Jesus of Nazareth was a frustrating person. Palm Sunday is a dramatic case in point. On this Sunday, probably around the year 30, Jesus entered Jerusalem. He was just one of thousands of pilgrims streaming into the holy city to celebrate Passover, one of the great annual feasts of the Jewish calendar.
Well, He wasn't just one of the many. The crowd around Jesus had been so impressed with the wonders He had worked and the sermons He had preached that they were hoping He was the promised Messiah, the great descendant of David who would establish a new kingdom of peace and prosperity. So they began to celebrate him as their saviour from the Roman oppressors and as the founder of a new state.
In a gesture typical of the culture for showing great respect, many pilgrims cut down palm branches and spread them on the road to "soften" the path for the donkey on which Jesus rode. Others waved palm branches and shouted their praises to their new leader.
Jesus accepted the tribute, but He did not accept the role the crowd attempted to foist upon Him. He had not come to remove the Roman yoke. He had not come to set up a new Israelite kingdom. He had come to offer Jews and Gentiles alike what they really needed, not what they thought they wanted.
So, upon entering Jerusalem, Jesus proceeded immediately to overturn the status quo, but not in the way anyone would have predicted. He violently interrupted those at the great Temple who were going about the business of selling pilgrims the required sacrificial animals or changing money into the required coinage. He spoke of His impending death as the necessary means by which the kingdom of God--not just some earthly state--would be established.
He perplexed the crowd that had just praised Him so joyfully. What kind of talk was this? Mighty leaders don't get killed, let alone volunteer for death--they destroy their enemies. Good Jews don't disrupt the Temple worship--they honour it and those who serve in it. Was this the Messiah after all?
Less than a week later, crowds of pilgrims in Jerusalem would call for Jesus' death. He was a great disappointment--a failure, really, who inflamed people's expectations and then did nothing to fulfill them. There's nothing that arouses fury more than dashed hopes.
Today, many want to put Jesus at the head of their own parades. Certain Bible scholars want Jesus to be a clever philosopher or a witty prophet--just as they see themselves to be. Certain preachers want Jesus to be a miracle worker and charismatic leader--just as they see themselves to be. Others want Jesus to be a social worker, or a political revolutionary, or just a really, really nice, tolerant, accepting kind of guy--just as they see themselves to be.
But Jesus just walks away from our parades and agendas. He walks away from the sad little glories we have in mind for Him if He will only patronize our projects. He walks instead toward Good Friday and the crucifixion of all that is temporary and partial and limited and self-centred.
He walks resolutely toward the death of the world's objectives--toward the goals of the next. With the massive momentum of God, He strides directly into the maw of Good Friday, in hopes of emerging on the other side on Easter Sunday morning.
The lesson of Palm Sunday is that Jesus refuses to be co-opted by our programs and preferences, however well-meant, however enthusiastically promoted. He turns away instead and bids men and women everywhere to "Follow Me" on a road toward tasks and successes and blessings of eternal value.
He dismisses our priorities, lets them all get nailed to a cross to die, and still has the audacity to expect us to follow Him and pursue His quest instead.
What a frustrating person--which, Palm Sunday tells us, is just what we need.
John G. Stackhouse Jr. is a professor at Regent College in Vancouver. This article first appeared in the Winnipeg Free Press, March 22, 1997.