The Meek Messiah and the Powers That Be: A Meditation on Luke 19:28–40
As I read the news, scroll social media, or walk around my neighborhood, I often ask myself this: Is violence, like Marvel’s Thanos, inevitable? Is violence, whether in the interpersonal or between nations, the way it has to be? Is using more power to overpower the only way to really get anything done?
Lord, I hope not.
While the testimonies of many around us would seem to argue that violence is a last resort, it seems that violence is the seedbed from which our thoughts and actions originate. Are we, as humans, so shaped by the normality and practicality of violence to get things done that we have stopped believing there’s another way?
Our collective violent imaginations run deep in America and are easily perpetuated. When responding to threats of harm, real or perceived, it is all too easy, as if instinctual, to think in terms of overcoming the threats with a show of force.
Even in our sporting events, we have fighter jet flyovers to symbolically remind us of our power through force. It’s as if we are saying, “I know that I have power, and I want you to know that I have the ability to crush you, so be on guard.”
In America, we prefer our leaders to show power and force like that. We like to know they are strong, willing to do the dirty work needed to keep our own hands free of the dirty work. The old cowboy myth or even The Dark Knight.
But Jesus disrupts this in Luke 19:28-40. In what is somewhat ironically referred to as “The Triumphal Entry,” Jesus enters Jerusalem in a way much different than our military marches. If you are looking through the lens of Christian triumphalism, Jesus will soon be a miserable failure to that narrative. And maybe this story is here to make that point clear again for us today.
Make no mistake. Jesus is triumphant, but for the way of Jesus, triumph looks like defeat in the world. Winning looks like losing. Life comes through death. Jesus is reclaiming what triumph looks like because he is in the process of healing the whole world from our broken, violent imaginations and expectations.
If Jesus saw triumph the way of America or any other empire, Luke 19 would be the time for Him to show his power to overcome and overtake the powers that be. Now would be a good time for a fighter jet flyover.
The crowd is looking for a flex. And in the face of such incredible power and threats of violence, Jesus looks more like one in utter need than a king who is taking over. Even among the shouts of “Hosanna,” some in the crowd must have seen him and wondered, “What kind of king is this?”
The Kind of King: Unarmed and Dangerous To the Powers
Well, if you’re going to come into the heart of Jewish-occupied territory as the Messiah, the One who would save, that Triumphal entry would be a show of force to strike fear into the hearts of those who instituted crucifixion, right?
Bring the tanks and weapons. We are overturning the powers and saving people. But Jesus did not bring a weapon like those fashioned for destroying the powers.
It has been said, “Don’t bring a knife to a gunfight.” And that seems like good advice if violence is your only means to overcome the powers. But we need to remove ourselves from the systemic logic of violence to understand Jesus and life in the kingdom of God. Jesus didn’t need a bigger gun for the gunfight, nor did he bring an inadequate weapon for the gunfight.
Jesus opted out of the gunfight altogether.
Jesus was quite unarmed and yet thoroughly dangerous. And in the upside down kingdom of God, that’s sufficient.
And what kind of crowd was witnessing this King’s entrance?
The Kind of Crowd: A Convergence of Competing Hopes and Desires
This takes place in Jerusalem during the time of preparation for Passover. Crowds of people come to the Temple for the feast of remembrance. This temple is in occupied Jerusalem by the Romans. Where Jewish leaders do not want to rock the boat; they desire to keep the peace. Some religious leaders are like the moderate who never fully resists the Empire, yet try not to fully assimilate either. With Jesus’ procession into Jerusalem, we see a necessary convergence and inevitable clash of competing ideologies, hopes, and fears.
It’s the week of preparation for Passover. Passover was a pilgrimage holiday for the Jewish people. It was a time when all who could would make their way into Jerusalem and to the Temple to celebrate the Passover. People from all over would make the annual pilgrimage to the temple to remember how God had rescued them from enslavement in Egypt. For the Jewish people, it was a time of remembrance but also a time of hope. The words of Psalm 118 would be on their lips and fill the air during this time. Recounting God’s faithfulness in their rescue while hoping for the rescue from their oppressors.
“Oh give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; his steadfast love endures forever!” (v.1)
“Save us, we beseech you, O LORD! O LORD, we beseech you,” (v.25)
With the annual reminder of liberation spoken aloud as the population of Jerusalem temporarily expanded with hopeful worshipers entering the city, crowding in the streets would ensue. The city gates for pilgrimage holidays would be left open, meaning all could come to remember and hope together.
The tension this created was not lost on the powers that be. The Roman Empire would make a show of force to prevent any uprisings. They knew the celebration of God’s liberation from oppression was a poetic opportunity for many would-be messiahs and insurrectionists. The Jewish pilgrims were not the only ones who had their sights set on Jerusalem, Roman soldiers would come in droves to guard the gates and squash any insurrectionist attempts. “Law and order” tactic, Roman Empire-style.
The cross is Roman Empire law and order tactics par excellence. The cross would brutally and shamefully kill any insurrectionist while also serving as a reminder of the unrelenting force of the Empire. The cross would taunt upstart revolutionaries, “Don’t even try, or you’ll be next.” Seeing someone on the crucifixion stake would strike fear into the hearts of all who would gaze upon it. And it was supposed to do that. It meant defeat. The end of hope. Submission to the Empire at all costs, or else. Because the assumption is that life here and now is all we have.
Converging in Jerusalem for the Passover, we have Jewish pilgrims, Roman enforcers, and we also have religious leaders within the temple. I sympathize with them, even if I dislike their middle-of-the-road stance here. Their form of resistance to the Empire is to attempt to remain faithful and care for their people in a world of difficulty and suffering. In some way, they are trying to keep the peace by not “rocking the boat.”
But this posture of “live and let live” is literally killing the people of God. Rather than fully resist the oppression of the Roman Empire, they resist resistance. They speak of peacekeeping, while that only perpetuates the oppression of their own people. They seek to keep people holy while keeping people from pursuing justice.
Those who truly resist the oppressive systems often lose their lives. Revolutions of force always come through violence and end in violence. They are called insurrectionists and crucified.
That’s how empires stay in power. That’s why moderates remain complicit. And that’s why pilgrims of hope cry out, “Save us, we beseech you, O LORD! O LORD, we beseech you,”
In the kingdom of the world, if you resist violence, violence often finds you. And then you have a choice:
Pick up the sword
Lay down your life
Those who pick up the sword will need bigger and better weapons to overcome by force and perpetuate the idea of violence and power as the way to secure safety.
For those willing to lay down their lives rather than perpetuate violence, they must hope in something beyond the binary of life or death. A hope that Jesus will be the first fruit of the resurrection. That what God does in Jesus, God will one day do in us too. That is how we live now, and it matters into eternity. Or better, what Jesus has done eternally matters now.
Jerusalem is a powder keg with many different people converging in the city. A ticking time bomb of tension ready to go off with any tremor of change. Still, there is Another who is descending on Jerusalem for this Passover. One who, by his very presence, amplifies all of the hopes and fears of the pilgrims, religious leaders, and the Empire. This One is a pilgrim whose presence will change Passover completely. A King who, in becoming king, alters kingship itself. A Messiah who, as the Messiah, heals the violent vision of messiahship.
By showing up in Jerusalem when and how he did, Jesus spoke directly to the Jewish people's hopes, the religious leaders' fears, and the Empire's anger.
Jesus is coming as king, but not the way they thought he would.
The crowd is chanting, “Hosanna!” They are chanting Psalm 118 because that is the practice of celebration for remembering God’s rescue in the past AND in the hope that this would-be Messiah is their hope in the present!
38 saying, “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest heaven!” 39 Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to him, “Teacher, order your disciples to stop.” 40 He answered, “I tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout out.”
Hosanna is a cry to be saved. Save us from what? Sin, yes, but also from pain, despair, poverty, and oppression. Save us from all of this and from sickness, loneliness, selfishness, arrogance, broken relationships, and all forms of violence.
Jesus comes on a donkey in meekness. He enters Jerusalem as the Messiah who will save, yet he looks ridiculous by military standards. He comes in meekness and faith, not with a show of power and force.
How might the crowd be responding to Jesus’ Arrival?
The crowd of pilgrims are celebrating with hope and anticipation. Already celebrating what God has done for their people in the past, Jesus enters and points to the fulfillment of prophecy. “Could this be the One? Is today the day? Has the revolution begun? Will we fight with him?”
The religious leaders are fearful that Jesus will upset the peace they work to control and maintain. They had to recognize the allusions Jesus’ entry was making. Would Jesus be the One? Surely, he couldn’t be serious. How would he lead their people to a new exodus, rescue them from slavery, weaponless, riding a donkey, and alone? They might be hopeful and fearful and skeptical and concerned. And just a nervous wreck watching and wondering and worrying.
“Could this be the One? Is today the day?” Probably just another wannabe Messiah that we will have to do damage control with Rome over to keep our oppression at a minimum.
The Roman Empire, the rulers of the known world. The greatest power on earth. They would see to it that Jesus, this insurrectionist, was silenced through public execution, just like the other revolutionaries during Passovers of the past.
They were not asking: “Could this be the One? Is today the day?” But instead, “This guy is so weak. Here we go again. Another insurrection, another crucifixion.”
But O oppressors. O Workers of violence and iniquity. Do not mistake meekness for weakness. And friends, please do not make the same mistake either.
In the upside down kingdom, the greatest threat to evil is the one who comes in meekness. The unarmed Jesus arrives to disarm the powers and neutralize the fear the powers hold by showing us that what we see now isn’t all there is to see forever.
Remember Jesus’s words:
“Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.” (Matt 5:5)
The Roman Empire was the ruler of the known earth.
For now.
Perhaps meekness, not violence, is inevitable.
One day, meekness will inherit the earth. Including all that Rome conquered, colonizer stole, and we seek to posses ourselves.
Violence, power, and advancement in knowledge were the logic of conquest. Peace was kept through the threat of violence (which meant no peace for many without power). But the entry of the meek Messiah into the heart of Jerusalem signals a new logic, not one of violence given to obtain power. Still, a logic of violence absorbed to heal violence and change how we see power.
In some ways, each group of people was mistaken and right. God doesn’t take on flesh and become a Messiah by force. By taking on flesh, God changes what it is to be a Messiah.
Jesus doesn’t violently enter Jerusalem to overturn by violence; Jesus meekly receives violence and changes our way of viewing violence in this world.
May we, in a world of violent options, hope in Jesus. Trust in the eternal. Hope in God’s kingdom to live now with our future in mind. This is where resistance is found. A resistance not only to the powers of evil but also resist believing that the powers of evil are the only way we can live in this world.