Peace, praise & power
Readings: Luke 19. 28-40
Today Jesus rides into Jerusalem as a King, but not the sort of king they were expecting. As he rides, in triumphal procession, his disciples sing his praise, they speak of his power, and of the peace that he brings.
We’re right at the start of Holy Week, and all of Luke’s Gospel has been leading to this point. We know from John’s Gospel that Jesus has visited Jerusalem a few times for various festivals over the course of his ministry, but Luke has ignored that. He’s been building to this moment, to Jesus final arrival in Jerusalem and the beginning of the events which will rapidly lead to his arrest, crucifixion and death, and his resurrection.
The people have long been expecting a coming King, and here they seem to have found him. As he rides down the hill from the mount of olives and into the city his disciples, and here Luke is referring to the large crowd of disciples rather than just the 12, are speaking of him as a King.
They’re quoting Psalm 118, the Psalm we read just a little earlier in the service. This is one of the Psalms recited by pilgrims as they approach Jerusalem, in fact it’s the last one, so would have been said right as you’re coming up to the city. So on the one hand it’s entirely appropriate to be quoting it or even reciting it in full as they approach the city as pilgrims coming to the festival. But that’s not all that’s going on. This Psalm is a psalm of the King, written about the coming of the King to Jerusalem. But not just for a visit, or even to for his coronation, this is about the recognition of the King returning in victory, bringing with him the spoils of war.
So this great crowd are praising Jesus as the King, as the long promised ruler who would rescue and restore God’s people, his nation. Jesus is the one who deserves our praise. The only one who is worthy of praise and worship. And not just begrudgingly, or because we feel we should, Jesus’ disciples simply erupt in praise, explode in joyful praise and song. And when Jesus is told to silence them by the religious authorities he responds that if the crowds were silent, even the stones would cry out. Even the stones. There’s such a sense of celebration, of joy, of rejoicing, that even if the crowds were silenced, creation itself would take up the song, it’s that sort of a moment. All of creation worships, all of creation praises God, and praises the Son, Jesus Christ, who has redeemed the whole universe through his cross.
But back to those crowds, they’re rejoicing and praising Jesus, not just because he deserves it, not just because he is worthy, but because of the real and tangible difference he has made to the lives of these disciples. As we read, they’re praising Jesus for the works of power they have seen him doing, we’ll circle back to power in a moment, but it’s about what they have witnessed, what they have experienced. They’re praising him not just because of who he is, but because of what he does, the difference he has made in their lives.
It’s one thing to praise Jesus because of who he is, and we absolutely should, sometimes we don’t do that enough, but it’s quite another to praise him because he is these things for us, because he has blessed us, changed us, ransomed and redeemed us, the difference he has made to our lives. As we sing in the hymn Come let us join our cheerful songs – ‘Worthy the Lamb that died,’ they cry (that is the angels), ‘to be exalted thus’; ‘Worthy the Lamb,’ our lips reply, ‘for he was slain for us.’
Creation worships, erupts in praise and in joy, because of who Jesus is, and so do we, and yet our worship is more personal, even more joyful, he is all these things for us. Jesus is a king worthy of praise.
And he is also a King who brings peace. As I said this whole image both culturally and scripturally is speaking loudly of victory, of a conquering king returning from war. And so the atmosphere would have been electric, and there are incredibly political overtones happening here. It’s little wonder the Pharisees want the disciples to shut up, they’ve got this really delicate peace with the Romans and this is threatening to upturn the whole lot, the whole procession reeks of rebellion.
And for the crowds this was likely true. They are expecting that Jesus is the sort of king who will overthrow the Romans, who will drive out those invaders and re-establish the Kingdom of his forefather David. They are expecting a military uprising, battle and victory. All the prophecies of the Saviour, of the Messiah, at this point were caught up in this political climate at this point. Liberation and freedom and the Kingdom were all about getting rid of the Romans. A great upturning of the established order followed by lasting peace.
Some of the disciples are even holding onto this hope after the resurrection, as they ask right before Jesus’ ascension in the book of Acts ‘Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?’.
And yet Jesus hasn’t come as an earthly ruler, he hasn’t come to drive out the Romans, he hasn’t come to do battle with Pilate and Herod and take back the nation for the people. We get our first clue of why he’s here in the second sentence of praise we hear on the lips of those crowds – ‘Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!’ Sound familiar?
I hope so, it wasn’t that long ago we heard those words, earlier in Luke’s Gospel, as the angels announced to the shepherds the birth of the Saviour at Christmas. The Saviour who brings peace, not war, not violence and insurrection, not a struggle against earthly rulers and powers, but peace. Peace to God’s people, peace to those who would accept him as Saviour and King. As we’ll say a little later in our service in the Benedictus, also from Luke, Jesus has come to ‘give light to those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death and guide our feet into the way of peace.’
Jesus is a King who brings peace in his wake. Peace between us and God, dealing with our sin and rebellion through his cross, through his death. Peace in our souls as we know the deep love of God, the forgiveness he brings, the cleansing of guilt and shame. Peace between peoples as Jesus through the cross tears down the walls that divide us, between Jew and Gentile, slave and free, male and female, making us one people in him. A people from every tribe and nation and language, and yet united in him, at peace through him. Jesus is a king who brings peace, not by force and intimidation, but through sacrifice, paying the price for our peace.
And finally Jesus is a king who is powerful. As I said the disciples are praising him because of the works of power they have seen him do, the miracles and healings he’s been doing. Our King is not powerless. We may assume it as he’s taken by force in the night on Thursday, condemned and executed on Friday, powerless in the face of earthly power and might. And yet he isn’t, angels could be with him in a moment, in his power he could overthrow them all, as he’s done previously he could walk right through the crowds, right through the armies, come down from the cross. But Jesus’ power, he doesn’t use it for himself, for his own glory, all the way through his ministry his power has been directed to the cause of the weak and powerless, the poor and the outcast. He doesn’t use his power to coerce or control or manipulate he uses it to bring freedom and life and hope.
As he himself says earlier in Luke’s Gospel, he has been given power to ‘proclaim good news to the poor, freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to set the oppressed free.’ This is a King who isn’t in it for himself, but for his people. It was radical then, and it seems even today on the world stage it’s becoming radical again. Jesus is a King who is powerful, but not how we would expect that to look.
Which brings us back to praise. Here is a King who uses his power to bring life and freedom to his people, who brings peace in his wake as he comes. No wonder these people praise him as they do, no wonder all of creation would sing his praise if they didn’t. This is our king, riding in to Jerusalem to die for us, riding in in triumphal procession knowing that in a few short days the city will spit him out, as he leaves in a very different procession with the heavy bean of the cross on his shoulders. But he rides in anyway, rides in precisely to be dragged back out, why? Because he’s coming to save us.
So will we have him? Will we take him as our king? Will we join in in giving praise? Or will we reject him as the crowds in three days time will, calling for his death, because actually he isn’t really the sort of king we want?
All the threads of Luke’s Gospel converge at this point as Jesus arrives at last in the city of the kings, and the crowds erupt in praise, rejoicing in the peace he has come to bring, rejoicing in his power to save.
Amen.