Palm Sunday

What do you see in the holy story at our center today? What image caught your attention? Before I continue, I urge you to take a mental note of what stood out to you, because the Holy Spirit often draws our attention to where we most need it. What word, phrase, or moment came alive? {Pause.} If something resonated, take time to reflect on it later in prayer. Allow God to lead you.

Now, perhaps nothing stood out. That’s okay. This day can easily feel like a blur; as Fr. Colin says, we can suffer from "emotional overload." This feeling of blurry overwhelm is perhaps why our scriptures use the word “behold” more than 1,500 times. Behold! Stop and listen! Something significant is happening right before you, and it changes everything. To behold is to deeply take in the truth of what you see. Using this word as inspiration, I invite us all to behold our Messiah anew, looking at four key moments in Matthew’s passion narrative.

 

First, behold our very Jewish Messiah.

He is the cosmic king foretold as far back as Genesis. Do we see him in this light? Probably not, as most of us were not raised within the Jewish tradition. But we get to practice every time we engage with Matthew, who is most interested in proving that Jesus is the Jewish Messiah.

Only in Matthew does Jesus ride two animals into Jerusalem. As we heard in Matthew 21:2, Jesus tells his disciples: “Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her; untie them and bring them to me.” A donkey and a colt. Why is Matthew so specific? Why not just one “young donkey” like John?

Matthew is highlighting two passages from the Hebrew Scriptures: Zechariah 9, and the prophecy of Jacob for the tribe of Judah in Genesis 49:

“The scepter shall not depart from Judah, nor the ruler’s staff from between his feet, until Shiloh comes to him, and the obedience of the peoples is his. Binding his foal to the vine and his donkey’s colt to the choice vine, he washes his garments in wine and his robe in the blood of grapes…”

Did you catch it? Binding his foal and his donkey’s colt. This is the vision of a King who reigns until peace dawns and who draws the obedience of all peoples, not just Israel. Only in Matthew do the crowds shout “Hosanna to the Son of David.” He wants us to see a Davidic king from the line of Judah, in whom ancient hope is being fulfilled, beginning this day in Jerusalem.

We also see this prophecy in Matthew 27: “They stripped him and put a scarlet robe on him, and after twisting some thorns into a crown, they put it on his head.” There is the imagery of Genesis 49 again: “He washes his garments in wine, and his robe in the blood of grapes.” While gospel writers use different words for the color of the soldier’s cloak, I love that Matthew evokes this wine-colored “crimson,” highlighting the very messianic image he wants us to see until the very end.

Next, let us behold Jesus as the Go’el, the redeemer.

This continues the work of understanding Jesus through his Jewish identity. The word GOEL in Hebrew means the "next-of-kin"—your closest relative, who held specific responsibilities. Originally, they were the avenger, but also the person who would give their own life or wealth if a family member fell into slavery or debt. They would redeem, rescue, and restore relatives in trouble—socially, economically, or physically.

Over generations, the prophets began to see that in the face of unending human sin, God’s desire for justice and loving-kindness could only be addressed by God Himself. Thus, the "suffering servant" figure emerges: the Go’el, the redeemer who is next-of-kin to both God and humanity: Jesus Christ, Son of the living God and son of Mary.

Look at what Jesus says at the Last Supper: “This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.” The word for "forgiveness" here is the same word used for "release" or "liberty" for captives or slaves; it is debt-cancellation. This is the work of a Go’el, a redeemer intent on liberating the world from the bondage of all manner of sin, acting as the instrument chosen by God to carry out redemption not just for one, but for many.

Jesus understood this was his vocation, but that doesn’t mean it was easy. Three times he wrestles with this sacrifice while his disciples sleep, first saying, “My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me,” and ultimately, “My Father, if this cannot pass unless I drink it, your will be done.” Jesus knew that being the redeemer meant exchanging one’s life for the life of the prisoner. He had already practiced this through his healing ministries, risking his own reputation and physical safety for the well-being of others. When we look at the communion cup—the cup of salvation—do we see the offering of Jesus’ life for our sake, for the satisfaction of justice, and for our full healing, as well as that of the world?

This image leads to our third point: behold our self-giving God, our pioneer of peace.

After he has accepted his unique vocation, Jesus is arrested. In that conflict with the authorities, he says to his disciples: “Put your sword back into its place; for all who take the sword will perish by the sword.” This is the heart of the New Testament: the Lion of Judah turned out to be—surprise!—more like a lamb. We were looking for a roaring lion to wipe away our enemies, but the Lamb of God conquers death and makes a way for peace through humility and self-sacrifice. The Lord knew that we "little lions" would keep killing forever without a different vision.

Remember the Genesis 49 prophecy? It said the ruler would reign until “Shiloh” comes. Shiloh means “rest” and “peace.” It emphasizes that the Messiah is ultimately a rest-giver, a peace-maker. As Andre Trocme says:

“By choosing to save at the cost of his life, Jesus forever joined two realities: redemption and non-violence … Life alone, life given, not life exacted from others, can save life!”

We do not share the exact vocation of Jesus—He alone fulfilled the reconciliation of justice and love on the cross. But we live in an “in-between time” shaped by how he did it. We have the responsibility to live in Christ’s way: with humility, self-giving, and love for every neighbor—even those we call enemies—until He comes again. It is a tall order, but we can live into it because we are covered in his grace.

Lastly, I invite us each to behold the gift of salvation.

Sometimes when we hear this story it can feel very far away, very historic, very removed from our lives. But remember, God does not see as we see. God can see the plight of individual human beings and the needs of the whole world at the same time. Our particular needs for rescue, healing, forgiveness, are not lost in the grandness of God’s vision for shalom over all the earth. 

 

To consider the wonderful mystery of this, let’s look at the words we all say together as a congregation in the midst of the mob-mentality frenzy that leads to Jesus’ death: “His blood be on us and our children!” 

 

These are perhaps the most ironic words in a story full of tragic irony. Lamentably, these words have been used to justify the persecution of Jewish peoples by Christians, a horrific perversion of the gospel for so many reasons, but especially this: what does it mean to be covered by the blood of Jesus? 

 

In Judaism, blood does not equal death, it equals life. Blood was seen as the symbol of life. So to be covered by the blood of Jesus means to be covered by the offering of his very life to God and humanity, the offering of his love and while self to the bitter end, for the salvation and healing of the whole world, but even and especially those of us who have betrayed God, or simply failed God, in a way we feel we could never repair. 

 

This gap, this wound, whatever it is, whatever it feels like in your life, whatever sin or inadequacy or shame or just general sense of failure and unloveablility, unworthiness, is covered: Covered by God’s love and forgiveness, made known to us in the love until death of Jesus, which is to say, his blood. So yes, yes, thanks be to God: his blood is on us, and on our children. It is a twist of justice we never could have anticipated. Grace upon grace, mercy upon mercy. More than we could ask or imagine. 

 

Behold, behold: the Messiah, Jesus Christ, our Lord.