Spirit, as well as our own. We can place ourselves at the
King’s disposal.
There
is a terrible Holy Week paradox in this: for the King is riding toward His
sacrificial death. We are carrying Him there. But beyond this, death will be
transformed; there will be resurrection. And the young one in us will be
strengthened, able to carry more of His Spirit in the future. We too will
eventually become sacrificial Kings.
As
Rilke says:
All will come again
into its strength:
…people as
strong
and varied as the
land….
no belittling of
death,
but only longing for
what belongs to us
and serving earth,
lest we remain unused.[1]