Some of the most poignant stories in literature have to do with terrible mistakes, and how they can
contribute to tragedy. One such story that comes to mind is Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. In
that great play, after a series of terrible misunderstandings the young lovers die seemingly
senseless and hauntingly sad deaths. What had seemed so hopeful and exciting comes to a dismal
end.
From the perspective of Jesus’ disciples (at least at the time) today’s Gospel lessons describe this
kind of situation. As the play begins, Jerusalem is abuzz with hope and expectation. It’s days away
from the Passover Feast, which is the biggest national holiday of the Jews. Historians believe that
as many as two million or more people may have been packed into the holy city for the great feast
and the countless animal sacrifices that were to take place at the Temple. People’s expectations
and excitement for a great religious experience were soaring.
And on top of this, Jerusalem throbbed with political tension. The Romans had a well-organized and
effective form of government. But this came at a cost. And the cost to the Jews was an iron-fisted
rule that tolerated no nonsense from anyone who might upset the status quo. Watchful Roman
centurions & soldiers patrolled Jerusalem with shields, spears and swords.
And now, just days before Passover, tension simmers as Jews affronted by the presence of this
occupying force look away and perhaps mutter under their breath. But whispers and rumors of the
deliverer coming to liberate them from Rome pass among the crowds like the bracing breeze before
a storm. As the religious fervor heightens, how could they not entertain thoughts about their future
deliverance by the Messiah? Could it be that some time soon, maybe at a feast such as this, he’d
make his appearance?
Act One begins as Jesus arranges to ride into Jerusalem on a colt. Undoubtedly, this wasn’t some
spur-of-the-moment idea. Jesus carefully planned this event to send an unmistakable message.
Because the expectant people in and around Jerusalem would recognize the prophecy of Zechariah
about the coming king of Israel: “Tell the daughter of Zion, look, your king is coming to you, humble,
and mounted on a donkey, and on a colt, the foal of a donkey.” Now you can bet that a lot of the
whispering about the coming Messiah has focused upon this rabbi, this Jesus, who’s drawn so much
attention to himself. He’s taught, healed, exorcised demons, drawn huge crowds, and said things
about himself that can only be interpreted to mean that he’s the Anointed One, the one sent from
God.
So onto the main road comes Jesus with his small entourage, and he’s seated on a donkey. People
begin to recognize him. Hope kindles in their hearts as they put two and two together and realize
that this is the one who’s been performing signs and miracles, teaching with authority, and
announcing the Kingdom of God. Word spreads like wildfire through the throngs, and a large crowd
gathers along the road. They spread their cloaks on the road; they cut and spread branches from
the palm trees as they welcome this one who just might be the deliverer, the king. A crowd runs
ahead of him, and another behind him. They’re shouting, “Hosanna to the Son of David! Hosanna!
Save us now! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!”
They’re caught up in the belief that the deliverer has arrived. The crowd becomes huge, and when
Jesus enters into Jerusalem, Matthew writes that the whole city is in turmoil. This word in Greek is
used to describe things like big storms and earthquakes. There’s major upheaval, and people are
asking, “Who is this?” Others are replying “This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee.” The
crowd is jubilant. The revolution may have just begun. Or has it?
In the darkened, smoke-filled rooms of Jerusalem (to use the words of N. T. Wright) plots are being
hatched. The curtain lowers, and we await Act Two.
Act Two begins five days after Act One. And what a difference five days makes. In that five days
Jesus’ activity has accelerated dramatically. He’s cleansed the temple of the moneychangers. He’s
used parables to send the message that the current custodians of Judaism, the scribes and
Pharisees, are not only in error, but are dangerous hypocrites who are conveying an entirely wrong
message to the people they’re supposed to be teaching. He’s predicted the destruction of the
temple, and, in a way no one immediately understands, he’s predicted his own death and
resurrection. He’s come front and center with his message against the corruption of those in power,
and those in power don’t like it one bit.
Jesus has directly told his disciples of his coming death, and has instituted the Lord’s Supper.
Meanwhile, the plots being hatched in the back rooms of Jerusalem are setting into motion. Judas
Iscariot has betrayed Jesus to the authorities.
Then, during the terrible, sleepless night in the garden of Gethsemane when the sins of the world
are already beginning to press down on his weary shoulders, Jesus is handed over to the chief
priests and the elders and their henchmen.
We’ve just heard the story, scene after horrifying scene. Suffice it to say that Jesus’ suffering
intensifies from this point forward. He’s put on trial by the Jewish leaders, accused of blasphemy,
and they call for his death. He’s sent before the Roman Governor, Pontius Pilate. Pressured by the
Jewish leaders Pilate washes his hands, sealing Jesus’s fate.
The events that follow are a real-life horror show. The disciples must have lurched to their knees by
this sickening spectacle. Their Master, the one who taught the crowds and healed the sick and
hugged children and performed miracles and forgave sinners, is now mocked, scourged and
tortured. And now, seeing clearly that this pitiable man is far from the promised deliverer of Israel,
the crowds who’d so recently waved their palms and cheered him on, turn on him with venomous
hatred. This can’t have been the Messiah. This has all been a tragic mistake. They wanted Jesus
to be their political liberator. But it turns out that their image of Jesus doesn’t match the reality of
who Jesus really is. And if they can’t have the Jesus they want, they’ll have no Jesus at all.
For the disciples, the heady whirlwind of hope has spun out of control, changed direction, and
become a destructive firestorm that is crushing all hope. All hell has broken loose. The disciples
watch through stunned and tearful eyes as the bleeding Jesus is marched through Jerusalem
bearing the heavy crossbeam to which his precious hands will shortly be nailed.
After the frantic excitement of the triumphal entry into Jerusalem, time now slows to a crawl as Jesus
stumbles through her streets, despised and rejected by the heirs of those who had done the same
to the Old Testament prophets. Dizzy with exhaustion and dehydration, he collapses and Simon of
Cyrene is forced to carry the crossbeam the rest of the way. The crowds wail and jeer as Jesus
makes his way step after interminable step toward his final moments of pain and humiliation.
Words can’t begin to describe how Jesus’ followers feel. An overwhelming wave of evil has washed
over them and over all of the Holy City, and there’s nothing they can do. Jesus is flung onto the
rough timber and nailed to the Cross. The people taunt and torment him as he’s raised up to hang
naked and helpless in front of them. Kind and forgiving to the very end, his lifeblood seeps from his
wounds and he slowly, slowly suffocates on the Cross.
As Jesus breathes his last breath, all hope is extinguished. The drumbeat of waning life abruptly
stops, and a heavy silence descends, broken only by the muffled gasps and sobs of those who
knew and loved Him. The glory of the palm branches lies incinerated in the firestorm of human evil,
and the world is left with only the ashes of death.
How easy it is for us in retrospect not to see how utterly crushing this moment is for the disciples.
They’ve heard their Master say, “It is finished,” as John records in his Gospel. And they believe that
it is finished. Jesus words and acts are now a thing of the past. All their hopes and dreams and
expectations are dashed on the hard, dry stone of Golgotha. For Jesus is dead. The story is
over. It is finished.
But my friends, thanks be to God, there’s been another little mistake. The disciples truly had not yet
understood Jesus’ words. They’d missed the meaning of his predictions of death, sacrifice, and
resurrection. It was far too much for them to fathom. They think the play ends here. But that’s not
the way it is when the playwright is God Himself. There’s much more here than meets the eye.
Jesus had a lot more in his plan than simply driving the Romans from Jerusalem. For when Jesus,
laboring to speak through his sweat and blood and the crushing weight of all of the evil in human
history, said “It is finished,” he really meant, “It has been accomplished. The reason I came into the
world has been fulfilled. I’ve taken on the sins of Adam’s sons and Eve’s daughters and brought
them with me to the grave so that they’ll live in fear and bondage no longer. I’ve completed the work
for which my Father sent me, and the world will never be the same.
The disciples think the play’s over, but in the dimly lit theater there’s a bustle behind the curtain and
the stage is being set for another act. And my friends, keep your tickets, because we’re all invited.
The greatest plot twist in history is about to happen. And if you’d like to see how this drama really
comes out, be here next Sunday morning. I trust you won’t be disappointed!
In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
contribute to tragedy. One such story that comes to mind is Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. In
that great play, after a series of terrible misunderstandings the young lovers die seemingly
senseless and hauntingly sad deaths. What had seemed so hopeful and exciting comes to a dismal
end.
From the perspective of Jesus’ disciples (at least at the time) today’s Gospel lessons describe this
kind of situation. As the play begins, Jerusalem is abuzz with hope and expectation. It’s days away
from the Passover Feast, which is the biggest national holiday of the Jews. Historians believe that
as many as two million or more people may have been packed into the holy city for the great feast
and the countless animal sacrifices that were to take place at the Temple. People’s expectations
and excitement for a great religious experience were soaring.
And on top of this, Jerusalem throbbed with political tension. The Romans had a well-organized and
effective form of government. But this came at a cost. And the cost to the Jews was an iron-fisted
rule that tolerated no nonsense from anyone who might upset the status quo. Watchful Roman
centurions & soldiers patrolled Jerusalem with shields, spears and swords.
And now, just days before Passover, tension simmers as Jews affronted by the presence of this
occupying force look away and perhaps mutter under their breath. But whispers and rumors of the
deliverer coming to liberate them from Rome pass among the crowds like the bracing breeze before
a storm. As the religious fervor heightens, how could they not entertain thoughts about their future
deliverance by the Messiah? Could it be that some time soon, maybe at a feast such as this, he’d
make his appearance?
Act One begins as Jesus arranges to ride into Jerusalem on a colt. Undoubtedly, this wasn’t some
spur-of-the-moment idea. Jesus carefully planned this event to send an unmistakable message.
Because the expectant people in and around Jerusalem would recognize the prophecy of Zechariah
about the coming king of Israel: “Tell the daughter of Zion, look, your king is coming to you, humble,
and mounted on a donkey, and on a colt, the foal of a donkey.” Now you can bet that a lot of the
whispering about the coming Messiah has focused upon this rabbi, this Jesus, who’s drawn so much
attention to himself. He’s taught, healed, exorcised demons, drawn huge crowds, and said things
about himself that can only be interpreted to mean that he’s the Anointed One, the one sent from
God.
So onto the main road comes Jesus with his small entourage, and he’s seated on a donkey. People
begin to recognize him. Hope kindles in their hearts as they put two and two together and realize
that this is the one who’s been performing signs and miracles, teaching with authority, and
announcing the Kingdom of God. Word spreads like wildfire through the throngs, and a large crowd
gathers along the road. They spread their cloaks on the road; they cut and spread branches from
the palm trees as they welcome this one who just might be the deliverer, the king. A crowd runs
ahead of him, and another behind him. They’re shouting, “Hosanna to the Son of David! Hosanna!
Save us now! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!”
They’re caught up in the belief that the deliverer has arrived. The crowd becomes huge, and when
Jesus enters into Jerusalem, Matthew writes that the whole city is in turmoil. This word in Greek is
used to describe things like big storms and earthquakes. There’s major upheaval, and people are
asking, “Who is this?” Others are replying “This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee.” The
crowd is jubilant. The revolution may have just begun. Or has it?
In the darkened, smoke-filled rooms of Jerusalem (to use the words of N. T. Wright) plots are being
hatched. The curtain lowers, and we await Act Two.
Act Two begins five days after Act One. And what a difference five days makes. In that five days
Jesus’ activity has accelerated dramatically. He’s cleansed the temple of the moneychangers. He’s
used parables to send the message that the current custodians of Judaism, the scribes and
Pharisees, are not only in error, but are dangerous hypocrites who are conveying an entirely wrong
message to the people they’re supposed to be teaching. He’s predicted the destruction of the
temple, and, in a way no one immediately understands, he’s predicted his own death and
resurrection. He’s come front and center with his message against the corruption of those in power,
and those in power don’t like it one bit.
Jesus has directly told his disciples of his coming death, and has instituted the Lord’s Supper.
Meanwhile, the plots being hatched in the back rooms of Jerusalem are setting into motion. Judas
Iscariot has betrayed Jesus to the authorities.
Then, during the terrible, sleepless night in the garden of Gethsemane when the sins of the world
are already beginning to press down on his weary shoulders, Jesus is handed over to the chief
priests and the elders and their henchmen.
We’ve just heard the story, scene after horrifying scene. Suffice it to say that Jesus’ suffering
intensifies from this point forward. He’s put on trial by the Jewish leaders, accused of blasphemy,
and they call for his death. He’s sent before the Roman Governor, Pontius Pilate. Pressured by the
Jewish leaders Pilate washes his hands, sealing Jesus’s fate.
The events that follow are a real-life horror show. The disciples must have lurched to their knees by
this sickening spectacle. Their Master, the one who taught the crowds and healed the sick and
hugged children and performed miracles and forgave sinners, is now mocked, scourged and
tortured. And now, seeing clearly that this pitiable man is far from the promised deliverer of Israel,
the crowds who’d so recently waved their palms and cheered him on, turn on him with venomous
hatred. This can’t have been the Messiah. This has all been a tragic mistake. They wanted Jesus
to be their political liberator. But it turns out that their image of Jesus doesn’t match the reality of
who Jesus really is. And if they can’t have the Jesus they want, they’ll have no Jesus at all.
For the disciples, the heady whirlwind of hope has spun out of control, changed direction, and
become a destructive firestorm that is crushing all hope. All hell has broken loose. The disciples
watch through stunned and tearful eyes as the bleeding Jesus is marched through Jerusalem
bearing the heavy crossbeam to which his precious hands will shortly be nailed.
After the frantic excitement of the triumphal entry into Jerusalem, time now slows to a crawl as Jesus
stumbles through her streets, despised and rejected by the heirs of those who had done the same
to the Old Testament prophets. Dizzy with exhaustion and dehydration, he collapses and Simon of
Cyrene is forced to carry the crossbeam the rest of the way. The crowds wail and jeer as Jesus
makes his way step after interminable step toward his final moments of pain and humiliation.
Words can’t begin to describe how Jesus’ followers feel. An overwhelming wave of evil has washed
over them and over all of the Holy City, and there’s nothing they can do. Jesus is flung onto the
rough timber and nailed to the Cross. The people taunt and torment him as he’s raised up to hang
naked and helpless in front of them. Kind and forgiving to the very end, his lifeblood seeps from his
wounds and he slowly, slowly suffocates on the Cross.
As Jesus breathes his last breath, all hope is extinguished. The drumbeat of waning life abruptly
stops, and a heavy silence descends, broken only by the muffled gasps and sobs of those who
knew and loved Him. The glory of the palm branches lies incinerated in the firestorm of human evil,
and the world is left with only the ashes of death.
How easy it is for us in retrospect not to see how utterly crushing this moment is for the disciples.
They’ve heard their Master say, “It is finished,” as John records in his Gospel. And they believe that
it is finished. Jesus words and acts are now a thing of the past. All their hopes and dreams and
expectations are dashed on the hard, dry stone of Golgotha. For Jesus is dead. The story is
over. It is finished.
But my friends, thanks be to God, there’s been another little mistake. The disciples truly had not yet
understood Jesus’ words. They’d missed the meaning of his predictions of death, sacrifice, and
resurrection. It was far too much for them to fathom. They think the play ends here. But that’s not
the way it is when the playwright is God Himself. There’s much more here than meets the eye.
Jesus had a lot more in his plan than simply driving the Romans from Jerusalem. For when Jesus,
laboring to speak through his sweat and blood and the crushing weight of all of the evil in human
history, said “It is finished,” he really meant, “It has been accomplished. The reason I came into the
world has been fulfilled. I’ve taken on the sins of Adam’s sons and Eve’s daughters and brought
them with me to the grave so that they’ll live in fear and bondage no longer. I’ve completed the work
for which my Father sent me, and the world will never be the same.
The disciples think the play’s over, but in the dimly lit theater there’s a bustle behind the curtain and
the stage is being set for another act. And my friends, keep your tickets, because we’re all invited.
The greatest plot twist in history is about to happen. And if you’d like to see how this drama really
comes out, be here next Sunday morning. I trust you won’t be disappointed!
In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
A Terrible Mistake
Palm Sunday
Palm Sunday
March 16, 2008
Fr. Dan Tuton
Fr. Dan Tuton