Progressive reflections on the lectionary #61

Monday 7th April 2025

Luke 19:28-40 Even Luke can't disguise the skulduggery and theatrics as Jesus pulls an audacious move; (and what 'the stones' really refers to).

“We’ve got to be a bit cautious about security,” a protestor told me as they explained they’d be taking part in an organised piece of civil disobedience. “So you might not be able to get hold of me…”

Secret plans had been made, meeting points established, passwords and codes worked out, after all, the danger of infiltration by undercover police meant that they had to be very careful about who knew what.

Careless talk might not cost lives in 21st century Britain, but it could ruin plans. The stakes were somewhat higher 2000 years ago as Jesus and his disciples made risky arrangements for his theatrical arrival in Jerusalem. Disobedience, whether civil or otherwise, could result in bloodshed. It had before… it would again.

“How will we know it’s definitely them?” The keepers of the animal that had been earmarked for Jesus’ anti empire stunt would have asked, when working out to whom they should hand it over. “The password will be Kyrios,” they would have heard.

Kyrios, meaning ‘Lord’ or ‘Master’ - a kind of codename for Jesus. “Remember, when you get there you have to say ‘Kyrios needs it’,” the disciples are told in this week’s lectionary passage.

Like any effective eye-catching action, Jesus’ entry plan is well worked out. He is to enter the city from the east, from the ‘Mount of Olives’ direction, while the Roman garrison reinforcements arrive from the West, just as they did every year. The one procession was meant to demonstrate power and authority, the other was meant to undermine it.

The soldiers were there to prevent any Passover related disorder, the Passover after all is a feast celebrating liberation from an Imperial power and as such was a spur to unrest and uprising. Since the violence of 4BCE when a mass uprising had led to the Roman eagle being torn down extra troops had been stationed in the province. That revolt had led to the deaths of thousands of insurgents - many of them crucified.

This particular year, like the previous ones, the Roman garrison reinforcements, accompanying the consul, Pontius Pilate, himself were travelling to the city from the base of Legion VI at Caesarea Maritima and heading to Fortress Antonia which overlooks the sprawling Temple complex. As they entered the city they would have been formally welcomed by the city elite, their path cleared as the Roman eagle standard was processed forward.

Jesus’ carefully timed and planned entry sees him entering the city on the same side as the Temple itself - both a mirror image of the Roman entry and a route that allows opportunity for escape.

A network of supporters stood ready to create a spectacle of their own, a noisy and colourful welcome of the alternative ruler which lampoons the sort of pomp and ceremony that Pilate or any other occupying ‘Lord’ would have expected.

Instead of an imperial war horse Jesus’ has a colt, the sort of animal specified in the prophetic tradition, and instead of ranks of soldiers, weapons gleaming in the sun, Jesus has ordinary people - peasants, artisans waving cloaks and branches.

Instead of praising the power and might of Rome the people shout for an alternative vision of kingship: “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest heaven!”

Of the four evangelists Luke is, perhaps, the most coy about this piece of theatre. he doesn’t include the word that all the others do, “hosanna” which means “save us” - another nod to the fact that this book is likely to have been written to be read in Rome itself. Luke can’t hide the reality of Jesus’ spectacular entry, but he can quietly excise one or two of the most incriminating details.

What Luke can’t disguise is that this is a political stunt: a piece of theatre designed to aggravate the authorities. It worries the pharisees who can see it’s going to cause trouble.

“Teacher, order your disciples to stop,” they urge him, and here Luke does his best to emphasise Jesus’ non violence. “I tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout out…” Why is this significant? Because rocks, easily concealable and famously deadly when it comes to bringing down gigantic oppressors when wielded with a leather strap, were a weapon of choice for Jewish insurgents. If there’s any doubt about that, then let Josephus remind us of the violent events of 4BCE:

“However, the Romans ventured to make a sally out of the place, and a terrible battle ensued; wherein, though it is true the Romans beat their adversaries, yet were not the Jews daunted in their resolutions, even when they had the sight of that terrible slaughter that was made of them; but they went round about, and got upon those cloisters which encompassed the outer court of the temple, where a great fight was still continued, and they cast stones at the Romans, partly with their hands, and partly with slings, as being much used to those exercises..”

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Image: Photo of pebbles by Locke Nunez on Unsplash