Matthew 21:1-11 Commentary

Advent is the season of expectant waiting and hope, but could Palm Sunday be a mini-Advent of sorts? Through the first nine verses, there is clearly a hope and a building sense of anticipation about what is about to happen. Even when the questions come in verses 10-11, they come with a sense that things are definitely on edge. To use a line from an advent hymn, could the world be about to turn?

This is not Jesus’s first time coming to Jerusalem, but it is clearly different than his other visits. Jesus establishes it as such by giving instructions to fetch a colt and its mother: he intends to ride into the city on these animals. Thanks to the gospel writer, we’re given the necessary context to make the connection immediately, but what the disciples pieced together is a little more difficult to tell. It is not difficult to imagine, however, that they would have been impacted by the ease with which Jesus’s instructions were able to be followed. And if they did think about what was prophesied, what were they starting to feel?

We know the disciples have struggled to reconcile and wrap their hearts and minds on the way that Jesus has shown them a different view of the Messiah than they had been clinging to. Would Jesus choosing to put himself in the position and posture of the prophesied king push them back towards the expected? Would it be another reminder to accept Jesus’s self-revelation (and all that entailed about having one’s own views changed)? Or was there some other meaning they were making?

When I put myself in their shoes, the first thing I feel is hope—no matter what my actual view of what the Messiah will/must be, Jesus fulfilling prophecy, Jesus’s instructions being so clearly met, and Jesus being met by such a large crowd who shouts, “Hosanna!” would have really been a powerful experience!

Hosanna is itself a word of hope. It means “save” or “help” but as a shout of praise. Meaning, it is both intercession and acknowledgment of God’s answer. People are shouting this about Jesus as they lay down their cloaks and cut branches for Jesus to ride across. It is an act of respect for a King. But this king isn’t the king—he’s a man from Galilee. Inside the city, some are willing to refer to him as a prophet, recognizing that this following didn’t come from nowhere. Jesus has already changed a lot of people’s lives with his teachings and healings. There truly is reason to hope in him.

But what brings hope to some causes fear for others. Here the prophecy about the Messiah can be taken with its full force: the powers and principalities do need to feel the pressure of a Saviour who turns things upside-down. Jesus shows this even in his methods: he is the humble King who rides in on a donkey and her colt. He is so committed to this better way of sacrifice that he will die for us. What king does that?

Jesus’s humility is what continues to give me hope. Even as I know where this story goes, even as world events and leaders and cultural methods push against and rebel against God’s revelation of humility, I take hope that God’s power is made known in “weakness.”

Knowing what’s going to happen this week, I can take hope in the small signs of people believing that Jesus’s ways are better. Hope is so powerful that it’s one of the first things that people who want to consolidate their own power will try to destroy for others. I can take hope even when power and principalities and those in authority choose violence and force—that their methods will inevitably be destroyed and have no place in God’s world.

Yes, this hope is tempered by the challenges we see all around us. And yes, this hope is tempered and challenged by remembering that these same people praising Jesus with their cloaks and shouts will be part of the crowd that calls for him to be crucified. But that’s just a reminder to look at Jesus and the Spirit’s presence in the world instead of measuring my reasons to hope in other human beings. Hope requires us to have our eyes on things around us, but also on things above, where Christ is, our king seated at the right hand of the Father. (Colossians 3)

Textual Point

The callback to a vibrating Jerusalem goes back to when the Magi came to King Herod and asked about the birth of the King of the Jews that they saw predicted in the stars. Then, the city was in a bit of turmoil because the vicious Herod was not expected to take the news well—which he didn’t, calling for the death of any baby boys born around the area of Bethlehem. Here, thirty or so years later, Matthew references Zechariah’s prophecy (9.9) about a king entering the city, but the people in Jerusalem settle for something a little lower, deciding to go with what they’ve heard about Jesus, that he is a prophet. All the same, there is still a sense of conflict in the air. The same word is used when Jesus breaths his last on the cross and well as when there is an earthquake at the resurrection.

Illustration Idea

Thinking of power trying to destroy hope, I’m reminded of a number of storylines in the first season of Star Wars’ Andor. Along with the Imperial presence in towns, the Narkina 5 Imperial Prison Complex that Andor is sent to is designed to crush hope. There the prisoners are forced to manufacture weapons for the Empire, pitted against each other through competition and punishment. To further kill their hope, the prison is located in the water, with escape seemingly impossible.