“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.” (Matthew 21:5—quoting Zechariah
9:9)
So,
did you hear about the March 28 “No Kings” rally? I’m writing this post before
the event, but I’ll bet it’s going to be one epic shindig—actually a bunch
of epic shindigs all across the country. I don’t have to tell you that lots of
people are pretty upset these days. It seems our government has decided to
start a war without asking our elected officials for permission. There’s also
been no small amount of public ire over the way untrained goons have been
dispatched into our city streets with, apparently, unlimited authority to
harass anyone who speaks English with an accent. The President thinks we should
all bring our birth certificate and passport (assuming you have a
passport) to the polls in order to be allowed to vote. And, of course,
prices—particularly gasoline prices—are shooting up like a bottle rocket dipped
in gasoline. (This last is particularly irksome to Americans as even a ten cent
per gallon increase at the pump is historically received as if it were a crime
against humanity!) All considered, it’s not hard to see why folks have taken to
the streets to register their displeasure.
I
think we can well sympathize with the folks who came out in mass for a
demonstration in that Jerusalem street back in 33 AD. They were none too happy
with their rulers. They were living under occupation by a foreign empire
whose big chief expected to be worshiped like a god. Their governor had no
respect for their culture. Pontius Pilate once robbed their temple treasury for
a building project and had his secret police beat the living snot out of the
people who gathered to protest.[i] Roman taxes were pretty
high, too, and the tax collectors weren’t exactly the most honest civil
servants you could ask for. There was a lot of corruption and a lot of anger in
those streets, and it didn’t take much for a riot to break out.
Every
year, just around the time of the spring equinox, we Christian re-enact one of
those public demonstrations. This one, however, was actually peaceful—but it
was no less political. You know Jesus knew exactly what kind of statement he
was making when he rolled into town on that donkey[ii]. He knew folks would be
familiar with Zechariah 9:9[iii] They’d recognize the
rabbi riding the donkey was doing something they expected a true king to do. At
least that’s what their prophet had told them:
“Rejoice greatly, O daughter Zion!
Shout aloud, O daughter Jerusalem! Lo, your king comes to you; triumphant and
victorious is he, humble and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a
donkey.”
The
folks must’ve caught on to the symbolism because they start shouting “Hosanna
to the Son of David!” “Hosanna” was originally a phrase which meant “Help us,
please!” The people were sending out an S.O.S. indicating they were none too
pleased with the way things were going and they begged Jesus to save them from
the goat rodeo that was life under Roman occupation and the religious
authorities collusion. To drive home the point, they call Jesus the “Son of
David.” David, of course, was Israel’s greatest king back in the good old days
before the Assyrian and Babylonian invasions and the country’s subsequent subjugation
to other neighborhood bullies. Back when Israel was the meanest dog on the
block and didn’t take guff from anyone. Jesus, as we know, was born in the
family of David[iv],
so you can see why people were expecting some pretty radical stuff from him—as if
Jesus’ teachings weren’t radical enough!
All
of this kingly hoopla about Jesus must’ve given the local authorities a real
wedgie. But then, just in case the street demonstration was too subtle for the
ruling class, Jesus entered the temple and performed a pretty wild act of civil
disobedience. He chased out the money folks who were ripping off the peasants and
invited into God’s house the blind and the lame—the folks the authorities looked
at as sinners cursed by God. Jesus then provided these marginalized people free
healthcare.
This
“Pro King” rally back in 33 AD was certainly a political statement in its time.
An abused and discontented people looked at Tiberius Caesar and said, “Not my
emperor!” They were fed up with the cruelty and corruption and greed they saw
in Tiberius, Pilate, Herod, and all the other big shots. What they wanted was a
king who loved them and would rule in mercy and righteousness.
Every
year we in the Church reenact this famous street protest. We wave the palm
branches and sing “Glory, Laud, and Honor” to the one whose kingdom is not of
this world, but whose kingly authority is meant to rule in our hearts. As
obedient subjects of this king, we strive to love everyone, even those with
whom we disagree. We are to practice humility, kindness, forbearance, mercy, charity,
inclusivity, generosity, and hospitality. If the rulers of this world aren’t
into those things, we who are ruled by Christ will press on with them anyway. For
us, the demonstration never ends.
Keep
singing, my friend. Keep believing. Keep on keeping on.
[i]
This story isn’t in the Bible, but was recorded by the historian Flavius
Josephus in his Antiquities 18:60-62)
[ii]
Don’t get too hung up on Matthew’s insistence that there were two donkeys. Jesus
wasn’t a trick rider. This was likely a mistranslation of the Zechariah text
Matthew was quoting.
[iii]
Actually, there was no “9:9” in those days. The Bible verses were numbered
hundreds of years later.
[iv] See
Matthew 1:1-17 and Luke 3:23-38.
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