Palm Sunday readings: Luke 19:28-40 and 22:14-23:56
Research into the traditions of ancient Jerusalem at
the time of the Passover tells us that it was the biggest Jewish celebration of
the year. People came from all over the known world to be in Jerusalem for the
Passover to thank God for all God has done for the people, Israel. We also know
that during that same celebration, Pilate held an annual march through town.
Pilate, being the local Roman authority, was the ruler of Jerusalem – actually
all of Jude and Samaria and Idumea - on behalf of Caesar. As far as he was
concerned, these Jews were allowed their little festival only because of his royal
benevolence. Yet the Passover had to be a nail-biting season for Pilate. So
many Jews came to Jerusalem for the festival, it would be the opportune time
for them to raise a rebellion, especially since Passover is a celebration of
liberation from a different empire. In fact, there was a history of Jews
causing trouble at this particular time. And so, every year, Pilate held an
imperial march right at the beginning of Passover. He donned his military
vestments, rode his big black horse, and with a legion of men, marched from the
west right past the Temple so everyone could see. It was a statement of
power. It was a parade that celebrated
rule by fear and force. It was his way of saying, “you can have your little
festival, but don’t you forget who exactly is in charge here.”
But this particular year, the year that Jesus came
to Jerusalem for Passover, there was a second parade on the first day of
Passover. It was a peasant parade. A parade from the east of the city, not
regal, not armed. There is only one small animal, a donkey, but hundreds of
people have turned up to watch and to shout and celebrate this parade.
“Hosanna!” They shouted, “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the
Lord!” as they threw their cloaks on the road and waved palm branches. This
parade was in stark contrast to the other. Pilate’s procession represented the
power of violence and fear. Jesus’ parade embodied the power of God’s kingdom
active on earth.
I recently came across a poem based on the true
events of May 26, 2007 in Knoxville, Tennessee.
It’s called “White Flour” and it’s a similar tale of
two parades in one town, by David LaMotte.
The day was bright and sunny as most
May days tend to be
In the hills of Appalachia down in Knoxville, Tennessee
A dozen men put on their suits and quickly took their places
In white robes and those tall and pointed hoods that hid their faces
Their feet all fell in rhythm as they started their parade
They raised their fists into the air, they bellowed and they brayed
They loved to stir the people up, they loved when they were taunted
They didn’t mind the anger, that’s precisely what they wanted
In the hills of Appalachia down in Knoxville, Tennessee
A dozen men put on their suits and quickly took their places
In white robes and those tall and pointed hoods that hid their faces
Their feet all fell in rhythm as they started their parade
They raised their fists into the air, they bellowed and they brayed
They loved to stir the people up, they loved when they were taunted
They didn’t mind the anger, that’s precisely what they wanted
As they came around the corner, sure
enough, the people roared
They couldn’t quite believe their ears, it seemed to be… support!
Had Knoxville finally seen the light, were people coming ‘round?
The men thought for a moment that they’d found their kind of town
But then they turned their eyes to where the cheering had its source
As one their faces soured as they saw the mighty force
The crowd had painted faces, and some had tacky clothes
Their hair and hats outrageous, each had a red foam nose
They couldn’t quite believe their ears, it seemed to be… support!
Had Knoxville finally seen the light, were people coming ‘round?
The men thought for a moment that they’d found their kind of town
But then they turned their eyes to where the cheering had its source
As one their faces soured as they saw the mighty force
The crowd had painted faces, and some had tacky clothes
Their hair and hats outrageous, each had a red foam nose
The clowns had come in numbers to
enjoy the grand parade
They danced and laughed that other clowns had come to town that day
And then the marchers shouted, and the clowns all strained to hear
Each one tuned in intently with a gloved hand to an ear
“White power!” screamed the marchers, and they raised their fisted hands
The clowns leaned in and listened like they couldn’t understand
Then one held up his finger and helped all the others see
The point of all this yelling, and they joined right in with glee
They danced and laughed that other clowns had come to town that day
And then the marchers shouted, and the clowns all strained to hear
Each one tuned in intently with a gloved hand to an ear
“White power!” screamed the marchers, and they raised their fisted hands
The clowns leaned in and listened like they couldn’t understand
Then one held up his finger and helped all the others see
The point of all this yelling, and they joined right in with glee
“White flour!” they all shouted and
they felt inside their clothes
They pulled out bags and tore them and huge clouds of powder rose
They poured it on each other and they threw it in the air
It got all over baggy clothes and multi-colored hair
All but just a few of them were joining in the jokes
You could almost see the marchers turning red beneath white cloaks
They wanted to look scary, they wanted to look tough
One rushed right at the clowns in rage, and was hauled away in cuffs
They pulled out bags and tore them and huge clouds of powder rose
They poured it on each other and they threw it in the air
It got all over baggy clothes and multi-colored hair
All but just a few of them were joining in the jokes
You could almost see the marchers turning red beneath white cloaks
They wanted to look scary, they wanted to look tough
One rushed right at the clowns in rage, and was hauled away in cuffs
But the others chanted louder
marching on around the bend
The clowns all marched on too, of course, supporting their new friends
“White power!” came the marchers’ cry — they were not amused
The clowns grew still and thoughtful; perhaps they’d been confused
They huddled and consulted, this bright and silly crowd
They listened quite intently, then one said “I’ve got it now!”
“White flowers!” screamed the happy clown and all the rest joined in
The air was filled with flowers, and they laughed and danced again
The clowns all marched on too, of course, supporting their new friends
“White power!” came the marchers’ cry — they were not amused
The clowns grew still and thoughtful; perhaps they’d been confused
They huddled and consulted, this bright and silly crowd
They listened quite intently, then one said “I’ve got it now!”
“White flowers!” screamed the happy clown and all the rest joined in
The air was filled with flowers, and they laughed and danced again
“Everyone loves flowers, and white’s
a pretty sort
I can’t think of a better cause for marchers to support!”
Green flower stems went flying like small arrows from bad archers
White petals covered everything, including the mad marchers
And then a very tall clown called the others to attention
He choked down all his chuckles, then said “Friends I have to mention
That with all the mirth and fun today it’s sort of hard to hear
But now I know the cause that these strange marchers hold so dear
I can’t think of a better cause for marchers to support!”
Green flower stems went flying like small arrows from bad archers
White petals covered everything, including the mad marchers
And then a very tall clown called the others to attention
He choked down all his chuckles, then said “Friends I have to mention
That with all the mirth and fun today it’s sort of hard to hear
But now I know the cause that these strange marchers hold so dear
“Tight showers!” the clown bellowed
and he hit his head in wonder
He held up a camp shower and the others all got under
Or at least they tried to get beneath, they strained but couldn’t quite
There wasn’t room for all of them— they pushed, but it was tight
“White Power!” came their marchers’ cry, quite carefully pronounced
The clowns consulted once again, then a woman clown announced
“I’ve got it! I’m embarrassed that it took so long to see
But what these marchers march for is a cause quite dear to me…”
He held up a camp shower and the others all got under
Or at least they tried to get beneath, they strained but couldn’t quite
There wasn’t room for all of them— they pushed, but it was tight
“White Power!” came their marchers’ cry, quite carefully pronounced
The clowns consulted once again, then a woman clown announced
“I’ve got it! I’m embarrassed that it took so long to see
But what these marchers march for is a cause quite dear to me…”
“Wife power!” she exclaimed and all
the other clowns joined in
They shook their heads and laughed at how erroneous they’d been
The women clowns were hoisted up on shoulders of the others
Some pulled on wedding dresses, shouting “Here’s to wives and mothers!”
The men in robes were angry and they knew they’d been defeated
They yelled a few more times and then they finally retreated
And when they’d gone a black policeman turned to all the clowns
And offered them an escort to the center of the town
They shook their heads and laughed at how erroneous they’d been
The women clowns were hoisted up on shoulders of the others
Some pulled on wedding dresses, shouting “Here’s to wives and mothers!”
The men in robes were angry and they knew they’d been defeated
They yelled a few more times and then they finally retreated
And when they’d gone a black policeman turned to all the clowns
And offered them an escort to the center of the town
The day was bright and sunny as most
May days tend to be
In the hills of Appalachia down in Knoxville, Tennessee
People joined the new parade, the crowd stretched out for miles
The clowns passed out more flowers and made everybody smile
And what would be the lesson of that shiny southern day?
Can we understand the message that the clowns sought to convey?
Seems that when you’re fighting hatred, hatred’s not the thing to use
So here’s to those who march on in their big red floppy shoes
In the hills of Appalachia down in Knoxville, Tennessee
People joined the new parade, the crowd stretched out for miles
The clowns passed out more flowers and made everybody smile
And what would be the lesson of that shiny southern day?
Can we understand the message that the clowns sought to convey?
Seems that when you’re fighting hatred, hatred’s not the thing to use
So here’s to those who march on in their big red floppy shoes
(based on true events of May 26,
2007 – ©2007 David LaMotte)
You and I, as
participants in the alternative kind of parade, and marchers behind Jesus
follow the one who did not use his power for fear or fame or even to save his
own life. Instead this triumphant entry into Jerusalem becomes in fact a death
march leading him directly to the cross. He is the one who sides with the
outcast, the marginalized and the oppressed. When hate and fear take to the
streets, he is there marching for peace and freedom whether in the year 30 or
the year 2007 or this very day, his is the way of peace, justice…and sacrifice.
*Borg, Marcus J. and John Dominic Crossan, The
Last Week, Harper Collins, United States, 2006. pp 2-5
* Check out David Lamotte’s website http://www.davidlamotte.com/white-flour/
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