From the Gospel: Dangerous acceptance
To accept Jesus as king means to accept not only others but even ourselves, just as we are, warts and all
Palm Sunday, Cycle C. Today’s readings: Isaiah 50:4-7; Philippians 2:6-11; Luke 19:28-40
Accepting others is tricky business. We might readily welcome others, and we might even be warmly hospitable to them. Indeed, we can do so lavishly, as long as we keep a safe distance from them, lest we are changed by them. Truly accepting others, in contrast, brings us face to face with our vulnerability and therefore opens us up to graces we could hardly dream of.
The feast of Palm Sunday can be described not simply as a commemoration of the entry of Jesus into the holy city of Jerusalem, but precisely as the acceptance of Jesus as king in one’s own life. Jesus seeks to enter Jerusalem not like a mighty king with military parades and pompous processions as Pilate would have done, to address any potential unrest, on the first day of Passover just a few days before this momentous entry. Instead, Jesus enters riding a humble colt.
To the Jewish passers-by, the words of Zechariah would have sprung to mind. They would have recalled how the prophet had foretold that the king will come riding on a colt, and that he will bring peace from one end of the earth to another. This prophecy is finally being realised.
But as it turns out, only those who in their heart of hearts truly accept Jesus as king feel compelled to recite the words of the psalm, “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord.” In accepting Jesus as king they feel indeed blessed. Their act of laying down their cloaks and their shouts of joy are not just some kind of outward act of crowd hysteria. These acts are, evidently, an authentic expression of the inner joy that they experience in accepting Jesus as their king.
Those who do not accept Jesus, in contrast, perceive him as a threat to their authority and to their self-righteousness. They even tell Jesus to stop his disciples from acclaiming him as king, to which Jesus replies “even if they keep silent, the stones will cry out”. Perhaps these Pharisees give voice to our own hesitations and reluctance to accept Jesus in our life. We know too well, as the Pharisees did, that to accept Jesus is to be willing to change our ways.
Those who do not accept Jesus perceive him as a threat to their authority and to their self-righteousness
Jesus’s solemn entry into Jerusalem sets the tone of Holy Week that begins today. His kingdom is finally inaugurated and he is about to take his throne, that is, his cross. His kingdom, like the humble colt he rides, is built on service and humility.
To accept Jesus necessarily involves uniting oneself with and participating in his passion, death and resurrection in the daily grind of our dealings with others, and our tough political and economic decisions, big and small.
Perhaps our newsfeed would look slightly different if we not only rallied in favour of human rights but also truly accepted others, if we not only greeted others but accepted them as they are. To accept Jesus as king means to accept not only others but even ourselves, just as we are, warts and all.
Jesus seeks to enter our heart in a way similar to the way he entered Jerusalem ‒ unassumingly, disarming us with his humility, often using people and circumstances as his previously unused colt to enter our life.
To accept Jesus into one’s life is to accept him without hair-splitting his terms and conditions. As existentialist theologian Paul Tillich affirms in his essay ‘You Are Accepted’, when we accept ourselves and others, “we experience the grace of being able to accept the life of another, even if it be hostile and harmful to us, for, through grace, we know that it belongs to the same ground to which we belong and by which we have been accepted”.