Psalm 18.31-50: The Lord lives!
31 For who is God besides the Lord? And who is the Rock except our God?
32 It is God who arms me with strength and keeps my way secure.
33 He makes my feet like the feet of a deer;
he causes me to stand on the heights.
34 He trains my hands for battle; my arms can bend a bow of bronze.
35 You make your saving help my shield, and your right hand sustains me;
your help has made me great.
36 You provide a broad path for my feet, so that my ankles do not give way.
37 I pursued my enemies and overtook them;
I did not turn back till they were destroyed.
38 I crushed them so that they could not rise; they fell beneath my feet.
39 You armed me with strength for battle;
you humbled my adversaries before me.
40 You made my enemies turn their backs in flight, and I destroyed my foes.
41 They cried for help, but there was no one to save them—
to the Lord, but he did not answer.
42 I beat them as fine as windblown dust;
I trampled them like mud in the streets.
43 You have delivered me from the attacks of the people;
you have made me the head of nations.
People I did not know now serve me,
44 foreigners cower before me; as soon as they hear of me, they obey me.
45 They all lose heart; they come trembling from their strongholds.
46 The Lord lives! Praise be to my Rock! Exalted be God my Saviour!
47 He is the God who avenges me, who subdues nations under me,
48 who saves me from my enemies.
You exalted me above my foes; from a violent man you rescued me.
49 Therefore I will praise you, Lord, among the nations;
I will sing the praises of your name.
50 He gives his king great victories; he shows unfailing love to his anointed,
to David and to his descendants forever.
Matthew 21.1-11: Jesus Comes to Jerusalem as King
As they approached Jerusalem and came to Bethphage on the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, 2 saying to them, “Go to the village ahead of you, and at once you will find a donkey tied there, with her colt by her. Untie them and bring them to me. 3 If anyone says anything to you, say that the Lord needs them, and he will send them right away.”
4 This took place to fulfill what was spoken through the prophet:
5 “Say to Daughter Zion,
‘See, your king comes to you,
gentle and riding on a donkey,
and on a colt, the foal of a donkey.’”
6 The disciples went and did as Jesus had instructed them. 7 They brought the donkey and the colt and placed their cloaks on them for Jesus to sit on. 8 A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, while others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. 9 The crowds that went ahead of him and those that followed shouted,
“Hosanna to the Son of David!” “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”
“Hosanna in the highest heaven!”
10 When Jesus entered Jerusalem, the whole city was stirred and asked, “Who is this?”
11 The crowds answered, “This is Jesus, the prophet from Nazareth in Galilee.”
Today has been Palm Sunday, like no other experienced in any of our lifetimes. No celebratory gathering in church. No sombre holding up of palm crosses together. No prayer of blessing experienced together as followers of Jesus, reminding us how ‘Jesus Christ entered Jerusalem as Messiah to suffer and to die.’ It was done, of course. But via Zoom or YouTube in bedrooms and around kitchen tables – in domestic circumstances. Bishop David Walker, of Manchester, led such a service from his Salford home (pictured above). But Christ’s cross remains the same sign of victory. We can still ever hail him as our King. And we still follow him in the way that leads to eternal life.
On this Palm Sunday 2020, I am drawn to reflect on the huge contrast between David’s triumphalism (in the second part of Psalm 18) and Jesus’ humility (as seen in Matthew 21.1-11). Verse by verse, the disparities are striking.
First of all I note the physicality of David’s thanksgiving. His hands have been armed for battle, his feet made as fleet as a deer, his arms are strong and he is ready to crush enemies who he has pursued and trampled into the dust – like mud in the streets. Christ’s frame, by contrast, is borne gently by a donkey in this ‘triumphal entry’ into Jerusalem. He does not trample others into the dust: quite the opposite, although he knows he is going into a city that will not receive him, he receives the tribute of the poorer crowd of followers (made up of outsiders from Galilee, Jericho and the Judean countryside). That crowd of joyful people throw their own clothes onto the ground as a sign of their trust in him, their submission, even, to his kingly reign. While David delights in the knowledge that he has ‘crushed’ his enemies, quite literally, their bodies falling beneath his conquering feet, Jesus is acclaimed as a king who comes in gentleness on a humble donkey.
In verses 40-45, we have a picture of a ruthless king who destroys enemies, grinds them into dust, makes foreigners ‘cower’, fear and lose heart. Yet Jesus, who has not won any battle, has not fought with his hands or run waving a sword into any armed conflict, is acclaimed by the crowds with loud shouts of praises. They identify him as a ‘Son of David’, as one who comes in God’s name and whose praise should reach the heights of heaven. This is a very different kind of kingship.
One verse, the 46th , is possibly one point of convergence between the psalm and the account of Jesus’ arrival at Jerusalem’s gate as a king. ‘The Lord lives! Praise be to my Rock! Exalted be God my Saviour!’ would not have been out of place as a shout of triumph on that first Palm Sunday.
As I reflect on what we know is coming – Jesus’ arrest and persecution by violent men; his trumped up trials and his humiliation, his flogging, his crown of thorns, his crucifixion and his death – I am drawn, again, to further contrasts between this psalm and the Palm Sunday narrative.
Desperate and corrupt political regimes who want to hang on to power will resort to violence to do so. King David did. And the powerful – both the Romans and the Religious leaders in Jerusalem – did in Jesus’ time. Jesus rides into Jerusalem and we are told the city is shaken (Matthew 20.10) – rather like it was at his birth, when the Magi arrived looking for the new king (Matthew 2.3). ‘Who is this man?’ the city’s powerful rulers asks. The poorer folk from the far country of Galilee and Judea cry out: ‘He is a prophet, his name is Jesus of Nazareth.’
History is most often narrated by the powerful. Jesus’ story and his witness to a different narrative – God’s peaceable kingdom in a violent world – survives incredibly despite the powerful. His character inspired followers to great sacrifice and leadership of a servant kind throughout the ages, even as others have used the creeds and doctrines of the faith to seize power and abuse their power. On this Palm Sunday in an age of pandemic, it is the lowly and meek, the overlooked and the reviled, the voiceless in care homes and the prisoners held for our safety (yet in potential hotbeds of the virus), that need to be heard, supported and loved.
Postscript: another kind of monarchy
In only the fourth time in her 68-year reign, the Queen this evening addressed the nation at a time that is not Christmas. She also presents a different kind of monarchy, one where her character of disciplined, committed service in turbulent times has shone through. At the heart of her short address, she reminded everyone that we each have a leadership role to play. She urged self-restraint, empathy and determination as the characteristics of this nation which need to shine through these coming months. In a speech which had strong echoes of the kind of fortitude displayed by this country during the Second World War (and with echoes of Dame Vera Lynn's famous song 'We'll meet again' resonating between the lines), the Queen said:
'Together we are tackling this disease, and I want to reassure you that if we remain united and resolute, then we will overcome it. I hope in the years to come everyone will be able to take pride in how they responded to this challenge. And those who come after us will say the Britons of this generation were as strong as any. That the attributes of self-discipline, of quiet good-humoured resolve and of fellow-feeling still characterise this country....The pride in who we are is not a part of our past, it defines our present and our future. While we have faced challenges before, this one is different. This time we join with all nations across the globe in a common endeavour, using the great advances of science and our instinctive compassion to heal. We will succeed - and that success will belong to every one of us. We should take comfort that while we may have more still to endure, better days will return: we will be with our friends again; we will be with our families again; we will meet again.'
What does victory look like?
ReplyDeleteFor King David it includes the crushing of enemies.
For Jesus it looks like a crucified King saying the words “It is finished”, his work of life giving love and forgiveness completed.
For our Queen, addressing the nation last night, it involves “the attributes of self-discipline, of quiet good-humoured resolve and of fellow-feeling”. She shared some of “her-story”, reflecting back on when, as a young teenager, she spoke to children evacuated in the war, separated from their parents. And she thanked all who are working selflessly in the care of others.
Let’s pray that victory over this wretched virus will look like a kinder, more compassionate society; a world where nations cooperate and unite in common causes; where we breathe cleaner air and use our cars less; where Christian faith and prayer flourish in homes not just in church buildings; where gratitude for every good thing replaces greed of every kind.