With Jesus into Jerusalem
March 16, 2008
Jonathan Slater
Text:
Psalm 118:1-2, 19-29
Matthew 21:1-11
Isaiah 50:4-9
Today we celebrate Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem; we have seen a glimpse of what that day might have looked like from the perspective of a range of characters:
There is Mary, Jesus’ Mother, worrying that her son has gone too far this time – That such a public, political statement, and in Jerusalem at the time of Passover, can bring about only trouble. If the Pharisees were suspicious of him when he was attracting crowds in Galilee, just imagine how they will respond to this spectacle – how they will treat her first-born son.
There are the disciples, full of anticipation that Jesus is finally showing the world who he is – the divinely appointed King of Israel, coming to reign in Jerusalem. This is good news to the inner circle – Surely this means comfy senate appointments for them.
There is the hopeful crowd. They have followed Jesus around Galilee, and now down to Jerusalem, hopeful that he will be the one to deliver them from Rome and restore the Nation of Israel to its former glory – anticipating the coming conflict and victory.
There are also critical onlookers, skeptical about what Jesus true aims are, whether going to Jerusalem he will be brushing them aside – Worried that the days of blessings to the poor in spirit will soon be over, replaced by just another King – a king like the any other.
And yet, there is also Mary Magdalene. She seems to have some idea that what the critical onlookers fear, and what Peter and the crowd hope for, may not be what Jesus is on about after all –
To this cast of characters, I want to add two others. These are the two blind men who sit just outside the boundaries of today’s reading; on Palm Sunday they were likely in the crowd somewhere, but were no longer distinctly recognizable in the narrative.
Immediately before Palm Sunday, however, they were two blind beggars sitting outside Jericho; as Jesus left Jericho on his way to Jerusalem, it is only these two blind men who announce that he is the Son of David.
From Matthew 20:29-34
“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 to 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.”
On first glance, the story of the two blind men outside Jericho is unremarkable. It is almost identical to the story of two blind men whom Jesus heals much earlier in Matthew’s gospel, in Matthew 9. In both cases, there are two blind men who address Jesus using the messianic title “Son of David”. In both cases, Jesus asks the blind men what they want, and in response to their request for sight, Jesus touches their eyes and their eyes are opened.
In Matthew 9, however, Jesus tells the two newly-seeing men not to tell anyone that the Son of David has opened their eyes. But in Matthew 20, it is the crowd which orders the blind men to be quiet. Why? Why did the crowd want to shut these two blind men up?
It’s impossible to say for sure: Perhaps the crowd knew that what the blind men said was true, that Jesus was indeed the Son of David, the Messianic King on his way to Jerusalem, but were worried that these two men were jumping the gun a bit; “Wait a sec – We’re supposed to announce that when he entering Jerusalem, not when he’s leaving Jericho.”
Perhaps they thought that if Jesus Royal Messianic identity was announced publicly, the established political and religious authorities would take steps to stop Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem before he even got to there.
Or perhaps the crowd was simply too caught up in the anticipation of what they thought Jesus might do in Jerusalem; caught up with the expectation and excitement of the coming confrontation with the temple establishment, and all those who made peace with the Romans. Caught up in the expectation that Jesus would soon be enthroned as God’s anointed King over Israel. And being caught up in the excitement of Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem, they may not have wanted to stop for two blind guys sitting by the side of the road. “Sure, giving sight to the blind was what Jesus used to do when he was building support in the villages and towns of Galilee, but now is not the time for giving two blind beggars their sight. Now is the time for public political action of a larger, grander scale.” Perhaps they worried that if Jesus stopped to give sight to every blind person he met along the way he would never get to Jerusalem.
Perhaps the crowd had forgotten that they, too, had once been blind to who Jesus was, and only came to see because he ministered to them.
Perhaps it was precisely their growing certainty that they did see, that they knew what Jesus was going to Jerusalem to do that made them blind, that made them forget why it was that Jesus was going to Jerusalem in the first place.
Jesus was on his way to Jerusalem to fulfill his Messianic calling, his identity as the anointed Son of David, the Messianic King. But Jesus knew that his calling as the Son of David was not to be a mighty political liberator, but to be a humble servant; he went to Jerusalem knowing that it would mean suffering and death for him. But he was not so caught up with concern about himself, with the magnitude of the coming events, that he failed to notice those who he met along the way;
When two blind men shouted, “Have mercy on us, Son of David”, the crowd sternly ordered them to be quiet, but Jesus was moved with compassion for them. When Jesus heard them, He stood still. He interrupted his movement to Jerusalem, and asked them what they wanted of him. Moved with compassion, he touched their eyes and they received their sight.
He did not succumb to the temptation to get caught up in the excitement of the crowd, to conform to their hopes and expectations of who he was and what he would do. Nor did he succumb to the temptation to become so concerned about his own well being, of the suffering that lay before him, that he became blind to those around him. He remained obedient to this vocation even as he knew that the climax of his story was immanent; He continued to attend to the needs of those who he met along the way. The kind of Messiah that Jesus was called to be was a Messiah who notices the blind beggars by the side of the road, and is moved with compassion
He takes time to stop, to address them, to listen to them, to touch their eyes.
As I have reflected upon the story of Palm Sunday, and in particular upon these two blind men that sit just outside the Palm Sunday narrative,
it has struck me how easy it is to just pass them by. And yet, perhaps there is something that we can learn from attending to them.
Is there not a danger that we, like the crowd, will find ourselves caught up with a vision of where Jesus is going, an in the process become blind to those who call out as we pass by?
Are their people in our lives,
– In our Families
– In our places of employment
– in our neighbourhoods
– in our church,
who we are tempted to not hear,
to ignore,
to silence?
A vision is a powerful thing, an essential and important thing, but also a dangerous thing. Perhaps particularly dangerous when it is a vision that we understand to be a divine vision, a vision of where God’s Spirit is moving. Visions can inspire and energize us to push on towards a goal, but the danger is that it can become like blinders on a racehorse; While it keeps us focused on the goal, it can block out our peripheral vision, so that we fail to see what is going on beside and behind us.
Are their people in our lives, in our communities, in our church, who we are tempted to leave behind? Perhaps we are afraid that if we stop to attend to every person along the way our arrival at the destination will be delayed. Perhaps we think that the arrival is too important to be delayed or complicated;
So what if two people are left behind
– Does it really matter if they are passed by?
Do we take the time to stop,
to listen to them,
to be moved with compassion by them?
The story of Palm Sunday is the story of the Jesus entering into Jerusalem as a humble servant. He did not ride in on a white horse, but on a donkey. He did not ride in to take his place on a royal throne, but to suffer and be crucified.” He humbled himself, in obedience accepting death, even death on a cross”
The passage which we read from Philippians this morning is one of the earliest Christian hymns. It has been preserved because the Apostle Paul included it in his letter to the Church at Philippi.
His immediate purpose in doing so is to hold up Jesus as an example for a Church struggling to find a common vision:
He writes: “Do nothing out of selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yours
elves. Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others. Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who, being in the form of God, did not cling to his equality with God, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave. Bearing the human likeness, revealed in human shape, he humbled himself, in obedience accepting death, even death on a cross.”
Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who road into Jerusalem in humility, mounted on a donkey, who stopped on his journey when two blind men called out to him, who was filled with compassion for them. Let us look to the interests of others, even, or perhaps especially, if they don’t seem to fit in with our plans, with our vision.
I have focused this morning on the response of the crowd to these two blind men. I recognize, however, that not all of us will be able to identify with the crowd; some of us probably feel more like the blind men by the side of the road;
– Perhaps we don’t see what others see;
– Perhaps rather than being caught up in excitement, we feel sidelined
– things are going on around us that we don’t feel we can participate in
fully.
– the crowd is pushing forward, so excited about where they are going,
about what might happen when they arrive,
that they don’t notice us
– or, perhaps worse, the crowd notices us, hears us call out,
but rather than listen to what we are saying,
they try to silence our voice.
If this is where you find yourself this morning, be assured that that is not Jesus way;
Call out –
Jesus hears those who call; He hears and has compassion;
– He is never to busy, never too great, to attend to those in need;
– He has compassion for us when we find ourselves stumbling in the dark,
And let us all pray that as we journey together, God will enable us to hear and see, both where we are going and also who we are journeying with,
and perhaps most importantly, those who we are tempted to leave behind.
When Jesus touched their eyes, they immediately they regained their sight and followed him; And as he approached Jerusalem on a donkey, they shouted with the crowd; “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest heaven.”