I have always been a fan of Palm Sunday. Growing up it was one of those Sundays that we as kids got to take a special part in. The week before Palm Sunday we would gather together and make paper palms by rolling up a giant sheet of green paper into a tube and then cutting strips at the end of the tube and pulling back the layers of the rolled paper to create a branch with palm like fronds at one end. The cut pieces would rustle against each other creating a gentle shuffling sound as we would wave them. The next Sunday, all of us children would arrive early and meet in the basement of the church to collect our handmade paper palms and form a procession line. We would then march up the stairs waving our palms above our heads and chanting “Hosanna! Hosanna in the highest!” as we made our way down the center aisle of the sanctuary ushering in the beginning of the long awaited holy week.

And here we are, once again, standing on the edge of holy week, a little more aware than the disciples of what is coming in the days ahead, yet not fully aware of what our journey through this particular holy week will look like, how it will shape us, or how it will influence what it may mean to us as we seek the empty tomb on Easter morning. I say that we are a little more informed than the disciples because we know the events of the coming story as it has been passed down to us through scripture. But even the disciples, in the time of Jesus, were offered insight into what was coming towards Jesus.

In the chapter just before we experience Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem which we are looking at today, we see Jesus himself trying to tell the disciples what is about to happen:

Mark 10:32-34

They were on their way up to Jerusalem, with Jesus leading the way. The disciples were baffled by this move, while the other followers were afraid. Taking the Twelve aside once more, Jesus began to tell them what was going to happen.

“We are on our way up to Jerusalem where the Promised One will be handed over to the chief priests and the religious scholars. Then the Promised One will be condemned to death and handed over to the Gentiles to be mocked, spat upon, flogged and finally killed. Three days later the Promised One will rise.”

We see here that the disciples weren’t totally unaware of what was about to happen, but they certainly didn’t fully grasp what Jesus was telling them – it hadn’t come to fruition yet and was complex to really accept. I imagine they carried questions and confusion with themselves about was Jesus was alluding to – the text even tells us they were baffled by this choice of Jesus to head towards Jerusalem. Yet, even in their state of hesitation and concern, they were willing to walk with Jesus on the path he was taking and they were willing to participate in whatever Jesus asked them to do…even stealing a donkey.

Okay so it wasn’t exactly stealing, but it does seem to be a bit of an odd moment when Jesus pulls two of his disciples aside and, with seeming foresight, tells them where they can go to fetch a young donkey, even offering them words of response to give to anyone who may question their actions:

Mark 11:1-3

As they approached Jerusalem and came to Bethphage and Bethany at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent off two of the disciples with this instruction: “Go to the village straight ahead of you, and as soon as you enter it you will find tethered there a colt on which no one has ridden. Untie it and bring it back. If anyone says to you, ‘Why are you doing that?’ say, ‘The Rabbi needs it, but will send it back very soon.’”

An odd request, perhaps, but one that the disciples were willing to participate in. And as they go through the motions they find things just as Jesus has told them:

Mark 11:4

So they went off, and finding a colt tethered out on the street near a gate, they untied it.

It is at this point in the story that we learn that it isn’t just the disciples that are active participants in the outcome of this moment. There are bystanders in the village aware and alert and not hesitant to ask questions of strangers coming into their village and doing strange things:

Mark 11:5

Some of the bystanders said to them, “What do you mean by untying that colt?”

This is just what Jesus warned the disciples about – that there may be people who ask why they are doing what they are doing – and when this moment arises the answer the disciples give is what Jesus has told them to say: “The Rabbi needs it, but will send it back very soon.”

The villagers now have a choice to make and indeed they even have the power, in this moment, to put a stop to the whole thing. They can block the borrowing of the donkey by these strangers, or they can choose to take a chance on participating in this mysterious moment by lending the colt to, what they have been told, is the service of the Lord.  They choose participation and in that choice they become part of something much bigger than themselves, bigger than the small act of lending these strangers a donkey.

This morning a group of us processed with palms from the Church of the Brethren to HMC. As we walked down the street waving our palms branches in the air, I once again experienced the reminder that we too are part of something much bigger than ourselves, bigger than our own congregation here at HMC, and bigger than the broader Mennonite Church. As we walked up East-West Hwy we were passed by many cars and it was interesting to observe the responses of the people in those cars. Some people were oblivious to our group, eyes fixed on the road they just kept on driving, taking no notice. Some folks looked at us with confusion and curiosity, uncertain of why there were people walking down the street waving plants around. And then there were those who clearly recognized what we were up to and they smiled and waved. It was in those moments of recognition that I felt connected to a much bigger community and story. I was reminded again that there are people of many different denominations and Christian faith practices gathering together today to reflect on and celebrate Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem. It was a reminder of the cord of connection that lives in us through Christ and that that connection is present every day, not just on Palm Sunday, whether we are aware of it or not. We are participants in the ongoing presence of Christ in the world.

For those gathered at the celebration in Jerusalem as Jesus entered the gate on a donkey, there must have been a similar moment of recognition and awareness. On one level there would have been recognition and the assumption that a powerful leader coming into town for it wasn’t uncommon for there to be parades such as this held by Roman officials to spread the news of military victory and to display the spoils of war. But this parade was different. This leader doesn’t come in on a decorated and powerful military horse, he arrives on a colt, an inexperienced donkey arrayed only in the decoration of worn and tattered cloaks. Jesus doesn’t ride high above the crowd proclaiming power and looking down on the people. He rides at eye-level, sharing the experience with those on the ground.

And those on the ground welcome him joyously, spreading cloaks and leafy branches on the ground before him and celebrating him with shouts of:

“Hosanna! Blessed is the One who comes in the name of our God! Blessed is the coming reign of our ancestor David! Hosanna in the highest!”

I also imagine that, beyond the cultural power parade, another layer of recognition in this moment was a sort of 1^st century scripture spotting opportunity for those gathered in the crowd. In this moment they may have taken out their cell phones to snap a picture of what they recognized as a reflection of Zechariah 9:9:

Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion! Shout aloud, O daughter of Jerusalem! Behold, your king is coming to you: righteous and having salvation is he, humble and mounted on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.

Here was a leader, a king, possibly the Messiah finally making a grand entrance in Jerusalem. Seeing and celebrating this, how could a religious community living under the occupation of Rome not be excited and full of anticipation and expectation about what would happen next?

But what happens next does not follow any expected notion of revolution. In Mark’s account of this story, Jesus, this newly celebrated leader goes to the Temple, looks around and since it is late in the afternoon already, heads back out to Bethany with his friends to spend the night. Pretty anticlimactic. Matthew and Luke’s accounts of this story are that Jesus’ entry is immediately followed by Jesus sweeping into the temple and driving out the moneychangers – which may feel a bit more satisfying if revolution is what you are after. But Mark’s account helps us see that the revolution at hand is not going to play out as anyone expects or plans, and that it is much bigger than any single action Jesus can take in the next moment.

This past week my brain kept flashing to several images of mixed-media works of art by American artist Jasper Johns that I saw at the Walker Art Museum when we lived in Minnesota. The paintings, as best as I can describe them are a textured grey that looks like a chalkboard that has been heavily used and then erased with a very dusty eraser and then has a piece of hanging string connected at two points on either side of the border making a swoop across the canvas. I was trying to figure out why I kept thinking of these pieces over and over this week when it struck me, oh, right, this is the beginning of Holy Week and that swoop of the string is one of the shapes of this week to me. Holy week is a week that starts with a party and ends with a party and has this tremendous valley in between them.

After realizing what my brain was trying to clue me in on, I looked up the works online and found that they were from a series called: Catenary. I had no idea what that word meant so I looked it up [just out of curiosity, how many of you have already looked it up today since getting to church and seeing the sermon title in the bulletin?] I found that a catenary is the curve that a hanging chain, cable, or rope assumes under its own weight when supported only at its ends. [Like this – rope example] Indeed, seeing the name of the series of artworks and then knowing what the word meant helped me understand that Jasper Johns was playing with the nature of catenaries by hanging the ends at different heights on the canvas to capture a range of resulting curves. A range that resonates within me as a reflection of the ups and downs of life.

We all experiences hills and valleys in our lives and they vary in intensity and duration. Jesus, in his humanity experienced them too. Often our practice of faith is to invite Christ to journey with us and our communities as we step into the unknowns of each moment. This week I invite you to step into the journey of Jesus and the disciples. Celebrate today as he makes his way into Jerusalem, stand with the disciples on the edge of the unknown of what that entry might bring, listen to the teachings of Jesus as he spends time in the temple, be aware of the discomfort of those around him as he challenges their understandings and expectations, share in the Passover meal, the remembrance of a history of hardship and the goodness of God, wait and pray with Jesus in the garden, knowing that he too made a choice to participate in something that was much bigger than himself, be fearful and grieve with disciples when Jesus dies.

In this way, in choosing to traverse the curve of the coming catenary, may you experience anew the unexpected nature of the revolutionary love of God that was, is and will continue to be.