The story of Jesus falls into two halves; the part before Palm Sunday and the week after it. Before Palm Sunday, Jesus very rarely says or does anything overtly political. He doesn’t seem to have any ambition other than to teach and heal people. Then suddenly he comes to Holy Week and everything he does is political. Before Palm Sunday, Jesus deals with us on the level playing field of interpersonal relationships and the fair exchange of ideas. He teaches in open fields where people can interrupt him and ask him questions. He forms an intimate circle of disciples where everyday life — how are you today, Peter?—is valued. He heals by touching and his favorite miracle is having a few loaves of bread multiply as they are passed from one hungry person to another.
On Palm Sunday he exits the egalitarian world and enters politics as we know it today. As he transitions into the walled and gated city of our newsfeed world, he does three symbolic acts to ask for our vote: 1) He accepts the nomination of his followers who shout that he is Messiah or King of Jews, 2) He rides a donkey through the Eastern Gate, fulfilling prophesies relating to a new political age, 3) He has people wave palm branches, which are symbolic reminders of an earlier revolution when the Maccabeans kicked the Seleucids out of Jerusalem.
In doing this Jesus challenges our hierarchal world. In a world where Caesar is over Pontius Pilate, who is over the people of Judea, Jesus says, “You would have no authority if God hadn’t given it to you.” In the religious world where the High Priest rules over lesser priests who rule over laity, Jesus announces his own unique relationship as the son of God. His very presence in Jerusalem, the capital, circumvents the established authority.
On Palm Sunday, everyone says, “I’ll vote for him.” But having accepted that nomination Jesus is the same person that he was in Galilee. He still heals. He calls us each as individuals to leave our proud positions of honor and live compassionately. By the end of the week he is broken. “Behold the man,” Pilate says. He is hung on a cross. As he hangs there, I picture people walking by him and saying, “I didn’t vote for him either.”
What do you say? You might be tempted to say, “I want the old Jesus back,” and “give me the Jesus I voted for.” Jesus can’t do what he came to do, without entering the walled city of our culture, our political institutions, our world. He is the same Jesus as he stands before Pilate as he is when he breaks bread with us in Holy Communion. We must live, as Karl Bart once said, with the Gospel of Jesus in one hand and our daily newspaper in the other.