The Messiah We Want...

Jesus' triumphant entry into Jerusalem, one of the few incidents from the life of Jesus recorded in all four gospels, is Jesus' "coming out" party. It is a deliberate act, carefully planned out and prepared for by Jesus and his disciples. It is meant to be noticed, for it is Jesus' climactic revelation to Israel. All the people of Israel - from those scattered ones on sacred pilgrimage to those who made their home in the holy city - are invited to observe, recognize, and respond to the truth that Jesus is God's appointed messiah. Jesus wants the people to recognize that in him God's salvation comes, in fulfillment of ancient prophecy, humble and riding on a donkey.

Staging the Event (2-7)

Jesus' ride into Jerusalem on the donkey is planned out with careful deliberation. It is a strategic moment of self-disclosure. Prior to this moment, Jesus had regularly warned others against publicly identifying him as the messiah. Scholars label this the "messianic secret". Many believe the secret existed because Jesus' understanding of messiah did not conform to public expectations. Jesus knew that the messiah we want is not necessarily the messiah the world needs. If the crowd quickly pinpointed him as messiah, he would be locked in a cubbyhole of the crowd's distorted expectations - expectations he hoped to shatter through his teaching and example.

Now, after three years, the veil is being lifted. No more will Jesus seek to keep his identity under wraps. He is ready to face - and hopefully change - the people's expectations of messiah.

Jesus deliberately stages the manner of his entrance into Jerusalem in terms of the prophetic expectations of Zechariah 9:9:

Rejoice greatly, O daughter Zion!
Shout aloud, O daughter Jerusalem!
Lo, your king comes to you;
triumphant and victorious is he,
humble and riding on a donkey,
on a colt, the foal of a donkey. (Zechariah 9:9)

Matthew modifies the prophetic quotation by integrating it with Isaiah 62:11:

The Lord has proclaimed
to the end of the earth:
"Say to daughter Zion,
'See, your salvation comes;
his reward is with him,
and his recompense before him.'" (Isaiah 62:11)

By quoting Zechariah 9:9, Matthew establishes that Jesus' manner of entry into Jerusalem is the fulfillment of ancient prophecy: Jesus is the messiah. By combining Zechariah 9:9 with Isaiah 62:11, Jesus' entrance is given the weight of being announced by God. God calls Israel - and the entire world - to know and be aware of who Jesus is: "The Lord has proclaimed... 'See, your salvation comes.'"

The disciples follow Jesus' commands in regard to obtaining a donkey and colt: "They brought the donkey and the colt, and put their cloaks on them, and he sat on them" (Matthew 21:7). Some theologians, quick to find fault with the scriptures, chastise Matthew for being woodenly literal by making it appear that Jesus straddles both the donkey and the colt at the same time: "and he sat on them." But this comment reveals more about certain theologians' biases than it does the holy writings. Jesus is not riding two donkeys. Matthew is not that clumsy. The most natural antecedent for the pronoun them is the cloaks placed upon the animals. "Jesus sat on them," that is, "Jesus sat on the cloaks."[1]

With everything in place, Jesus is prepared to make his public entrance. Jesus and his disciples enter into the flow of pilgrims making their way into Jerusalem to celebrate Passover.

The Grand Procession (8-9)

It does not take long for Jesus to draw a crowd. Jews from outside Jerusalem gather around Jesus. The crowd erupts in three acts that demonstrate their recognition of Jesus as God's appointed Messiah: (1) they spread their cloaks on the road; (2) wave palm branches; and (3) sing royal hymns to Jesus as the Son of David.

Spreading one's cloak on the road was the customary response to individuals of exalted rank. It was a sign of loyalty, honor and humble reception to one of great prestige. For most people in the crowd, this was the only cloak they possessed.

The garments and branches cover the ground "so that the feet of the ass do not even touch the soil or stones that ordinary people tread." This sort of "red carpet" treatment is reserved for only one who is "marked off as apart from and superior to ordinary human affairs and conditions." Jesus, in effect is escorted into the capital city in a manner befitting royalty. The actions of these Galilean pilgrims clearly constitute a challenge to the residents of Jerusalem to welcome Jesus as their Davidic Messiah.[2]

If the cloaks on the road and the palm branches in the air are not enough, the royal hymns and chants to the Son of David seal the deal. The voice of the crowd proclaims that Jesus is the long-awaited Messiah - the Son of David - now finally arriving in Israel's capital city, Jerusalem.

The crowd's song is a familiar psalm: Psalm 118.

This psalm, a liturgy of thanksgiving, was originally a blessing pronounced by the priests on the pilgrims entering the temple (Ps. 118:26), but here it is shouted to Jesus by the crowd. He is the blessed one, the one who comes in the name of the Lord (cf. Matt. 11:3).[3]

The term "hosanna" is a transliteration of the Hebrew. Its original meaning is "please help or save." It was originally a cry for help, "Please help us, we pray." Over time, the word became an exclamation of praise, but "it nevertheless retained an element of urgency for help and divine assistance. Hence [the crowd's] shouts of adoration are mixed with nationalistic hopes of Jerusalem's liberation"[4] Hosanna "in the highest" "points to God and the court of heaven (cf. 18:10), where the cry of praise is heard and resounds."[5]

The crowds declare Jesus as the Messiah through the offering of their cloaks, the waving of the palm branches, and the singing of psalms to the Son of David. They were determined to make a statement about Jesus to the inhabitants of Jerusalem. They desired to participate in the procession and welcome God's messiah to the holy city.

The response of the crowds on sacred pilgrimage is set in direct contrast to those within the city of Jerusalem. The city is shaken to its core by the arrival of Jesus, but its inhabitants are not sure about his identity. Their response is simply, "Who is this?" (Matthew 21:10). To them, Jesus is little better than a foreigner, being from a remote northern province: "Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee" (Matthew 21:11). The reference to Nazareth reminds us of the humble and unlikely beginnings of Jesus - beginnings set in stark contrast to the high esteem Jesus now receives by the crowds.

The Messiah We Want

Jesus' entry into Jerusalem was carefully planned to make a point. It was a subversive gesture, an acted parable. Tragically, its point seems to have been lost in all the hoopla.

In fulfillment of Zechariah 9:9, Jesus rides in on a donkey in order to draw a contrast between his rule and that of secular rulers. "Rather than an entry with all the trappings of power and militaristic overtones, Jesus enters Jerusalem on the foal of a donkey, thereby making a powerful statement concerning his nonpolitical purpose and character."[6] He comes riding an agricultural tool, not a weapon; a tractor and not a tank. Armed with no instruments of war, in lowliness on a donkey, the Prince of Peace plans no political action. He does not come to overthrow the Gentiles. As Israel's messiah, he comes in humility to reign in accordance with God's kingdom. He comes, not as a warrior-king, but as one who is gentle and humble in heart.

The crowd does not get it, as evidenced by the palm branches. The fact that the crowd raises palm branches implies that they saw Jesus in more revolutionary military terms. The practice of waving palm branches was associated with the central event that marked Israel's last known period of freedom from political oppression. About two hundred years prior to Christ's triumphant entry, another savior had been welcomed into Jerusalem by a crowd waving palm branches. This event would be fresh on the people's minds because their memories were refreshed yearly by the celebration of Hanukkah.

In 167 B.C. Jerusalem was under the dominion of the Syrian king, Antiochus Epiphanes. Antiochus Epiphanes was determined to hellenize Israel by removing all vestiges of Jewish identity. He burned torah scrolls, forbade circumcision and the celebration of Jewish festivals, and desecrated the temple by dedicating it to the Greek god Zeus, erecting a statue of Zeus in the temple, and sacrificing a pig (an unclean animal) to him on the altar of burnt offering.

When an agent of the king demanded that Mattathias, an elderly Jewish priest, step to the altar in front of his family and fellow villagers and be the first to offer sacrifice to pagan gods, Mattathias refused to obey. When another Jew stepped forward to make the sacrifice, Mattathias rushed to the altar and slew the Jew and the king's officer and destroyed the altar. Crying out, "Follow me, every one of you who is zealous for the law and strives to maintain the covenant," he and his sons fled into the hills. There they gathered together a band of faithful followers who engaged in sporadic attacks on pagans and Jewish renegades (Jews who failed to observe Torah).

Before his death, Mattathias urged his sons to defeat the Gentiles and uphold the Torah. His son, Judas Maccabaeus did just this. Judas was a master at guerrilla warfare and was nicknamed "the hammer." Against all odds he hammered away at the Syrians. In 164 B.C. he captured Jerusalem and tore down the altar to Zeus. He cleansed the temple and true worship of Yahweh was restored on Kislev 25 (December 14), 164 B.C. It is this act of liberation that is remembered yearly in the Jewish celebration of Hanukkah.

2 Maccabees 10:1-9 records the eight day process of purifying the temple. At the end of the process the people "carrying ivy-wreathed wands and beautiful branches and also fronds of palm, offered hymns of thanksgiving to him who had given success to the purifying of his own holy place. They decreed by public edict, ratified by vote, that the whole nation of the Jews should observe these days every year" (2 Maccabees 10:8-9).

In 142 B.C., Simon, the last surviving son of Mattathias secured a treaty that established the independence of Judea. Israel's independence endured until 63 B.C. when Pompey subjected the Jews to Roman rule. The Maccabean triumph was celebrated with praise and palm branches:

In the one hundred and seventieth year [142 B.C.] the yoke of the Gentiles was removed from Israel, and the people began to write in their documents and contracts, "In the first year of Simon the great high priest and commander and leader of the Jews." ...

On the twenty-third day of the second month, in the one hundred and seventy-first year, the Jews entered it with praise and palm branches, and with harps and cymbals and stringed instruments, and with hymns and songs, because a great enemy had been crushed and removed from Israel. Simon decreed that every year they should celebrate this day with rejoicing. (1 Maccabees 13:41-42, 51-52)

The fact that the crowd raises palm branches during Jesus' triumphant entry implies that they see Jesus in more revolutionary messianic terms that he desires. They expect a second Judas Maccabees - a master of guerilla tactics who liberated Israel through violent warfare - but they receive a humble king instead.

The messiah they want is not the messiah they receive, but it is the messiah they need. Indeed, it is the messiah the world needs - and that God had promised!

The Messiah We Need

By not advocating revolution against Gentile political powers, Jesus taught that Israel's greatest problem was not Gentile oppression, but the powers of sin and death that oppress all people alike. For Jesus, the real revolution was bigger than politics, nations, or regimes. Violent revolution was not revolutionary enough, for it was to capitulate to the evil powers. It was to compromise God's kingdom, for evil cannot be defeated with its own weapons.

Instead of violent revolt, Jesus called his followers to peacemaking. Jesus did not embrace a violent agenda because he taught and believed that "the time is fulfilled and the kingdom of God is at hand." Jesus believed the fullness of times had arrived, and God's plan was coming to its climax. And in accordance with the scriptures, this meant blessing for both Jew and Gentile alike, that is, for Israel and all the nations.

The climax of God's purposes did not simply mean that faithful Jews would be vindicated, but also, that Gentiles would be blessed in light of a restored Israel. Therefore, in light of the fullness of times bringing God's redemptive plan to its intended goal, Israel's vocation was not to violently overthrow the Gentiles. Instead, it was to bring blessing to the Gentiles through God's restoration of Israel. One thing is clear: It is impossible to both bless and smite the Gentiles.

Year after year we celebrate Palm Sunday by raising our palm branches, but we often fail to recognize that it was precisely these palms that demonstrated the people's confusion concerning who Jesus was and what he really intended to do.

This raises questions: What savior are we celebrating this Palm Sunday? Are we just as ethnicly focused, nationalistic, or violent in our desires? Do we, with our branches, herald the god of our nationalistic self-interests or the God who blesses all nations? the god of our military war machine or the God of peace? The god who blesses America or the God who blesses the world?

You would think after years of celebrating Palm Sunday, remembering Jesus' triumphant entry into Jerusalem, and considering where this will all end in just a few days, that we would learn to expect the unexpected from God - that we would learn to continually challenge our expectations and seek to conform them to what God is really doing. That we would recognize that the Messiah we want is often not really the Messiah we need - that our assumption that God will work according to our expectations is misguided.

N. T. Wright puts it well, "The story of Jesus' grand, though surprising, entry into Jerusalem, then, is an object lesson in the mismatch between our expectations and God's answer."[7]

Jesus upsets our expectations and challenges us to reevaluate them in light of his gospel. We must acknowledge that we share the same sin of those who heralded Jesus during his triumphant entry. We often want to reduce God to our own political platforms, ethnic interests, and violent tendencies - siding with the Pharisees and Pilates, and Herods of this world in maintaining the established order rather than accepting the Prince of Peace, the God who brings blessing to all the world, the God who deals with our greatest problems: sin and death.

God's answers often do not square with our expectations. The anonymous prayer below makes this clear:  

I asked for strength...
and God gave me difficulties to make me strong.
I asked for wisdom...
and God gave me problems to solve.
I asked for prosperity...
and God gave me brawn and brain to work.
I asked for courage...
and God gave me dangers to overcome.
I asked for patience...
and God placed me in situations where I was forced to wait.
I asked for love...
and God gave me troubled people to help.
I asked for favors...
and God gave me opportunities.
I received nothing I wanted.
I received everything I needed.
My prayer has been answered.

How do we respond when our expectations are shattered? We respond by remaining faithful to God's kingdom message and remembering that the messiah we want is not always the messiah we truly need. What we get with Jesus is the messiah the world needs - and that God has promised!

---

© Richard J. Vincent, 2009