Richard Davenport
March 24, 2024 – Palm Sunday
Mark 11:1-10 (Palm Sunday Gospel)
Back in the first century BC, a man named Gaius Julius Caesar was very busy. He had an informal alliance of sorts with a man named Pompey and the two of them were working together to amass power for themselves through the combination of politics, wealth, fame, and achievement. Caesar was known for his skills as an administrator and as a military general. He had been sent north to fight a series of wars on the frontier, where foreigners were threatening the stability of the Roman nation.
Caesar was totally successful and the news of his military triumph was already spreading far and wide. If it’s one thing Romans love, it’s a great military victory. As when the soldiers returned to the States after WWII, Romans would throw the conquering army a celebration, complete with a parade, musical fanfare, laurel crown for the general and other awards for various notable soldiers, a monument memorializing the victory for all time, and all of the pomp and circumstance that the most powerful city in the western world could put together. Caesar was going to get all of that and more. He was poised to become one of the most dominant forces in Rome.
But, he wasn’t in Rome. He was marching his army back from the frontier. While he had been away, his associate, Pompey, had changed allegiances and was now working with the Roman Senate. Pompey was pursuing his own path to power and Caesar’s triumph would make him a nigh unstoppable force in Rome. Pompey couldn’t allow that to happen.
Fortunately, Pompey had a plan. Standard procedure called for each returning general to stop some distance from Rome and wait. He would then receive a summons from the Roman Senate officially declaring the end of the military campaign. The general would be removed from authority over the army and could ride home with them to receive his honors. For a general to do otherwise was more or less an act of treason against the Senate and carried the appropriate consequences.
Pompey would use this procedure to his benefit. Caesar would be divested of his military authority and could then be dealt with in other ways. When Caesar received the Senate’s ultimatum, he understood the situation he was in and that his ally had turned against him. From his perspective, his only choice was to force Pompey’s hand and the only way to do that was at the head of his army.
So, Caesar made the decision not to set aside his authority and instead marched his army across the Rubicon River, the boundary that formally defined the territory of Rome proper. The end result of his decision was Pompey’s defeat and Caesar’s rise to become the first de facto ruler of Rome.
Less than a hundred years later, we find this passage in Mark 11. There are a number of differences in the story. The setting is different, Jerusalem vs. Rome. The people are different, Jesus vs. the priests and Pharisees instead of Caesar against Pompey and the Senate. But there are also a number of similarities. In both cases the hero was returning from a victorious campaign to receive the glory he was due. In both cases the enemy was working at the center of power to turn the people against him. In both cases, the hero takes the decisive action to go forward anyway. In both cases, the enemy is eventually successful and destroys the hero.
Reading and pondering passages from Scripture like this, you eventually arrive at the question of application. Where do I fit into this? How does this apply to me? Is this meant to be a story of hope and triumph? Is it meant to be a cautionary tale? Well, I’m not Jesus. That’s pretty clear. Thankfully, I’m also not an avowed unbeliever like the priests and Pharisees. That puts me somewhere in the middle. That puts me in the crowds.
That’s a good thing, right? I’m not actively plotting to kill Jesus. I’m receiving him with praise and cheering him on. That’s the place to be, right? It would certainly seem to be the right place. I definitely don’t want to be lumped together with the Pharisees. I know how that’s going to turn out. No, I’ll hang out with the crowds here and cheer Jesus on.
But even there, I know how things will turn out. The crowds start off in the right place, cheering for Jesus as he enters the city, but soon they will be gathered together shouting for his execution. The crowds look good now, but that’s only temporary. Within a few short days all of this will be forgotten. Jesus goes from being the triumphant hero to the worst criminal imaginable.
Julius Caesar crosses the Rubicon to confront his enemies, Pompey and his allies in the Senate who would strip him of what he saw as his rightful due. Jesus strides into Jerusalem, the heart of his enemies’ power, to confront them. Not the priests and Pharisees, they aren’t the real enemies. They’re the servants, the minions. Jesus goes to confront Satan and all of those he has gathered to his cause. He goes to take on sin and wipe it away. He goes to death, to strike at it from behind the lines.
Whether you were a Roman citizen watching Caesar ride into Rome at the head of an army, whether you were an average person in Jerusalem, watching Jesus ride into town as the rightful heir to the throne of David, whether you’re an average person living in the modern day, there are things you can’t change. Regardless of whether you like him or not, whether you think he’s justified or not, you as an average Roman citizen have no ability to change whether Julius Caesar rides into town. He’s going to do it no matter what. Whether you like him or not, whether you think he’s justified or not, Jesus is going to ride into town, and nothing you do will change that. It’s just going to happen. But, how you react to it, well that’s a different thing.
Caesar arguably did a lot of good for Rome and its people, but he’s still a pagan through and through. You could probably find good reasons to not want him in charge of things. None of that holds up when talking about Jesus. The perfect man, the perfect king, the Creator in the flesh, the one who does nothing for his own self interest, but always works to care for those around him.
The only reason to reject Jesus is because you think you can take his authority and power for yourself. But that was never a possibility. There’s never an option to take God’s place. The only result that can come from getting rid of Jesus is to watch everything you love and hold dear crumble and decay.
Why would you ever choose that? Why would you ever join with the people trying to put to death God himself, as if that would ever be to your benefit? Why would you destroy the one who is trying to defeat your enslaver? Jesus is the only one with the power to put an end to Satan, to death, and to all of the effects of sin. Why would you ever want anything else?
And yet we do. All the time. The people who cheer Jesus on become the same ones who want him to go away for good. If I asked you which side you wanted to be on, there’s the side you’d like to be on, and then there’s the side you usually find yourself on.
What do you do with that? We know how things turn out. Caesar’s adversaries carried out their plot and assassinated him, thus putting an end to his life and ambitions. Jesus’ adversaries likewise carried out their plot and got him executed. But, strangely, that wasn’t the end of him. He came back. Caesar reigned over Rome for some years, but was brought to an end. Jesus reigns over the whole world and he lives forever and ever. Even if you don’t like Jesus, you can’t get rid of him. People have already tried that. All of his enemies are going to come under his judgment and he rules with a level of authority not even a Roman dictator could hope to have. That means if you end up on the wrong side of him, you WILL face that judgment too.
In situations where a plot against someone fails, there are inevitably those who throw themselves down and plead for mercy. They plead, not because they thought they did something wrong, but because they tried to do something evil and got caught. That sort of thing might fool human rulers and authorities from time to time, but it isn’t going to fool the ruler of all creation, the one who knows every human heart and mind.
Here on Palm Sunday, Jesus has crossed his own Rubicon. He is bringing the fight to Satan in his very lair and Satan is now martialing all of his forces against him. Jesus means to unseat Satan forever and Satan has no intention of going quietly. This is all going to happen regardless of what the crowds do or what we do.
But our response to what Jesus does is something we have to answer for, whether for good or for ill. There are the days when we are at peace with God, when we give thanks for his protection and guidance, when we recognize how much he has blessed us and we give thanks for all he does. Then there are days we allow no one to rule over us. We are our own king or queen, we make the rules and laws and are beholden to no one.
Why should Jesus let us off the hook? Such fickle citizens like us who cheer him on one day and then cheer on his enemies the next aren’t going to make it. At any moment, he could strike down with the full weight of his divine wrath and wipe us away and we would deserve it.
So why doesn’t he? After all, he is the one who declares to the world, “Vengeance is mine, I will repay.” Yet, he is also the one who says, “The Lord, the Lord, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness.”
The Lord and king who comes to crush his enemies first comes to have mercy. We cheer him on one day and then curse him the next. He should round us up with all of his enemies and destroy us, but he chooses not to.
We fight a daily battle, but it isn’t against him but ourselves. Our own sin and the promptings of Satan constantly seek to lure us to the side of Jesus’ enemies and many times we give in. We aren’t alone in the battle though. Jesus himself fights on our behalf and the Spirit is constantly at work to drive away the taint of Satan. We ask the king for mercy, not because we have been caught, but because we know we have done wrong. We have seen our faults and know we have no excuse. As we confess, that we justly deserve his temporal and eternal punishment, but that we are also heartily sorry for them and sincerely repent of them and pray for his boundless mercy.
Jesus, in his rule as king, shows the extent of his mercy by going to the cross. He shows how far he is willing to go to not have to send his wrath on us. We see where he goes and what he does and we know he does it for us, and for that, we should be humbled. We are ashamed of what we do on a daily basis, and we are grateful for his boundless mercy.
The king comes riding into Jerusalem. He comes into his enemy’s stronghold, because that’s where his people are. He knows we are enslaved to a cruel master who cares nothing for us. He knows we don’t have any chance of escape. He knows sin and Satan have made it so that we don’t even know how to live as good people. So Jesus acts decisively. He rides in, not for the fame and accolades, not for the political power and wealth, but for his people. He takes the fight to the enemy so that his people may be saved.
We know that we do a pretty bad job of being his people. Jesus’ most loyal followers still fight against him constantly. But he is a king of mercy and grace and he knows our plight. His mercy is always there for those who confess what they have done and the Spirit is always there helping us to do better. His mercy is truly boundless, because it is an extension of his love.