When He approached Bethphage and Bethany, near the mount that is called Olivet, He sent two of the disciples,saying, “Go into the village ahead of you; there, as you enter, you will find a colt tied on which no one yet has ever sat; untie it and bring it here.If anyone asks you, ‘Why are you untying it?’ you shall say, ‘The Lord has need of it.’” So those who were sent went away and found it just as He had told them. As they were untying the colt, its owners said to them, “Why are you untying the colt?” They said, “The Lord has need of it.” They brought it to Jesus, and they threw their coats on the colt and put Jesus on it. As He was going, they were spreading their coats on the road. As soon as He was approaching, near the descent of the Mount of Olives, the whole crowd of the disciples began to praise God joyfully with a loud voice for all the miracles which they had seen, shouting:
“Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord;
Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!”
Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to Him, “Teacher, rebuke Your disciples.” But Jesus answered, “I tell you, if these become silent, the stones will cry out!” —Luke 19:29-40
Jerusalem and her people are used to political marches by now. They know to stop what they are doing, line up, and watch. Watch the flashes and glints of Roman armor, listen to the ominous sound of javelins and swords and daggers clanking as the soldiers paraded in perfect unison. Watch dozens of horses trotting past, the chariots rolling by. Hear the cries of the men announcing Pilate’s reputation as the “son of a god,” arguing his right to rule. See the turnout of all the rich elites who pander to the rulers for social and political gain. This is how Herod and Pilate (read: rulers set up by Rome) display their power. They plan it this way. This is how the “peace” (pax romana) of the Roman Empire is kept: observe the might and skill and slaughtering ability of the people who are in charge of you—and imagine what would happen to you and your loved ones if you fight back. You don’t speak up—you shut up. We have peace, because we have obedience. We have obedience or we have bloodshed.
Jesus’ final entry into Jerusalem, on this first day of the week, in contrast, is simple. It was planned out that way. This is a political statement of what a just leader looks like. Jesus rides a single colt, not harnessed into a gleaming saddle, but covered in the dusty robes of the disciples. In the beginning, it is only his disciples who accompany him—covered in the colors and smells of the roads they’ve been traveling. Certainly not the carefully groomed and outfitted ruling-class Romans. The accompanying sounds of this homecoming aren’t orchestrated to intimidate. And this parade isn’t attractive to the city’s upper crust of society. This one brings the rural folk. The poor folk. The downtrodden and disadvantaged of the city and its outskirts.
They cut palm branches and voluntarily spread their coats out for him to walk over—the ultimate ”I choose YOU as lord and master” gesture from a group without much to their names. They way they welcome Jesus into the city is in direct contrast to the pained silence with which they tolerate the military parades of the Roman occupiers.
Instead of staying quiet, these lower class folks begin crying out acclamations to Jesus. They can’t help themselves. They say he represents God. Imagine the signs they would have carried today for a moment—written on repurposed cardboard boxes. They say he has a kingdom, and they behave like his willing subjects. They say he stands for peace, real peace. This kind of peace and leadership has literally and figuratively healed people. This kind of peace revels in making people’s lives better. Not just better: Accepted. Encouraged. Connected. They express their deepest pains and strongest desires in how they praise what Jesus is offering, versus what they are consistently expected to tolerate from their current leadership. These people are not just protesting Roman rule, though. They’re protesting the strict hierarchical society that their religious leaders have imposed (and taken advantage of) as well. They are protesting impossible standards for living (especially if one is poor). They are protesting a leadership more interested in hearing their own voices than the voices of the people.
And when Jesus is told to shut his supporters up, he refuses. He knew how deeply his community is hurting. That’s why he is there, to demonstrate something better. At some point, the injustices and cruelties these people have endured have stifled them long enough. Now is the time for their voices and their needs to be heard. He does not speak over them. He listens.
I think it’s important to recognize that before this processional begins, the colt’s owners (presumably someone with some money/property to their names) lets the colt go because “the lord needs it.” They don’t chase the disciples down. Their (arguably somewhat small) sacrifice enables the voices of Jesus and his followers. This seems to be crucial to the ability of those with (in contrast to those without) when it comes to Jesus: they have to be willing to give something up.
For the poor, with little to own, there isn’t much to rue leaving. For those who have things (read: money, possessions, power, title, etc.), like Zacchaeus earlier in the chapter, part of following Christ seems to be the willingness to abandon things and privilege and embrace social justice. There is room in the kingdom for them, too. This is not solely Good News for the poor—but a gospel for the privileged as well, a gospel that means giving as much as it means receiving.
Ultimately, the promise of a kingdom that is free from pain, free from dictators, free from kingdoms ruled by the sword, from social hierarchies, from any system that functions by causing someone to suffer or exist as anything less than equal—this is what Jesus offers. He offers it atop a simple, lowly vehicle, accompanied by a symphony of cries from the disenfranchised.
Isn’t that how all the most effective revolutions start?
Marjorie Ellenwood teaches English and Social Studies at Valley Adventist Christian School in Moreno Valley. She is an auntie to many LSU church kiddos, a cat mom, a pluviophile, a breakfast aficionado, and a Princess Bride quoter.