“Palm Sunday Revisited” - Mark 11:1-11
March 16, 2008
Dr. Michael C. Yarbrough

          Did you read the Kansas City Star this week?  On Wednesday, on the “World Watch” page, was this two-sentence notice: “Ranital, India: Hundreds of Tibetan exiles pressed ahead Tuesday with a march from northern India to their Himalayan homeland, defying a police ban on the demonstration against Beijing’s 2008 Olympics.  The march, which started Monday, was expected to take six months.”

          Can you imagine believing in something so strongly that you would leave your job and family – and walk across a country – into the highest mountains in the world?  Can you imagine starting a journey like this, knowing that it will take six months of walking?  Can you imagine doing it when the police and the government have decided to try to stop you?  What were those people thinking?  What do they hope to accomplish?

          The Tibetans are a people in exile.  They fled their country when it was invaded by China less than a lifetime ago.  Their holy sites were desecrated, their people were massacred, and they lost their rights to govern themselves.  Those who could escape are living in exile, homeless and voiceless and yearning to go home again.  No wonder they march.  Through their walking they are hoping to remind people of what has happened to them.  They are hoping to call world attention and pressure on China to restore their homeland and culture.  They are walking for justice.

          In February, I went to Haiti to work with the National Council of Spiritual Churches of Haiti.  While I was there, I discovered some things about the relationship between Haitian Church and state.  In Haiti, the government decides who can be a pastor – not the church.  In Haiti, the Catholic Church receives annual funds from the government.  The Protestant churches do not.  In Haiti, the Catholic Church receives land from the government to build churches and schools.  The Protestant churches do not.  In Haiti, it is illegal for the police to arrest a Catholic priest.  But it is legal to arrest a Protestant pastor.

          These laws and practices were begun in the early 1800’s when Haiti became an independent nation.  They are leftovers from the influence of French colonial slave masters who were Catholic.  Even though they are only 5% of the population, the ruling elite controls 95% of Haiti’s wealth.  They hold onto their money and keep their political power through their collaboration with the Catholic Church and the government.  95% of the people of Haiti live in extreme poverty.  These who are struggling to survive are generally uneducated, own no property, and most are jobless.  These poor ones – these unrepresented ones – these voiceless ones – are predominantly members of small, poor Protestant congregations.  In fact, about 60% of the country is Protestant and 35% is Catholic.

          But something is happening in Haiti.  On July 26th, there is going to be a march in Port au Prince (the capitol city).  The leaders of the National Council of Spiritual Churches of Haiti are organizing the pastors and members of their 5,000 congregations to walk the streets to the national palace where their national congress meets.  Get this: their goal is to have somewhere between 100,000 and 200,000 people walking in their “March for Equality!”  Think about it.  Wrap your mind around those numbers: 100,000 to 200,000.  Can you even imagine that many people in one place – in a political demonstration – waving banners – singing hymns – marching peacefully for a cause?  I don’t think I can.

          What are those Haitian Christians thinking?  What do they think they can accomplish?  They will be marching for equal protection under the law for all churches.  They will be marching for recognition by the government.  They will be marching for the oppressed majority who are hungry – and poor – and uneducated – and have no medical care.  That’s a pretty worthy cause, don’t you think?

          Times haven’t changed all that much, have they?  Crowds have marched for thousands of years to get the notice of the powerful – to have a voice – to address injustice.  One day, many years ago, five days before Passover, there were two political demonstrations marching through the gates of ancient Jerusalem.

          The one that entered a western gate was a military parade, resplendent with beautiful banners, flashing metal weapons, and loud music.  It was a show of power by the occupying army of Rome.  They were coming into Jerusalem as a show of force when so many Jews returned to the city for this highest of holy days.  The parade was a reminder of who was in charge and a warning to potential troublemakers that no show of nationalism or disturbance of the peace would be tolerated.

          Most of the crowd in attendance would have been sullen and resentful.  They didn’t like being reminded that they were an occupied nation and that Roman rule was oppressive.  The only people glad to see the demonstration were the Jewish ruling class (that were in power only because they did whatever the Romans wanted), and also the very wealthy temple rulers (appointed by the Roman governor and only staying in power because the Romans put them there).  Both political rulers and religious rulers collaborated with the Roman government, and everybody knew it.

          That day, there was a second political demonstration entering Jerusalem.  It entered the city through an eastern gate.  It was a much smaller parade.  There were no soldiers – just fishermen and women and children.  There was no long processional – just a single man riding on a young colt.  There were no tall, colorful banners – just some leafy branches tossed in the road in front of the donkey or waved over their heads.  No trumpets and drums were playing – just some religious hymns sung by the small crowd.

          Jesus’ procession was not a spontaneous walk to town.  He chose the time and place.  He pre-arranged it with the owner of a young colt.  He sent two of his disciples into the village with careful instructions.  He told them to find the colt and even what to say to anyone who approached them.  The two disciples told the villagers Jesus’ words, and then returned with the colt.

          Jesus had set this situation up as a planned political demonstration.  His Palm Sunday parade was a counter-demonstration to the Roman show of force and domination.  It was a challenge to the wealthy Jewish elite who supported and cooperated with the Roman occupational government.  It was a parade for justice – for the poor – for the voiceless – for the oppressed – and for God.

          Are there any reasons for Palm Sunday parades anymore?  Of course there are!  The Tibetan march to the Himalayas is a planned political demonstration.  It is a public reminder of the invasion, oppression, and destruction of their land by Chinese invaders.  It is a march for justice for the voiceless.  The Haitian march in July is, too, a planned demonstration.  It is a march for equal treatment for all Christians and churches under Haitian law.  It is an opportunity to give voice to those who have no voice in government.

          The world has not really changed all that much from Jesus’ day has it?  There still is injustice.  There still are invasions by foreign powers.  There still is inequality.  There still are the voiceless and the poor and the oppressed!

          Today, let’s remember why Jesus rode.  He rode for the poor – for the common men and women – for the voiceless and oppressed of his time – and all times.  As his disciples, we need to think about his procession and why he did it.  As his disciples, maybe we need to open our eyes and see our own reasons to be in a parade – or a demonstration – or a march – such as his.

          Let’s pray.

          O Lord, the gospels show us that Jesus’ way was hard – that total obedience to your will takes courage and conviction.  Open our eyes to see how your children are treated even in the world in this time.  We ask you to be patient with us.  Teach us.  Show us.  Lead us.  In his name we ask it.

Amen.