From the Daily Lectionary for Friday/Saturday in the Third Week after Pentecost
Matthew 20:29-34; 21:1-11
As they were leaving Jericho, a large crowd followed him. There were two blind men sitting by the roadside. When they heard that Jesus was passing by, they shouted, “Lord, have mercy on us, Son of David!” The crowd sternly ordered them to be quiet; but they shouted even more loudly, “Have mercy on us, Lord, Son of David!” Jesus stood still and called them, saying, “What do you want me to do for you?” They said to him, “Lord, let our eyes be opened.” Moved with compassion, Jesus touched their eyes. Immediately they regained their sight and followed him.
When they had come near Jerusalem and had reached Bethphage, at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them, “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. If anyone says anything to you, just say this, ‘The Lord needs them.’ And he will send them immediately.” This took place to fulfill what had been spoken through the prophet, saying,
“Tell the daughter of Zion,
Look, your king is coming to you,
humble, and mounted on a donkey,
and on a colt, the foal of a donkey.”
The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them; they brought the donkey and the colt, and put their cloaks on them, and he sat on them. A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. The crowds that went ahead of him and that followed were shouting,
“Hosanna to the Son of David!
Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!
Hosanna in the highest heaven!”
When he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil, asking, “Who is this?” The crowds were saying, “This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee.”
Everything now in Matthew points to Jesus’ confrontation with the powers that be in Jerusalem. Jesus and his disciples set off from Jericho on the thirty mile trek through the Judean desert, scaling three thousand feet of elevation, towards Jerusalem. But before he leaves Jericho he encounters two blind men who beg him for healing. We are told that Jesus had “compassion” for them. The word for compassion in the Greek is not just about feeling sorry for someone. It is a visceral response, a moment of profound empathy. It is this compassion, this empathy from the gut, that drives Jesus and his disciples forward in their ministry. Jesus and his followers have been among the “people,” particularly the poor, the sick, the mentally disturbed, the unclean, preaching the “Good News” that God is with them. This isn’t just a philosophy that makes for good conversation in the salons of academia. Their ministry is among the people in intimate solidarity. I suspect that it was the ongoing physical presence with the suffering of his world that so moved Jesus to such a response, and that motivated him to confront the powerful elite who had turned a blind eye to the abject suffering of the people. There is power, revelation, in the streets.
The very next scene has Jesus entering the streets of the city, dubbed by the tradition as his “triumphal” entry into Jerusalem; as if the entire population of the city was rallying to proclaim Jesus king. The truth of the matter is that Jesus was probably not all that well known in Jerusalem. His ministry and fame were situated chiefly in the North of Palestine, in and around Galilee. I think this entrance into Jerusalem is a political protest. It was protocol of Royalty in the ancient world to enter a city on purebred steeds in elaborate procession. Palm branches would have been waved in their honor, whether they were honorable or not. This so-called triumphal entry is a parody aimed at the arrogance of the rulers of Israel and their vassals. Jesus enters not on a magnificent steed, but on a donkey. This is the resistance taking their agenda to the streets.
So, given our own time, I think it is notable that just about all justice movements, at least the ones I know about, finally and necessarily end up in the streets, among the people for whom the movement advocates. Think of the movement for independence from the British crown in India, led by Mahatma Gandhi; the abolishment of Apartheid in South Africa; the Civil Rights movement in the United States; women’s suffrage; and now Black Lives Matter. All of these appeals for justice finally found their efficacy by coming down from the lofty and venerable idea of equality, into the solidarity and reality of the streets. There is a mystery here; a communion, as it were. We are physical beings. The truth comes from our gut, and when we gather as a people in solidarity for the truth, there is just no power that can stand against it. We could call it the power of Love, which always responds to the world’s hurt from the viscera, something more forceful and resonant than intellect. Or we could call it presence, the presence of human energy, bodies and souls in solidarity of Spirit, a critical mass, as it were, that generates the energy of transforming love for our fellow brothers and sisters. Call it what you will, but there is untold strength in the gathering of souls and bodies.
So, good people, keep as an option going into the streets. It may just come to that in this time of corruption and injustice, this pandemonium (which literally means “all demons”). It may be time for “the holy and reasonable sacrifice of our souls and bodies” for the good of the cause of God. We struggle, at least I do, with the question, “what shall we do!?” It may be our time to enter the streets in radical solidarity with the victims of our hijacked democracy, our world that slouches towards plutocracy. Now may be the time for a new entry, through an opening portal of clarity, bearing new life, bearing empathy from the gut, into the New Jerusalem, a city humming with possibility.
A Prayer for the Mission of the Church (BCP p. 816)
Everliving God, whose will it is that all should come to you through your Son Jesus Christ: Inspire our witness to him, that all may know the power of his forgiveness and the hope of his resurrection; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit one God, now and for ever. Amen.
