The Triumphal Entry

Yesterday we celebrated Palm Sunday, the day of Jesus' triumphal entry into Jerusalem approximately a week before he was crucified.  I associate Palm Sundays with those small palm frond crosses that were handed out at the door of the church we used to attend when I was small.  

Because the story gets told so frequently, it's easy to take a quick and all too superficial look at The Triumphal Entry.  But an understanding of history brings fresh understanding to what was going on here.

I recently read a book by Conn Iggulden which described a civil and religious ceremony performed by the Roman army known as a "triumph".  While the practice was the right of any victorious general returning from a successful campaign, he needed the permission of the Senate to perform it.  Indeed, his army had to wait beyond the city walls until such permission had been granted.  During this period of waiting, the men would painstakingly polish armour, oil leather and sharpen weapons.  They would groom horses, plume head-dresses and ready all the spoils of the campaign (including prisoners).

Once permission was granted, the legion would march proudly through the city on a pre-arranged route, showing off their spoils, parading captives and receiving due praise and adoration from the citizens.  Often this involved the lining of the streets with garments and vegetation.   

Perched on a stately war chariot and clad in the ceremonial regalia which identified him as near divine, the man of the hour was the victorious General.  Often, ceremonial coins bearing his profile were minted especially for the event.  The march would end at Jupiter's temple where sacrifices and tokens were offered to the gods.

Back to Palm sunday and The Triumphal Entry.  In some ways it bears striking parallels to this Roman practice.  In other ways it couldn't be more different.  For here the entry is, as far as we know, unapproved.  In place of the proud, gleaming legions is a motley band of Jews and their Nazarene leader.  In place of the war chariot, a donkey.  There are no spoils to speak of - and certainly no captives.

Yet strangely, the reception is electrifying.

A couple of things strike me about this story:

Donkey vs. Horse

Why could Jesus not at least have chosen a horse?  There must have been hundreds of them around.  The donkey, a KZN farmer once told me, is amongst the most sensitive and affectionate of animals.  It has a tendency for loyalty that rivals a dog and when mistreated falls into a deep depression.  So perhaps it's not such a big surprise that this "man of sorrows" would have chosen such beast on which to ride.

Why the rapid change of sentiment?

How quickly things changed for Jesus during the course this week.  Did it have something to do with the nature of his entry?  Did Jesus deliberately plan it this way to make his presence felt? 

In John 7 we read of how his brothers had once encouraged him to "show himself" to the public at large.

"No one who wants to become a public figure acts in secret. Since you are doing these things, show yourself to the world."

Though we went to Jerusalem shortly after this to celebrate the Feast of Tabernacles, caution - albeit a Godly form - was the hallmark of his ministry. 

Until now.

Now he was entering the Lion's den with more fanfare and pomp that bordered on recklessness.  Indeed, it looks for all the world that his very intention was not only to rattle the Jewish authorities - but to send a message to the Roman garrison too (whose tradition he had co-opted).

A week later the mission was over.  Calgary was behind him and so was the grave.  With his ascension in the coming weeks, he would soon perform another Triumphal Entry - this time through the gates and down the streets of Heaven.  This time he would look every bit the returning conqueror - even down to the last and very important details.  As Paul wrote in his letter to Ephesians:

"He ascended on high, he led captives in his train and gave gifts to men"