Palm Sunday Matthew 21:1-11 I remember when the Berlin wall came down. I was young, but it made an impression, seeing the joy and exultation that the people experienced as they walked over and through the wall without being stopped. The image of the wall coming down became a symbol, not just of a unified Germany, but the end of the Cold War. In the United States, many associate the words of President Reagan demanding that Gorbachev “tear down that wall” with the fall of the Berlin wall. Many would probably say that it was reforms that Gorbachev, the Soviet leader at the time, enacted during his long tenure. No doubt it was a combination of many things. What people don’t usually talk about is the role that prayer played in the reunification of Germany and the destruction of the wall that divided them for so long.
After World War II, Germany was
divided into 4 occupied zones. England,
France and the United States had three zones and the 4th was controlled
by the Soviet Union. Eventually this
evolved into East and West Germany, with communist controlling East Germany,
officially named the German Democratic Republic. St. Nikolai Lutheran Church is located in
Leipzig and was in East Germany. In
1982, individuals from the church and the community began meeting every Monday
night to pray for peace. While that
probably sounds benign to most of us, the pastor at the time (Christian Fuhrer)
knew that they were being spied on as the communist party was not friendly to
Christian Churches, which made it a dangerous endeavor.
For
awhile, it was 10-15 people, but they continued to meet and pray every Monday. Eventually, the prayer group grew, sometimes
in the 100s or even 1000 of people attending. Leadership from the Soviet Union became
anxious and they demanded that the group stop meeting. There were arrests, beatings…but they kept on
praying.
October
7th 1989 marked the 40th anniversary of the German
Democratic Republic, which increased the tensions in an already very tense time.
The prayers turned into protests and demonstrations, still meeting in front of
or near the church. The month before the
40th anniversary tens of thousands were gathering. Finally word came down that the government
was giving the military permission to shoot to kill anyone who showed up on Oct
9th for the prayer and protest. The pastor made an interesting
recommendation. He asked people to bring
candles. If you are carrying candles, it’s
harder to be accused of violence.
Seventy thousand people showed up, many carrying candles. The military and police stood back and
watched. Later the police said, “We were
ready for anything except for candles and prayer.” The wall fell one month later.[1]
We call this day Palm Sunday and
churches everywhere hand out these palms even though only one of the Gospels
records people waving palms. Matthew’s Gospel says that people cut off the
branches from the trees and laid them on the ground before Jesus. I always feel a little disappointed when I
see the palm. There is really not much
to it. It seems counterintuitive that this
is what we are given to welcome a king.
At the same time, it’s appropriate that it’s a little
underwhelming.
Matthew
wrote that Jesus arrived on a donkey and a colt. No one is sure if he was
riding two animals, but Matthew was obviously trying to make a connection to an
Old Testament text that said, “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. He will
cut off the chariot from Ephraim and the warhorse from Jerusalem; and the battle-bow shall be cut off,
and he shall command peace to
the nations…”
Matthew
is obviously trying to connect Jesus, to the king and the Messiah that the
Hebrew scriptures anticipated. This
king was different as he would not be on war horse. He would not carry a weapon. He would be on a donkey or even a young
donkey…possibly both. The point is, this
was a different kind of king. And yet,
he would still defeat the great powers and command peace, but not in the
expected way. Instead of ascending a
throne, he was arrested, beaten and then lifted onto a cross. The cross (that labeled him as King of the
Jews) was his throne.
I
have often referred to Palm Sunday as liturgical whip lash as we start the
service with joy and attempted enthusiasm, and then we all shout “crucify him”
as we listen to the story of his trial and death. Yet as I read and the studied
the Gospel that we began with (the one that is often referred to as the
“triumphant entry”) I realized it really isn’t that triumphant. The last verse is: “When he entered
Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil, asking, ‘Who is this?’” Who is this
who arrives so humbly yet still commands worship from the crowds and fear from
the Roman Empire? Who is this Jesus of Nazareth and why did such a humble and
peaceful man bring such turmoil? The whole city was in turmoil.
Not
only that, but who are we to think that waving these palms means that we
actually understand who Jesus is, understand what he did, what he sacrificed?
Are we being foolish to think that our faith can bring change...that we can
stand before the powers that be and demand change? Were those Germans who carried candles and
prayer almost 40 years ago thinking they could break down an actual wall—were
they foolish? Maybe they were, but they were also victorious… not because of
who they were, but because their prayers.
Remember, this gathering of people who were praying for peace, started
in 1982. The wall came down in 1989. Change takes time, more time than we would
like.
That
crowd that welcomed Jesus carried only branches and cloaks. That is all they were equipped with. Seems like feeble praise, feeble protest---especially
when you compare that to what the Roman Empire had. But that’s the thing about the God that we
worship. We come with our meager
offering, our weakness and our fear. We
come a little jaded, maybe a little bitter.
Thankfully, it’s not about us.
It’s about this God who we worship---this God who rode a donkey into the
city where he would be condemned to die.
He must have been scared. He had to be terrified, but he rode on, over
the cloaks and the branches, through the hoards of people who were not quite
sure who he was…except that he was worthy of their hosannas and their
praises.
I
know many of you are weary…so weary.
Many of you have been praying and protesting, and working for longer
that I have been alive (and I was alive when the Berlin wall came down). Then some of us have only been doing this for
a little while and we are still tired. I
don’t know how they schedule the No Kings rallies, but I would be shocked if it
has nothing to do with Palm Sunday, the day when Christians everywhere welcome
a king…a different kind of king, but a king none the less.
In
our reading from Isaiah, the writer asks to be given the “tongue of a teacher,
that I may know how to sustain the weary with a word.” People give me a lot of reasons why they
worship, or don’t worship at a church.
The reason I hear most often for why people come to church is that it
gives them strength for the week.
Consider
all those who have worshipped here over the last 330 years…in this very place.
They worshipped through revolutions and wars, through economic
depressions…through so very much.
Imagine the prayers that these very walls have heard, that our God has
heard. No doubt, there were many times
people wanted to give up. Perhaps a few people did. But I think the reason we are still here
worshipping after 330 years is because even in our weakness and our weariness,
we still keep praying, we keep speaking out and reminding ourselves and others
what our king—Jesus Christ-- looks like and sounds like. Hold on my siblings in Christ. Easter is coming.
[1]
This story was told as part of the following commentary. I verified the story using several other
sources as well: The
church out in the world (Matthew 21:1-11) | The Christian Century
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