This Sunday is Palm Sunday (also called Passion Sunday). On this Sunday, the church has two movements: The Liturgy of the Palms and the Liturgy of the Word. This service is carried out in different ways in different traditions. Often, the Liturgy of the Palms and the corresponding gospel reading happen at the beginning of worship. The worship gathering then continues with the Liturgy of the Word and the readings for the day including a long gospel reading outlining the Passion of Jesus.
There is often more scripture read on this Sunday than any other Sunday in the church calendar. The gospel reading is so long and so dramatic, churches often have several readers who share the reading.
This year, the Liturgy of the Palms and the Liturgy of the Passion are from Matthew’s gospel. The Old Testament and Epistle readings do not change from year to year. You can find what I wrote about Luke’s version of the Triumphal Entry (the historical background is very much the same) here. You can find my reflections on the Old Testament and Epistle readings here. I will focus this space on the Passion Reading.
As always, my “Deep Dive” includes more notes, quotations, illustrations, etc.
The official lectionary reading is Matthew 26:14-27:66. A shorter, alternative reading is provided as Matthew 27:11-54, which is still longer than our typical passages.
Here are a few things that stand out to me about Matthew’s account of the Passion1:
Jesus, Barabbas, and Pilate (vs. 11-26)
When Jesus is sentenced to death, Barabbas goes free. Barabbas had likely been thrown in prison for his part in a violent rebellion which emerged in Jerusalem. At this time, Jerusalem was a hotbed for violent political uprisings.
It is significant that Barabbas’ first name is also “Jesus.” Pilate asks the crowd which of these two “Jesuses” should be released for the celebration. For Matthew, Barabbas is all of us.
But we are also crowd, which for Barabbas to be released and for Jesus to be crucified.
The Apostles’ Creed names Pontius Pilate. Karl Barth says that Pontius Pilate enters the creed “like a dog into a nice room.” To us, Pilate may seem like a minor character, but Pontius Pilate represents pagan power and authority.
Matthew does not blame one group for Jesus’ death. He is perfectly happy to “spread the wealth” of guilt. It is all of our fault. The chief priests and the elders represent religious power. They have handed Jesus over. Pilate is a coward, hiding behind his military dominance, which is also the instrument used to carry out his sentence. And, the crowds themselves are guilty. However, the good news of the gospel is that, just as all are guilty, redemption is available to all.
Yet, there are still at least one witness to his innocence: Pilate’s wife sends Pilate a message that she has had a dream and that she knows that this innocent man should not be sent to his death.
Jesus Mocked and Crucified (vs. 27-38)
We see the rank-and-file soldiers mocking Jesus. One of the great criticisms of the Apostle’s Creed is that it seems to shortcut so much of Jesus’ teaching, ministry, and healing. We are told that he is “born of a Virgin Mary” and “suffered under Pontius Pilate.” Yet, so much of Jesus’ life is summarized in this word “suffered.” It would always end this way. Jesus’ very presence poses a threat to the powers-that-be.
The mocking continues as the written charge above Jesus’ head reads “THIS IS JESUS, THE KING OF THE JEWS.” Jesus’ “crime” was his claim to be the true king of Israel. For Matthew, however, this accusation is the truth; and his kingdom has come about by crucifixion.
James and John argued about who would sit at his right hand and who at his left. (20:23) Jesus told them that there would be a time when he would be come into his kingdom. But his throne is the cross. This then plays itself out on the cross as Jesus is crucified between two violent “robbers” (vs. 36).
It is such an amazing thing to see the kingdom of God cut through the kingdoms of this world, not by worldly strength or influence, but simply by self-giving love. True love will always be met with resistance, but it is the way of God’s new world.
Jesus on the Cross (Vs. 39-44)
It is not just the soldiers who are mocking Jesus. The crowds and religious leaders are doing so as well. Specifically, they mention three things (vs. 40-43): 1) They recall his words that he said he would destroy the temple and build it in three days. 2) They refer to him as the Son of God (twice) 3) He has saved others, but seems unable to save himself.
We remember the the tempter in the desert (Matthew 4), challenging Jesus to perform certain actions in order to shortcut his solidarity with humanity. This is the same voice. If you are really God’s son, why don’t you destroy the Temple and rebuild it in three days? Isn’t that what you said you would do? If you really are God’s Son, why don’t you save yourself?
Between chapter 4 and chapter 27, there were many accusations. The way of Jesus looked weak to the kingdoms of the world. They were expecting a political conquerer, a mighty king who would raise up an army. They didn’t expect it to end like this, dying at the hands of the very empire that is oppressing them, handed over by the priests who were corrupting the temple.
The Death of Jesus (vs. 45-54)
Matthew tells us intentionally that darkness came over the land (vs. 45). Before God created the universe, there was only chaos and darkness. There was only darkness and disorder (Gen. 1:1-3). God spoke and there was light. This is the first thing that God created.
Jesus cries out in a loud voice ““Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” (which means “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”) (vs. 46). This is the only word Jesus speaks from the cross in Matthew’s gospel. Jesus has stepped into the brokenness, the oppression, and even the sinfulness of the world. He has taken it all upon himself.
All throughout the crucifixion narrative, we are given hints of kingship, but they are flipped upside down. The thorns are his crown and the cross is his throne. He is flanked by two of Israel’s zealots as his right and left hand men. His royal placard is written ironically. He is declared as king by the crowds, but in derision and mockery. And then, he is given a royal drink, but instead of fine wine it is the drink of a poor man (a mixture of wine and vinegar, vs. 48) on a sponge.
Jesus lets out a cry of resignation, entrusting his spirit to his Father (vs. 50). And at this moment, creation responds. The Temple veil is torn in two (vs. 51). God has now done something new, to which the temple was a sign. Jesus is now what the temple was intended to be and what Matthew has been pointing to all along.
But that’s not all. Matthew tells us that “The bodies of many holy people who had died were raised to life. They came out of the tombs after Jesus’ resurrection and went into the holy city and appeared to many people (vs. 52-53).” This all results in an earthquake (vs. 54). What the heck does that mean? Did they raise to life after his death and then enter the city after his resurrection? We are not sure, and Matthew is not quick to clear it up for us. It is possible that this is Matthew’s descriptive way of saying that death lost its hold on the people of God at this moment. Regardless of what we think this actually looked like, Matthew wants us to see that all of creation is bearing witness to what God has done at calvary.
Notice that all of the verbs are passive. The rocks were split, the graves were open, the bodies were raised to life (vs. 52). God is doing this. This is a sign that the powers of sin and death have not won. God is at work.
A centurion, who perhaps represents those outside of the family of Israel who will come to faith in Jesus (and to whom the Magi in chapter 2, the centurion in chapter 8, and the Canaanite woman of Matthew 15 have pointed to), sees what has happened and praised God saying, “Surely he was the son of God (vs. 54).”
The centurion’s declaration summarizes what Matthew wants all of his readers to say about Jesus as they hear his telling of Jesus’ life.
Tom Wright, Matthew for Everyone, Part 2 (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2002), 177-193.
Fleming Rutledge, The Undoing of Death: Sermons for Holy Week and Easter, (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002).
Karl Barth, Dogmatics in Outline, (New York: Harper, 1959), 101-108.