A couple of years ago, archeologists unearthed an absolutely stunning find. Buried in an intact urn, on a kosher hog-farm between Bethany and the Mount of Olives, was an almost intact papyrus. To their mounting excitement, they found that it was from the first century A.D., and as they deciphered the writing – in Aramaic, now a dead language – they almost flipped their scholarly lids: what they held in their hands was the diary of an hitherto unknown follower of Jesus. And as it happens, the first text to be released to the public – that’s you and me – revolves around the triumphal entrance of Jesus into Jerusalem, and the events leading up to his death. And so, because this is Palm Sunday – and so I won’t have to write a sermon– I thought I’d read some of it this morning. So here goes: readings from the diary of an until-now unknownfollower of Jesus, who identifies himself simply as "Fred."
“March23, 30 Ado Domini,8:30 pm, somewhere South of Bethany:
“Dear diary: I’m getting sick and tired of always hearing about ‘the twelve.’ The twelve did this,the twelve did that. Don’t they know that there are a multitude of followers of Jesus? Well, maybe not a multitude, but at least a veritable throng? But all they ever talk about are John and James and that idiot Peter . . . what about the rest of us? What about Ray and Edith and Roy? Or Judy and Melvin and Ruth? More to the point, what about me, what about Fred? You’d think guys like me would get at least a littlecredit . . .
“Well enough of this whining . . . tomorrow is as they say, dear diary, another day. And what a day it’s gonna be! After all the travels, after all the healings and feedings and teaching, after all the exorcisms, demons and dust, we’re gonna arrive at the City! Jerusalem, the big pomegranate, mother of us all. And I may be wrong, dear diary, but I think that there just might be some smarty-pants Pharisees who are surprised as all get out about the reception the master’s gonna get.”
“March 24, 30 Ado Domini,9:15 pm, Mary and Martha’s house, Bethany:
“Dear diary: What kind of King rides into town on a donkey? And a little donkey – a donkey colt– at that? Last year I got tickets to see Biggus Maximus enter into Joppa – from a Phoenician scalper outside the acropolis, paid a fortune, but it was worth it – and hewas on this gold-bedecked stallion, that looked like he’d just as soon swallow ol’ Biggus as lookat him, but my point is that thatwas a royal entry, worth every denarius I paid . . . but Jesus – King of the Jews, Soon-to-be Anointed Messiah from the royal line of David – chooses a donkey. And though he isn’t a bigman, he still looked rather – how shall we say it – un-kingly riding in on it, or at least unlike any king I’veever seen . . .
“But I gotta tell you, dear diary, I wasimpressed by how he got the donkey . . . ‘go into the town,’ he says to Thaddeus and me, ‘and just inside the gates you’ll see this colt tied up to a post. Untie it and bring it here. And if anyone asks you why you’re taking it, just tell ‘em the Lord sent you.’ And behold! just like he said, there was a colt, and as we were untying it, the owner came out and asked what we thought we were doing,taking his donkey, and we told him the Lordneeds it, and he let us have it, no questions asked. I guess that guy knows a king when he sees one . . . or hears about one, or whatever . . . But what impressed me the most,dear diary, was the way Jesus set it all up . . . for doesn’t it say in the scroll of Zechariah – I believe it’s the ninth verse of the ninth chapter – ‘Lo, your king comes to you; triumphant and victorious, humble and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey?’ Talk about your self-fulfilling prophecy . . . but those are the things mighty rulers are made of, they know how to exploit the texts, they know how to bring a little political theaterto bear. What a king our Lord Jesus is gonna make! I just wonder how he knew the foal was there?
“Anyway, we took off our cloaks, spread ‘em on the colt, and he got on, and son-of-a-gun if the crowds didn’t spread theirs as well! They took off their cloaks, young and old, rich and poor and laid them in the street! And if you ever saw what a donkey’s hooves can do to a piece of cloth, you’ll know what a sacrifice it was . . . especially for the less fortunate among 'em, who might not have had anything else to keep 'emwarm. But into town we went, and we began to shout ‘Hosanna!’ and ‘Glory!’ And as he rode, it didn'tseem to make any difference that the feet of the Son of God almost drug the ground . . . they just kept throwing palms, and piling coats in the road, and all the while we disciples shouted out ‘Blessed is the king’ – the King! – ‘who comes in the name of the Lord.’ Good old Psalm 118, that oughta clue them into who he is . . . and out of the crowds came morebranches and morecloaks . . .
“I gotta admit, he had me worried . . . all that stuff about suffering and dying. Just the other day he said ‘The Son of Man’ – that’s what he calls himself, the son of man – ‘must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, chief priests, and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised.’ and then, as if we didn’t understand him the firsttime ‘Let these words sink into your ears: The Son of Man is going to be betrayed into human hands.’ But of course we’d heardhim: The Son of Man is gonna be betrayed into human hands! It’s code,that’s what I told Andrew, it’s codethat says just the oppositeof what’s really going to happen. He can’t very well go running around Judea, telling all the worldhis plans to rule the kingdom of Israel, to overthrow the hated Romans and their Herodian lackeys... He can’t very well tell them that,now can he? The Romans have spies everywhere,behind every bush, under every rock . . . Roman spies are everywhere, and before you could say Herod the Great, Jesus would be arrested and strung up somewhere, probably on a cross or something. So he spoke in code,that’s what he did . . . but that chowderhead Andrew, he kept insisting that it must be true, because Jesus is infallible, and he wouldn’t say something that was a lie, even to save his own skin! That about made me fall on the floor laughing. Infallible, I said, who do you think he is, the Pope? Don’t you know that nobody’s infallible but God?
“And now, dear diary, we can all see that I was right, confirmed by the crowds, confirmed by the kingly entry. The crowdssure knew who their savior was, they went nutsover him, they didn’t even seem to noticethat he wasn’t exactly on a warhorse. And we were allshouting and fussing and hosanna-ing up a storm. I bet they could hear us all the way to Samaria,we were so loud. And a couple of Pharisees came up to us and tried to get us to shut up, but Jesus said ‘I tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout out.’ And that was like the final, prophetic icing on the cake, ‘cause even the Pharisees couldn’t help but get it: here, in living color, right before their very eyes stood their prophetic come-uppance, their living, breathing doompredicted so long ago by the prophet Habakkuk.
“These stoneswill shoutif you silence us! They’ll scream outin protest! Talk, talk, as fast as you can, you can’t silence us, Mr. Pharisee man . . . we’re the voice of the people, the voice of the Messiah, who’s gonna ruleya, baby! We’re gonna get down,we’re gonna party hearty, when Jesus comes into his kingdom! Gonna take on over, gonna rock-n-roll, play a little electric guit-tar on some Pharisee beards, a little rolling-thunder drum solo on some Roman heads! And all this proves it, all this screaming and Hosanna-ing and throwing-of-palms. How can they notfollow him? How can theynotcrown him King of Kings? It’s like he’s a superstar, or something – Think of it, dear diary! Jesus Christ, Superstar!
“And all the roles will be reversed, the mighty will be made low, the lowly made high, ‘cause king Jesus is coming to town! And he comes to bring good newsto the poor, to set the captives freeand bring sight to the blind! And as soon as he takes care of those Romans – and those draft-dodging, incense-burning Temple hypocrites– he’s gonna do it! There’s gonna be some sad little oppressors, stripped of all their finery, and the kitchen-help is gonna eat well tonight! It’ll be like when our ancestors came out of Egypt, and stole all the Pharaoh’s loot! And just like back then, it’ll be good to stick it to the man!”
The final entry is from 6 days later, and it’s labeled:
“March 29, Anno Domini30, in a cave, somewhere in Judea:
“It’s Friday night, and it’s cold and dank and dark . . . I can barely see to write, but I don’t dare light a larger fire. I’m afraid of the centurions . . . yeah, yeah . . . those same guys we were going to conquer, a few days ago. Just last week, we were talk of the town, we were gonna rule the world, and now . . . this. I just don’t get it . . . how could he be the Messiah when he’s in the grave? How could he be the savior, when he’s in the sod? How can he be the rescuer, the deliverer, the liberator when he’s as cold and dead as ice? What kind of king isit who’s flogged, stripped of clothes anddignity, and then spiked to a tree in a death reserved for drug dealers, mass-murderers, and pedophiles?
“I can taste the irony like a bitter tang . . . The donkey, the lowest ride around, no kingwould have come into town on one of those, and that should have given us a clue. . . but no. Hosanna! Hosanna! we said. As the branches rained down on our heads, as we tripped over all the coats strewn across the street, we were already counting our blessings – no! we were counting our loot, reserving our places in the kingdom of heaven.
“I hear all his precious twelve are gone, now, scattered like chaff before the cold east wind, I hear that Peter wouldn’t even admit he knewJesus, and that Thomas is cowering in the upper room, quaking under the table . . . but in truth am I any better? And what’s the use, anyhow? It’s over, finished, kaput. The new way, the way of Jesus, the way of justice,over before it even started. So much beauty, so much promise, nailed up to a cross, and sealed in a hillside tomb. What was God thinking? What was on God’s mind? I just don’t get it.”
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