Palm Sunday

The closer we look at the world, the more we realize just how quirky of a place it really is. This is the premise of a book by psychologist Richard Wiseman titled Quirkology: How We Discover Big Truths in Small Things. For example, it’s a quirky truth that the single guy in a bar who uses a strange, even weird, pickup line, is more likely than not to get the phone number of the girl he’s chatting up. According to Wiseman’s research, he should open with, “If you were a pizza topping, what would you be?” No kidding.

Quirkology is filled with all kinds of strange insights. According to Wiseman, the best way to spot a liar is not with our eyes — as we’ve been taught — but with our ears. When one is lying, they’ll give much less detail and almost never use the pronoun “I.”

One could argue that Palm Sunday marks the quirkiest moment in the earthly life and ministry of Jesus. On this day, we’re remembering the fact that Jesus once rode a “borrowed” donkey into Jerusalem, and that a crowd of bandwagon believers — many of whom would later shout and harangue him all the way to the cross — waved palm branches at him. Quirky.

To modern ears, this moment is just weird. It was not weird, though, for a person in Jesus’ day to ride a donkey. But it was a bit on the strange side for someone purporting to be a king to enter the capital city on a donkey instead of a horse, as the provincial governor, Pilate, must have done about the same time on that Palm Sunday.

But if you were a first-century Jew, much of this would have made total sense. In the Old Testament Book of Zechariah, there’s a prediction concerning the world’s one true king and how he would make himself known: “Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion! Shout aloud, O daughter of Jerusalem! Behold, your king is coming to you; righteous and having salvation is he, humble and mounted on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey” (Zechariah 9:9 ESV).

Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem is his way of saying, “I’m that guy.”

One of the more difficult aspects of Palm Sunday for us today is this whole idea of messiah-ship or kingship. Here in America, we struggle to grasp the idea of living under the rule of a king.  The idea of an absolute sovereign, having total power over our lives, is not something we embrace. But the kingdom of God is not a democracy. It’s a Jesus-ocracy.  

Kings are sovereign, which means Jesus has absolute authority over absolutely everything. We see hints of this in the quirky instructions Jesus gives regarding the colt. [Jesus] sent two of the disciples, saying, “Go into the village ahead of you, and as you enter it you will find tied there a colt that has never been ridden. Untie it and bring it here. If anyone asks you, ‘Why are you untying it?’ just say this, ‘The Lord needs it’” (vv. 2-3).

Jesus’ taking of the animal, which belongs to someone else, is an assertion of his kingly ownership. He even goes so far as to say, “If anyone has a problem with it, tell them the Lord wants it.” In other words, he’s not stealing because — hey! – he’s the king, and as sovereign it’s all his anyway.

As a Christian, there’s no such thing as a private, personal life that’s off limits to Jesus. He governs our bodies, our debit cards, our desires, what we look up on our phones, what we put in our fridges and how we work at the office. He is king and we look to him and say, “Lord, what is your will with all this stuff you’ve entrusted me with?”

We submit to his authority by showing respect for the other authorities in this world. This is true for presidents and prime ministers and the power they have over their people and even parents with the power they’ve been given over kids. Therefore, and this will sound really quirky to some, when we rightly submit to the authority of others, we’re actually honoring and submitting to Jesus.

When you go to the office your boss is what? The boss. The sovereign. If he says, “Hey, no bonus this year,” you don’t get to look at him and say, “I’m sorry, but can we vote on that?”

When it comes to the kids, mom and dad are what? The final authority. If your son does something stupid and you ground him, there’s no free speech. He doesn’t get to come to you and say, “Dad, with regard to my grounding, I’ve collected a series of signatures from my siblings supporting my immediate release.”

Second, we can also accept Jesus as sovereign, not only by submitting to his authority but by finding peace in his protection. “King” is a military idea. In the ancient world, what often made you a king and kept you as king was your army. The size of your army is what kept the enemy away and allowed your people to sleep peacefully.

To believe that Jesus is king is to believe that he is unmatched in his ability to love you, protect you and rescue you from all enemies. That’s why, as Jesus entered Jerusalem, the people shouted “Hosanna” which means, “Lord, save us.” They did so because they believed that his power could bring their lives the peace they so desperately needed.

Do you know why it is that Jesus rode a colt — a young donkey — into Jerusalem rather than a horse? A king only rode a horse in times of war, when he was a king in battle. A king would ride a donkey when it was a time of peace. Jesus rode the donkey to tell us that life under his rule will not be dominated by war and strife. For those who have faith in him, it will be a life dominated by peace! He will fight the most important battle — with evil and death — on the cross and defeat them both in the resurrection, offering us a life in which the biggest threats are already conquered.

Third and finally, when you live under the rule of a king, you know that you have to treat him differently than you would anyone else. If the president walked into the room there’d be a sense of “wow,” but you’d still just shake his hand as if he were an equal. Why? Because he’s just one of us, put in power by us. It’s one of the quirks of a democratic system.

But not so with a sovereign. There is majesty, royalty, and an air of divinity. You don’t shake hands with the queen of England. You show deference. Perhaps you curtsy or bow.

Why do you think the people laid their coats on the ground when Jesus entered Jerusalem? If Jesus really was the savior-king, then they’d rather have him walk on their clothing than have his animal trudge through the dirt.

Why do you think we sing hymns in church? Why do you think we stand and kneel as we worship and bow our heads when we pray? Listen to what Jesus says, when some wondered aloud why the crowds praised him. “I tell you, if these [people] were silent, the stones would shout out” (Luke 19:28-40). In other words, “If these people don’t give praise recognizing their Creator, the creation itself will scream it.”

Part of our job, as people of the Sovereign, is to show the world who its sovereign leader really is by bowing at his feet and shouting our praise. Even though the rest of the world may mock us, we praise him.

None of this comes easy to us. There’s a learning curve to living under a ruler like Jesus. In fact, embedded in this story is a picture of what the struggle is like. It’s not found in the crowds who praise him, but in the donkey that carries him. The Scriptures tell us that it was a colt that had never been ridden. Now an unbroken animal is terrible to ride; it wants to reject the rider and be free. Yet, because of who Jesus was, this immature and untamed animal submitted to him and exalted him for his journey.

That’s us. We’re untamed and immature and prone to reject all riders. Yet we have been chosen to submit ourselves to Jesus so that, through us, people might see him for who he truly is.

The bottom line is that on Palm Sunday Jesus comes to us as one who would be our king. Are we ready to wave the palm branches, shout “Hosanna” and accept his leadership, mentorship, master-ship, lordship, sovereign-ship, CEO-ship?

Quirky for sure.