“Rejoice
greatly, O daughter Zion!
Shout aloud, O daughter Jerusalem!
Lo, your king
comes to you;
triumphant and victorious is he,
humble and
riding on a donkey,
on a colt, the foal of a donkey.” (Zech 9:9)
These are
words from the prophet Zechariah who lived in the late 6th century
BC.
Zechariah is
one of a few prophets recorded in the Bible who lived in Israel during the
years of restoration.
He observed as
the people who returned from exile worked together with the people who had
never been forced to leave in order to rebuild the place that was their home.
And it’s a
time of hope for the community.
Returning, rebuilding, restoring.
But one
important difference remains.
They could
rebuild their temple. But King Cyrus of Persia would be their king.
They could
live in the land, but only in exchange for their loyalty to the Persian Empire
– the most recent in a line of conquering powers in the land.
And so here in
Zechariah we see the vision of the prophet who speaks to the longing of a
people under occupation. Grateful for
return, but longing for full restoration.
And no one
knows who this passage referred to, if it referred to anyone that was living
when Zechariah wrote it during that time in the late 500s BC
when the
longing for independence and a good and peaceful leader was on the minds of
everyone helping to lay the new foundations of restored Jerusalem.
But one thing
that is really significant is that in this vision, the imagined king would not
come in a caravan of armed chariots.
The king would
not be trotting in, high up on a war horse with the glory of conquest.
The king that
the prophet Zechariah sees and draws his listeners and readers in to behold.
Is one who
comes to the people triumphant, victorious. Yes.
But
humble. And riding on a donkey.
Signs of peace
and peaceful intention.
This is one of
the many visions of Messiah, a Hebrew word that literally means “Anointed One.”
The one who is
set apart for the purpose of God – to restore, renew, heal, bring together –
make real and visible the steadfast love of God for the people.
And so it’s
not completely coincidental that when Jesus comes to Jerusalem he comes in this
way. He asks his disciples to get a young
donkey. (polos – colt, but any young animal)
He’s thinking
of Zechariah.
This is
symbolic action.
In a way,
Jesus is saying to any who would watch or listen or join in,
Remember that
this is the way of God – it is a way that must come on a donkey and not a
war-horse.
This is what
gets him in trouble ultimately.
His preference
for the donkey over the war-horse.
Jesus believed
that the way that God would rule was through mercy and not manipulation.
And so in
Matthew we read him saying “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit
the earth.”
Jesus knew
that he was going to make a stir by riding a donkey to the city.
But he
believed this was a stir that needed to be made.
This was light
that needed to be shone on the darkness of the real-politik of occupying
Rome and the Jerusalem elite.
He was
aligning himself with the vision of Zechariah as he gently rode to Jerusalem
down the Mount of Olives –
The Mount of
Olives.
The mountain
directly east of the city. Which like
Gates Mtn where you can see the villages of Acworth and South Acworth, you
could look from the Mount of Olives and see the city of Jerusalem – see inside
the temple walls.
The Mount of
Olives.
East of the
city – the same path that was walked in the other direction by the defeated all
those centuries before when Jerusalem was destroyed and so many were exiled–
But also the
same path that the returning exiles would have taken when they, like Jesus now,
were returning to Zion.
And so there’s
a lot here in Jesus’s choice to ride to the city from this mountain, on this
donkey.
And the people
sing Hosanna.
And I’m not
sure if you’ve ever asked or found out what this word that we only use in
church means.
It’s what the
Hebrew sounds like in the part of the Psalm we read this morning where we
heard: Save us, Lord, save us! It’s actually two Hebrew words: Hos-anna
Two words that
were used as part of that Psalm in the liturgy for the holiday Sukkot,
And so it came
to mean more than just “Save us” – it came to be a festive phrase –
An expression
of praise and of hope in God’s promise to make things right, to bring healing
to the people and to the land.
Hosanna.
And when the
Bible is translated into Greek, these two Hebrew words get glued together and
made into one Greek word. And when
English translators come to this Greek word, they leave it as is.
Hosanna.
In this word
is all of the hope and trust of a people that long for the kind of world where
kings ride donkeys and not war-horses, where gentleness and peacemaking are the
values most highly cherished – where love changes hearts of every person, from
the stable-boy to the CEO.
And we still
sing Hosanna. And it’s not just because
we hope for things to get better but also because we’ve seen how in Jesus
things have already been made better.
Grace has
changed us. Love has restored us and we
are able to love God and to love one another because of the love that we have
seen in this Jesus of Nazareth.
Hosanna.
Singing
Hosanna is like singing Amazing Grace!
It’s a
confidence in what God has done that leads to praise for what God is doing and
longing for what God will do in our lives and in our world.
Can you sing Hosanna this
morning?
Are you feeling the dual
feelings of longing and gratitude?
Thankful for the blessings of
God for you and those you love,
For the gifts of life and new
life.
For new beginnings and
forgiveness. For being rescued from
danger.
For the joy of community and
worship, of fellowship and friendship,
Of the smell of steam in the
sugarhouse, the taste of sugar on snow.
Are you feeling the gratitude
in Hosanna?
But also – are you feeling
the longing in Hosanna?
that longing which comes as
cry from the heart – save us.
Make something new in me. In
us.
A longing borne of
experiencing that part of ourselves that is out of joint.
An anger that clouds our
minds and scorches relationships.
A sadness which depletes our
energy and confidence and makes us just want to crawl back into bed.
An emptiness which just can’t
seem to see hope within the maddening maze of things,
the grief of lost loved ones,
or lost job, or divorce. The struggles
of life.
A confusion that makes us
restless and unable to focus.
A longing born of the gap we
experience between what is and what ought to be.
Can God heal these? Can grace make a difference?
We long to be made whole.
Hosanna.
And the longing for our
community and state and nation and international community – longing for
donkeys over war-horses. For plowshears
over swords. For cooperation over
conflict and competition.
And so.
Hosanna.
We are grateful for this and
now and we.
But Hosanna.
O God make us new, give us a
new lease on life,
heal our wounds as individuals
and as a society.
Hosanna in the highest.
Blessed is the one who comes
in the name of the Lord.
Riding on a donkey.
Amen.
