Palm Sunday
March 15-16, 2008
Philippians 2:5-11; Matthew 26:14-27:66
Hillary T. West
The Saving Grace of Betrayal
This is a beautiful time of the year, isn’t it? All kinds of blossoms are popping out of the ground. Buds are bursting from the trees. Most days, we can feel the warmth of the sun, and marvel at the blueness of the sky. Spring is in the air to remind us of new possibilities, new beginnings, change. So, it seems only appropriate to be throwing our hands high, waving palms, in great celebration of the glory of how Jesus once again enters into our lives. There’s much for us to give thanks and to raise our voices. It’s a good day to shout for joy and rejoice at how Jesus gives us newness of life.
Now, in a moment we’re going to hear the story of Jesus’ final days. We call it the Passion because it is the story of Jesus’ suffering that brings us redemption. So, while we begin our Palm Sunday worship with celebration, we’re immediately tossed into a tension that results in deep sorrow. You’ve heard us say this before. Today, and this week, as we remember Jesus’ last days, we’re on an emotional roller coaster until we sing for joy at his resurrection. So, come along and let’s begin the journey.
Imagine if you will this scene. More than 2 million pilgrims are gathering in Jerusalem. It’s the most holy time of the year, the Passover feast; the gathering to remember how God enters into our lives and frees us from our burdens and saves us from distress. In first century Palestine, formal processionals are common. And, it is especially common for helmeted, leather clad, weapon waving, Roman officials to come thundering into the city at major Jewish festivals just to remind us of who has the power. Now, there’s another processional coming into Jerusalem, exhibiting a very different kind of fanfare. While Pilate and his soldiers boom in from the west, Jesus and his peasant followers, come in peacefully from the east.
Jesus’ procession is not of imperial influence. He rides in on a donkey, and a colt accompanies. Donkeys are known to be animals of peace while horses, ridden by Roman soldiers, are warriors of war. Jesus is a king not of dominance and oppression, but a king of love, who promises hope; a king who honors the forgotten, the suffering and the lost. As is the custom when victors enter, pilgrims throw their garments along the path and wave branches in the air. Stirred up, and excited, they cry out, “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord…Hosanna in the highest.” Their cries are not just of joy, but of desperation. Hosanna in Hebrew means, “save us now!” Jesus, you are the one who will redeem us from our suffering.
This dual entrance into Jerusalem is not just Pilate’s entrance. It’s not just Jesus’ entrance. It’s our entrance too. Our entrance into a kingdom life of love and forgiveness. But, not without some challenge. So, we imagine that we’ll jockey back and forth, between mistrust and belief, denial and surrender, indifference and compassion. We will walk hand and hand with betrayal. So, we enter. And we choose how we are to follow. It’s a hard story learning that this Son of God, who comes to love us so much, is willing to give his life for us. A story where we may well, through him, be compelled to examine our own betrayals and redemptions as we turn to trust in how God works in our lives.
In a moment we’ll hear Judas betraying Jesus by negotiating a deal with the chief priests, for a mere 30 shekels, the common price of the life of a slave. He’ll hand him over to his tormentors and his death as he plants the kiss of betrayal.
Judas’ reason for betraying Jesus may be simple greed, or jealousy. Or, his betrayal may be a desperate desire to compel Jesus to prove himself. Regardless, he hands him over. Betrayal comes again. In the garden of Gethsemene, the disciples will fail Jesus in his deepest need as he asks them to stay awake; to be present with him while he struggles to submit to God’s will. They’re not up to the challenge. Wearied, they fall asleep. Even, Peter, Jesus’ rock, who promises always to be faithful, betrays him. When asked, he denies being with Jesus. In fact, he vows that he doesn’t even know the man. And, imagine standing in a crowd, caught up in the commotion, agitated and encouraged by the chief priests; only too happy to betray Jesus responding to Pilate, when he asks, “what should be done with the arrested Jesus.?” “Crucify him,” is the answer, all too easily sending him off to die like a common criminal. Whipped and beaten, soldiers ridicule him and spit in his face. Jesus hangs on the cross between two bandits. Passers-by are contemptuous of him, this Son of God who comes to save. Over and over again, Jesus is denied, forgotten, betrayed, and yet, he never fails us. He doesn’t lead us astray, or deliver us to the enemy, or desert us in our time of need. He knows that in his obedience and his cry of anguish, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me,” that his God, is our God; always loving, saving, even in our most gruesome suffering.
Here lies the irony, the paradox of this Holy Week. Through the pain and persecution of Jesus, life is made new; resurrected. Jesus’ journey to the cross is our journey too. In our suffering and pain, we are not abandoned. We are given the very promise of hope. Betrayal converts to a willingness to risk love; denial is refused in favor of God’s grace; indifference is crowded out by compassion.
The Greek for the word betrayal is, paradoe. It means to hand over, to deliver up for judgment. Paradoe, the very same word, also means, to entrust, to commend, to commit, to risk. So we find that Jesus is our betrayer. Graciously, risking everything, entrusting his life to God, commending his Spirit, committing his whole self, Jesus gives himself over to the task of our redemption. This Jesus who loves us more than we can begin to imagine- this Jesus is our betrayer. And, this is what he betrays. He betrays suffering and pain, ignorance, and neglect, and indifference, and disappointment; he betrays fear and doubt. He brings Judas to repentance. Peter stops denying and finds the courage to build the church. Even the doubting disciples do their best to go out and spread the Good News. And we too are called to serve as betrayers.
But, first, we’re left with Jesus’ followers grieving over Jesus, buried in the tomb; hope covered by a stone. As we hear the story, our sorrow is profound as we imagine the surrounding pain. But, we know what Jesus’ followers do not yet know.
We know how Jesus takes our pain to the cross and then, to the tomb where it is forever buried, forgiven, forgotten. How in new life in Jesus, we too can trust again, risk recreating those relationships that have been so destroyed; commit ourselves to the promise of his love, and commend our very souls to his healing presence in our lives.
This week, we take the journey with Jesus, and we may well walk in those places of our own betrayal; and ask ourselves, “what will we betray for Jesus?” We may come to the cross. But, we can know this: the death of our suffering has already been made for us; the price paid. We are an Easter people, a resurrection people; caught up in the sure and certain truth of God in Christ always saving and bringing new life. We journey with the same mind of Jesus Christ; a mind and heart that calls us to hand over our love; committing to his power in our lives, entrusting in his Spirit of grace and mercy in one another.
Because of this week, we can risk betraying and journey into the welcome arms of Jesus’ undying love for us. Now, let’s hear the story and begin the journey…
