When they had come near Jerusalem and had reached Bethphage, at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them, “Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied and a colt with her; untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, just say this, ‘The Lord needs them.’ And he will send them immediately.” This took place to fulfill what had been spoken through the prophet:
Matthew 21:1-11
“Tell the daughter of Zion,
Look, your king is coming to you,
humble and mounted on a donkey,
and on a colt, the foal of a donkey.”
The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them; they brought the donkey and the colt and put their cloaks on them, and he sat on them. A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. The crowds that went ahead of him and that followed were shouting,
“Hosanna to the Son of David!
Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!
Hosanna in the highest heaven!”
When he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil, asking, “Who is this?” The crowds were saying, “This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee.”
My sermon from Palm/Passion Sunday (March 29, 2026) on Matthew 21:1-11
Today’s sermon is a little shorter than usual on purpose because we’re letting our Bible do most of the talking. We began today by joining in with Jesus as he entered the city of Jerusalem in the days before his betrayal, arrest, and the Cross. That image of a small crowd waving palms, laying down garments on the dusty road, and with Jesus mimicking how kings of ancient Judea and Israel would enter the city after a successful military campaign sets the tone for today. He wasn’t merely being humble; he was letting others know a different kind of story was now unfolding. This moment – as well as the rest of Holy Week – are central to who we know God to be. And yet Jesus’ procession isn’t the only image that might prepare us for everything that comes next because it’s likely that as Jesus entered Jerusalem, the Roman Governor Pontius Pilate showed up too. When we pay attention to his story, we get a better glimpse of what God is always up to.
Now out of all the Roman governors who ruled ancient Judea, we know the most about Pilate but the amount of information is very small. We don’t know where he was born, what his early life was like, who his family was, or even have a document containing his full name. Scholars assume he was educated, somewhat wealthy, politically connected, and might have served as a military commander somewhere else in the Empire. Yet how he became governor of Judea is a mystery and why he wanted that job in the first place – since there were better governor jobs around – is a mystery too. Pilate probably began his rule around the year 26 or 27 and served for about 10 years. He was supposed to be supervised by the governor of a much larger province but he spent most of his time doing whatever he wanted. Pilate was the head of the judicial system, responsible for the collecting of tribute and taxes, managed all the government contracts, and minted the coins used in the local marketplaces. And like most Roman governors in his area, he spent most of his time living along the coast. Pilate, though, would come to Jerusalem during major religious festivals with a large number of soldiers as crowd control. His work, though, wasn’t secular since he also had a say in how the Holy Temple functioned. Pilate not only appointed who the Jewish High Priest would be but also controlled some of the ritual objects used during the holiest days of the Jewish year. We don’t know what Pilate really thought about the Jewish community or their God but the historical record shows he regularly antagonized those he was supposed to rule. He once tried to install images of the Roman Emperor in the city as a way of showing who was divine and who wasn’t. After a crowd protested outside his home for five days, he ordered his soldiers to draw his swords. When the crowd refused to back down, Pilate finally relented. That didn’t stop him from doing whatever he could to insult the Jewish community. He also decided to have golden shields possibly covered with inscriptions declaring the Emperor to be the Son of God placed in King Herod’s palace in Jerusalem. Herod got so mad about this he even complained to the Emperor. And, if that wasn’t enough, Pilate also raided the money people donated to the Temple to pay for a new aqueduct. When another crowd protested what Pilate had done, he let his soldiers attack this crowd with their swords. Pilate’s governorship ended after another violent incident where he ordered the massacre of a group of Samaritans who were on a kind of archaeological expedition looking for items associated with Moses. That group was led by a person who some declared to be the Messiah and so Pilate didn’t even go through a pretend trial to condemn them all to death.
From what we can tell, Pontius Pilate didn’t mind using violence to assert his own authority. He regularly proclaimed the Emperor to be divine and all powerful. Pilate was skilled at playing groups and people against each other as a way to keep them in line. And when it came to showcasing Roman’s strength and might, he wasn’t afraid to let the sunlight reflecting off swords, armor, and golden images remind others who was in charge. When Jesus marched into the city as part of a rag tag crowd of disciples waving palm branches and riding a donkey, Pilate was entering the city at the same time at the head of his own parade. The golden standards bearing the image of the Emperor would have glimmered in the sun while he, at the top of a large horse, would personally embody the fullness of Rome’s military might. Pilate was reminding the community of not only who had conquered them but also who had defeated their God. And while Pilate placed soldiers within the city to stop people from protesting or challenging Roman rule, Jesus chose instead to head to the Temple to show who our God chooses to be. We might assume we, as faithful followers of Jesus, would have participated in the right kind of parade when Jesus rode in. Yet at the heart of today’s story, I think, the promise that makes Holy Week exactly what it’s supposed to be. Regardless of what we choose to put our faith in or how we use violence, wealth, and control to pacify our anxiety and fear, our God refuses to let us have the final word about Creation’s story. This is a moment when we, together, see just how far God will go for us and the world. And we, with, in, and because of Jesus Christ, will discover who God declares us to be.
Amen.