The United States is ephemeral, but the Messiah is eternal
This Holy Week, Jesus will change the whole world. His revolution is bigger than Wall Street and the United States and can withstand them falling apart.
Based on my sermon for Palm Sunday.
As Gaza continues to be under relentless attacks and genocide, as migrants are facing illegal and unlawful deportations, I found myself a little disturbed to watch the headlines about Trump’s reckless imposition of tariffs pour in. Though they are largely on a 90-day pause, the market certainly reacted to their announcement as it tumbled. People’s anxiety was palpable about the stock market falling apart. It was, at least last week, a primary concern.
To be sure, it isn’t just billionaires that will be affected by Trump’s ham-fisted fiscal policy, but also ordinary people who will suffer with increased prices of all goods. His policy may well collapse the economy, and the most vulnerable, as always, will feel it most.
What’s more, his very politics may also bring upon us the downfall of the United States. With its economy and political order threatened, I think the faith we have put in this nation-state as our savior becomes clearer. We know that Wall Street won’t save us. We know our wealth is ephemeral, but let’s hold on to the fact that our Savior is eternal.
Again, I don’t wish the suffering that an economic depression would cause anyone, but these systems of wealth acquisition are part of the mess we are in. The richest people in the United States and across the world hold a disproportionate amount of wealth, which is largely earned for them by laborers who never get to see it. I think when those systems are threatened, how valuable they are to the United States is made clear.
But, as Jesus reminds us on Holy Week, all of this is temporary. It is all fading away. The security we find in our economy and political order is nothing matched to the promise of Victory that Jesus assures us of. Jesus reminds us of the ephemeral quality of the political order of the world.
The victory that Jesus promises us is unlike what I often imagine political victory looking like. I think we witness that on Palm Sunday and Holy Week.
When Jesus enters Jerusalem triumphantly, it’s a powerful and familiar scene. The Jewish people are under occupation. And their King’s rule seems to be inaugurated. Israel is awaiting a political savior to liberate them. They are hoping for liberation from their Roman overlords, just like they experienced in Egypt before. They want liberation and they want it in the way they envision it. But God doesn’t offer liberation in the way we often expect it. In fact, when freed from their Egyptian captors, God left the Israelites kingless, with God as their authority. They begged for a king, and a king they got, but eventually that kingdom split and was overtaken by the Assyrians and the Babylonians (political power, again, is fleeting). Eventually, Persia conquered Babylon, and Israel existed under captivity, even if they were free to worship. Rome eventually took over Persia, and that’s where we find ourselves today. So for many under occupation, this triumphal entry was meant to symbolize that sort of political liberation they were looking for. Certainly, Jesus would grant that, but he would do so much more.
Jesus rides on a colt, which is a mode of transportation fit for a king (see Zechariah 9:9) What’s more, the disciples do as Jesus says and even the colt’s owners listen to them. The Lord needs it, and subsequently, the disciples, the colt, and its owners all obey the Lord, the King.
The politics here are clear. Jesus is a King about to be inaugurated. The people shout blessings on the King, who comes in the name of God. They know it’s political. In fact, the religious leaders gathered there know it is too. These individuals are close to Jesus and they want to preserve the way of life they have. Understandably, they tell Jesus’ followers and the crowd to quiet down. They ask Jesus to order them to stop. They are worried about how the authorities will give them attention because of this disruption.
But like those who rely on the false idol of Wall Street are these people who are relying on the false idol of political power. Jesus won’t be an ordinary King. He isn’t just a new kind of the king, but the right kind of King.
Jesus has the favor of the crowd here, but the sort of liberation he is offering isn’t meant to appease them, it’s meant to provoke a radical change in the whole cosmos. Jesus lost followers when he demonstrated the radical cost of following him.
The people welcoming Jesus may not know exactly what is to come. I am not sure my imagination of God’s liberation is much better. I think that God comes to liberate me, personally, or even politically—but that’s too small. The gathered people think Jesus might be enacting a small political revolution. But this is much more than a protest. Much more than a conquest of a political power even. Jesus says if his disciples are quiet, the stones won’t be. Even the stones are affected by the event that’s about to occur. There is material consequence to what Jesus is about to do. There is something great afoot. A great battle is about to be waged against death. Death will try to swallow its opponent, Jesus, and it’ll spit him back out. Thus death is defeated.
God’s plan is bigger than Jerusalem, though; it’s bigger than the miracles for which Jesus is being praised. It’s big enough to affect the entire world. Yes, a King is coming, but it isn’t the King they are expecting to arrive. It isn’t one that will bring the king they asked for in 1 Samuel 8. But the powers are threatened, they are worried that their political order will be disrupted, religious and political leaders alike.
Today, we still think that most liberation happens through conquest and power struggles. God’s way brings through a whole other mechanism. It doesn’t come through empowerment, but in fact through disempowerment. It doesn’t come through the destruction of his enemies, but rather their forgiveness. The revolution may not be satiating for those who thirst and hunger for the blood of their enemies. The way of Jesus happens through the very fact that God became human, and also through God’s death.
Yes, Jesus is changing the whole world. It’s bigger than we can imagine. It’s greater than Wall Street and can withstand Wall Street crumbling. It’s greater than political power and can withstand the United States falling apart.
As a Christian, this Holy Week, I am invited to take up my cross too. I’m invited to follow Jesus into a new world and a new way. We’re invited to live the life of following Jesus, even if it threatens the peace of our household, the peace of our lives, the peace of our society. Sometimes the things we disrupt will fall apart, but if they do, that is OK. That is worth it. It’s worth losing some things in order to live fully.
This new and full life Jesus offers us is something that offers us hope too. The things you do, the things you say, the way you live matters. Our very lives broadcast messages of God’s enduring love to the world that is falling apart. They broadcast God’s faithfulness. God will show up again. God is faithful to us. In the depths of our despair and fear, God’s faithfulness will show us the frailty of our false idols and offer us something more. God will deliver us from death again. This week, we walk to death with God. May our despair die with God, and may our hope rise with God.
A great discussion of the real “bottom line” in all this, rather than Wall St’s and DC’s versions. That said, and this may mainly be my own preoccupation, the Christian world has seemingly never really figured out how to use and/or respond to state power without being utterly corrupted by it. An alternative has never been implemented that I’m aware of, but I’m a relative newbie.
It seems like the historical Mennonite approach, to self-marginalize to minimize interactions with the state, wasn’t done primarily from a position of transcendent love (though that’s certainly present in its peace theology), but political and economic weakness relative to the big denominations’ power brokers.
The times may be calling upon us to come up with something more robust, while also remaining faithful to our commitment to real discipleship. What that actually looks like, though, is very unclear. Hoping you might have some thoughts on it.