Sermon for Palm/Passion Sunday

April 13, 2025

By Kristin Berkey-Abbott



The Palm and Passion Narrative in Luke



Today’s readings give us all sorts of contrasts, some of which we’re aware of, some of which may be lost on us. Let’s see if we can explore some of them, and by doing so, let’s see if we can hear the story in new and relevant ways.

Our Palm Sunday narrative, the first one we read, gives us Jesus entering Jerusalem on a colt. Two thousand years later, some of the significance might be lost on us. There’s prophetic significance, which many of us have been trained to recognize. After all, we often have our Holy Week Gospel readings paired with Old Testament texts that the first century Christians would have used to interpret and understand what they had witnessed in the life of Jesus and his resurrection.

A piercing piece of information in the Palm Sunday story is the entrance of Jesus. We might hear the story of Jesus on a colt and assume that he was tired or that he was riding on a colt because an Old Testament prophet peered into the future and said that the savior of Israel would enter Jerusalem on a meager animal.

But first century believers would have contrasted the entrance of Jesus with the entrance of Caesar or Caesar’s representative, Pontius Pilate, the Roman emperor, who would likely have also had a grand entrance into Jerusalem. In their book about Holy Week, Marcus J. Borg and John Dominic Crossan point out that it was standard practice for Roman governors of Judea to come to Jerusalem for major Jewish festivals. Passover was the biggest one. Let’s be clear—they weren’t in Jerusalem because of their deep reverence for God. No, they were there in case there was trouble.

Jesus enters on a young horse. Pilate would enter on a stallion—a much more impressive steed--and he would be flanked by calvary and soldiers. Every movement would proclaim that Rome was in charge. This imperial procession would be very different from Jesus, who entered with a throng of peasants, singing songs and glorifying God.

If we didn’t already know the implications of this contrast, we might think that the Jewish leaders would be happy at the proclamations of the people. But we know that these two contrasting triumphant entries set the stage for what is to come. Jesus enters on a colt, with people pledging allegiance to God, not Caesar. The contrast between the Kingdom of God and the Empire of Earth isn’t always this visible. We shouldn’t blame the religious leaders for wishing the people would quiet down. This kind of behavior isn’t the kind that will go well when imperial powers take notice. Anyone aligned with the Romans would see this as a piece of performance art that made a mockery of Roman power.

And those people in alignment with Roman power are in Jerusalem, and they will take notice of this demonstration. Jesus has been on a collision course with Rome for a long time as he taught resistance techniques and insisted on justice. This week is the time it will come to a boiling point.

The Holy Week texts show us all the ways that nearly everyone betrays Jesus, each in their own contrasting way. The crowds who are so enthusiastic on Palm Sunday demand Jesus’ death by Friday. What has changed their minds? What were they hoping would happen and why do they feel so angry that they would rather have Barabbas, a murderer and a terrorizing insurrectionist, back in the community than Jesus, the one who fed and healed them and drove out demons from their midst?

When we think about the betrayals of Holy Week, we probably think about Judas and Peter, but look at that Last Supper text again. We see that the disciples still don’t understand what Jesus has called them to do. In Luke 22: 24, the disciples show that they still don’t understand the nature of the Messiah with whom they have spent so much time. They seem to think that they are operating in a system with a familiar hierarchy, the kind of hierarchy announced with imperial processions and royal armies. If Jesus is the head of the organization, then who gets to be the greatest after him, the second in command? Once again, in verses 25-27, Jesus reminds the disciples of the different kind of system he has come to implement, one based on service, not being in charge. The inbreaking kingdom of God will be different from the world they have experienced. In God’s inbreaking Kingdom, the least will be first.

We might do some comparing of ourselves with these people of ancient times. We might think that we would never betray Jesus in this way, enthusiastic on Sunday, disillusioned and bitter by Friday. We might think that we would never be like those disciples, the ones who don’t understand what Jesus calls them to do. We might say that we would never sell out Jesus with coin or kiss. We might say that we would never deny knowing Jesus three times before the cock crows.

The good news of this Holy Week story is that Jesus does what he came to do, regardless of the reaction of those around him. Even on the cross, Jesus continues his mission of forgiveness and redemption. Luke is the only gospel where Jesus prays, “Father forgive them, for they know not what they do.” While he is dying on a cross, Jesus asks for forgiveness for those who nailed him up there. In Luke, the thief on one side of him asks to be remembered, and Jesus invites him to come to Paradise too—redemption, even in the midst of death.

When I think about the contrasts in the Holy Week story, this contrast between life and death, between the world that crucifies and the one that redeems—this contrast is the greatest one. Jesus comes into our broken world, which tries in every way to break him, and even in the most gruesome death, Jesus remains unbroken by the forces which send everyone else whimpering away. Even in the agony of the cross, Jesus still proclaims that the Kingdom of God is at hand.

In a world that tries to slaughter all that we hold dear, that message is Good News. That Good News has been delivered by angel choirs in the skies over Bethlehem, through a distant star that spoke to wise observers far away, in the words and actions of Jesus, and in the lives of two thousand centuries of believers. Let us hear it with fresh ears this morning: The Kingdom of God is at hand. Let us go proclaim it.