Mosaic of the Races, Charioteer Marcianus in his quadriga (four-horse chariot), holding the victor’s palm branch, 4th Century CE, National Museum of Roman Art, Merida, Spain.

The very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, while others cut branches from the trees and strewed them on the road. Crowds preceding him and those following kept crying out and saying: “Hosanna to the Son of David; blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord; hosanna in the highest.”     Matthew 21:9.

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First, a small note.  Only the gospel of John mentions “palms”. Today’s passage from Matthew simply says branches from the trees. But it would make sense to believe that these were palm leaves, otherwise movement would be, shall we say, challenging for the lowly donkey on which Jesus was sitting (and compare that to the four stallions in the picture above).

So it is very possible that this symbol of victory and triumph was being thrown before the Lord in what could be truly labelled his victorious entry into the holy city of Jerusalem. Laurel leaves and palms, for some ancient reason, where regarded as symbolic of total victory. But, when one thinks about it, palms are extremely hardy, standing up even to hurricanes!  So they are strong, robust and fully able to carry the honorific of victory. And one is tempted to say that it was because of the raising of Lazarus from the dead just days before, was the reason for such a reception for Jesus. Anyone who could conquer death could conquer anything – or anyone. Such as the pagan, unclean, occupying Romans… 

At that time, the almost universal Jewish image of the Messiah – the Anointed One –  the Mashiach – was indeed rooted in Divine Scripture but there always seems to be an element of violence or conquest. Take a look at this list of Scriptural passages said to foretell the Jewish Messiah. He was to re-establish the Kingdom of David, and that could hardly happen peacefully, especially with the Roman Empire at its height! Despite all that, the first Holy Week began with just about everyone waiting for Jesus to make the call to arms! Which did not come. As day followed peaceful day, the high hopes of that first Palm Sunday crowd began to be slowly eliminated, so that by the time of Passover came around, the perfect date for rebirth of David’s Kingdom, no hope was left. No call to arms. (Take a look at this conjectural meeting of Jesus and Barabbas in the Temple at that time). The result was that the people felt they had been fooled! High hope turned into grim revenge and the ecstatic cries of “Hosanna to the Son of David” had turned into “Crucify him!” And all this was foreseen by Jesus, despite his followers’ rejection of such a prediction. And when it happened almost all of them vanished. From his cross Jesus presumably saw nothing but catastrophic failure and utter abandonment. Yet he still trusted in God….

So this week begins the foundational story of our faith. It begins with complete faith in the Lord at his triumphal entry into Jerusalem, then the utter rejection of him by just about everyone, then the worst possible, agonizing, debasing and humiliating public death accompanied by scorn and laughter, and, finally, burial in a stranger’s tomb. And peace. But it also saw the Last Supper, the promise of the Lord to be always with us (“This is my body”), and the example for us all of humility and service recalled in the Maundy Thursday washing of the feet. And then the final empty, hollow peace, represented by the open and deserted tabernacle on the altar, for Catholics a chilling and forceful picture of a world without the Lord. But God had not given up on us all even though we deserved (deserve?) it. It reminds me of a moment when, in the Jesuit seminary where I was a novice in 1974, one day during the 30-day retreat (that all Jesuit novices must experience in order to take vows), I had a chilling, memorable, inexplicable moment. All of a sudden, I knew there was no God! There was a chilling feeling of absence, aloneness. My immediate thought was “What on earth am I doing here?” For someone who suddenly found that there was no God – god – I had no business being where I was. In the Jesuit 30-day retreat, you maintain silence, with the exception of talking to your director who guides you through the experience. Of course I told him about it, and he calmed me down, told me to wait and see… And God’s presence returned. But I have never forgotten that coldness and absence. I wonder if the Lord endured a moment like that on the cross. Heaven knows he had every reason to think so, having obeyed God his Father through everything only to be led to such agony and humiliation. But he maintained his belief, even in the agonizing cry of “My God why have you abandoned me?”  He died and was taken down from the cross and laid in the tomb of a sympathetic stranger and laid to rest.

Entry of Christ into Jerusalem, Pietro Lorenzetti c.1320, Lower Church of St. Francis, Assisi, Italy.                                 

There is almost unanimous scholarly opinion that Jesus deliberately followed the prophecy of Zechariah: “Rejoice greatly, Daughter Zion! Shout, Daughter Jerusalem! See, your king comes to you, righteous and victorious, lowly and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey’ (Zechariah 9:9). Probably many in the crowd would know that prophecy: it would signify the arrival of the Messiah, when all things would change. Except they didn’t…. Except they did….

The Crucifixion, iStock

And the final reflection about this week of weeks. The Last Supper was conducted by Jesus in the full knowledge of what was to happen. He knew that his followers would be horrified at all that. He knew they would think his whole ministry was a disaster, to be forgotten as soon as possible, and their memory of him to be eliminated. So they gathered for that last meal, when he did something they never forgot, despite every reason to. He took a common piece of bread – unleavened, as per the instructions governing the Passover festival – and said “Take, eat, this is my body”. That is a command, a mandate from the Lord, giving this day its “Maundy” title. Then at the end of the meal, he took what was almost certainly a poor grade of wine, and told them to “Drink – this is my blood”. It was a direct consequence of the ceremony on Mount Sinai when the 12 tribes stood around a stone altar, and pledged to follow God foever, and symbolized that by the blood of sacrified animals sprinkled over the altar, symbolizing God, and also over all of them – united to the life of God! But with us Christians, we take God literally into ourselves at Communion!

There’s the huge difference!

 

The Last Supper, Duccio c.1311, Museo dell’Opera Metropolitana del Duomo, Siena, Italy.

 

The Crucifixion, Tintoretto 1565, Sala dell’albergo, Scuola di San Rocco, Venice, Italy.

 

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