Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem on what we call Palm Sunday created quite a stir. The city was packed with people from all over Israel and beyond, come together to celebrate the Passover. It was a tense time for the Roman authorities. There would be a high level of resentment as devout Jews saw the imperial banners in the Holy City and were reminded that they were under the heel of a pagan power. A feeling that was sure to be exploited by the more extreme nationalistic elements in the nation.
Into this volatile atmosphere comes Jesus riding on a donkey. This was fairly common for a visiting King. He was symbolically sending out a message that he came in peace. But for Jews who knew the ancient Scriptures this was fulfilment of a prophecy in the book of Zechariah:
‘Rejoice greatly, Daughter Zion! Shout, Daughter Jerusalem! See, your king comes to you, righteous and victorious, lowly and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.’ (Zechariah 9: 9)
In the minds of many people this pointed forward to a day when a special King, anointed by God, would come to Jerusalem in this manner and a new golden age for Israel would open up when she would become the premier super-power throughout the earth. In the present circumstances this would mean the overthrow of the Romans.
As things turned out Jesus made no political gestures on the day or on subsequent days. The first thing He did after his entry according to Mark was to go to the Temple where He did nothing:
‘Jesus entered Jerusalem and went to the Temple. He looked around at everything, but since it was already late, he went out to Bethany with the twelve.’ (Mark 11: 11)
It was the next day, Monday in Holy Week for us, that one of the great dramas of Jesus’ ministry unfolds. Returning from Bethany:
‘Jesus entered the temple courts and began driving out those who were buying and selling there. He overturned the tables of the money changers and the benches of those selling doves, and would not allow anyone to carry merchandise through the temple courts. And as he taught them, he said, “Is it not written: ‘My house will be called a house of prayer for all nations’? But you have made it ‘a den of robbers.’” (Mark 11: 15-17)
It was as if Jesus was saying that the biggest problem with Israel was not the Romans but themselves. They were looking to a political solution to their problems when what was needed was spiritual reformation. Like the Temple the nation stood in need of cleansing. It is often forgotten that much of Jesus’ time in his last week on earth was spent teaching in the Temple and debating with the religious establishment of the day. Right to the end Jesus was calling on men and women to listen to the voice of God.
The easy application of this is to mourn the spiritual poverty of our own nation and to pray for the day when hearts will be open to the Gospel. This is fine as long as we remember that the pattern in Scripture is for God to speak through His people, to proclaim His truth, to live by His ways, to be the salt that preserves what is good and the light that shines in the darkness of the world. It could be said confidently that our nation has turned its back on the Gospel. Not long ago, in the space of a week, I heard from two different sources that the process of secularisation has been more rapid in Scotland than in any other European nation. That did not surprise me but then what weighs heavily is the question of the Churches’ response. Jesus shows the way. In a troubled time in the history of His nation Jesus went to the Temple, the spiritual powerhouse, looked around and didn’t like what He saw. The need of those who worshipped and sacrificed and taught there was repentance, a decisive turning to God.
This day in Holy Week is an opportunity for self-examination, for the Church to look at herself, to pray that the Holy Spirit will reveal where we are going wrong and to show us the way forward. In an interview Terry Waite gave to the Financial Times two years ago he explained that he had drifted from the Church of England and complained that the worship had become ‘a clergyman babbling away his own interpretation of how things ought to be.’
I am not a member of the Church of England but I know that she has men and women in leadership who seek to avoid ‘babbling’ but seek the voice of God in Scripture and are committed to sharing that with their people and the community of which they are a part. And that is where we all have to begin. There is nowhere else to go for the Church if we are seeking the cleansing that is the great need of the hour.
