From Palms to Passion

In April 1865, Joy Was Quickly Replaced by Grief. Just Like the First Holy Week.

Exactly 160 years ago, the citizens of the Nation’s Capital moved from triumph to tragedy.

First, the triumph: On April 4, 1865, the Civil War was ending and news of the fall of Richmond was spreading through Washington. In celebration, public buildings through the city were illuminated.

“It was indeed glorious,” said Benjamin Brown French, the commissioner of public buildings, “all Washington was in the streets.” French went to his Bible and turned to Psalm 118. He had the 23^rd verse printed on a cloth, in enormous letters, and then raised it on the Capitol building: “This is the Lord’s doing,” said the verse; “it is marvelous in our eyes.”

Celebrations continued through April 9, Palm Sunday, when Confederate General Robert E. Lee surrendered at Appomattox. In Washington, guns were fired in salute, to commemorate the day. The euphoria of the Union victory was felt throughout the Holy Week that followed, with crowds taking to the streets.

Then, the tragedy: On April 14, Good Friday, President Lincoln was shot while attending a play at Ford’s Theatre. The president was taken to a house across the street, where he lay dying. Senator Charles Sumner of Massachusetts appeared at his bedside and kept vigil through the night. He was one of the few people present when Lincoln died on the morning of April 15. Later, Sumner wrote a eulogy that said, “Mourn not the dead, but rejoice in his life and example.”

From triumph to tragedy, in just one week. One day, citizens of Washington were celebrating in the streets. A short time later, they were lining up for a massive funeral procession for the president. Like the residents of Jerusalem, they moved quickly from palms to passion.

On the first Palm Sunday, Jesus and his disciples were on the road to Jerusalem, the nation’s capital. He sent two of his disciples into a village ahead of them, telling them that they would find a colt that had never been ridden. This was not a war horse like Traveller — the horse that Lee rode into many battles. No, the colt that Jesus wanted was a symbol of peace, not war. “Untie it,” said Jesus, “and bring it here” (Luke 19:30).

The disciples departed and found the scene that Jesus had described. As they were untying the colt, its owners asked them, “Why are you untying the colt?” They said, “The Lord needs it” (vv. 32-34). The owners immediately released the colt. Perhaps they were supportive of Jesus and expecting him; the phrase “The Lord needs it” could have been a kind of a code. Or perhaps the Spirit moved in their hearts, and they responded with generosity. In any case, they released the young colt for Jesus to use.

Then the disciples brought the colt to Jesus, threw their cloaks on it to create a kind of saddle, and set Jesus on it. Luke tells us, “As he rode along, people kept spreading their cloaks on the road” (v. 36). Notice what is missing from Luke’s story: Palms. Matthew tells us that people “cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road” (21:8). Mark says that people “spread leafy branches” (11:8), and John reports that they “took branches of palm trees” (12:13). For whatever reason, Luke is not interested in palms.

Fortunately, the Bible gives us four accounts of Palm Sunday, not only one. As Jesus was moving along the path, down from the Mount of Olives, the whole multitude began to praise God joyfully for all the deeds of power that they had seen. They shouted, “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest heaven!” (v. 38).

They were quoting Psalm 118, the same psalm that had been put on the United States Capitol at the end of the Civil War. “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the LORD” (v. 26), said the multitude in Jerusalem. “This is the LORD’s doing; it is marvelous in our eyes” (v. 23), said the banner on the Capitol.

In both capital cities, the mood on Palm Sunday was one of triumph. In ancient Israel, palms were signs of victory and goodness. Similar to the illumination of public buildings in April of 1865.

But triumph moved quickly to tragedy in Washington, DC, and palms were replaced by passion in the city of Jerusalem. The word passion means “suffering,” and the passion of Jesus Christ began very soon after his triumphal entry on a colt.

After entering Jerusalem, he wept over the city. Then he cleansed the temple. His authority was questioned by the chief priests, scribes and elders of the people. Jesus predicted the destruction of the temple and spoke of signs and persecutions. Then the plot to kill Jesus unfolded, culminating in his betrayal, arrest, and crucifixion. Holy Week in Jerusalem moved quickly from palms to passion, from celebration to suffering.

While some might find this to be a surprising turn of events, there are hints of the passion to be found in the events of Palm Sunday. When Jesus arrives on a colt instead of a war horse, you know that he is a very different kind of king. “Jesus does not come to conquer the city,” writes theologian Ian Paul; “he comes to be conquered.” He achieves his goals not by military strength, but by sacrifice. In this great reversal, Jesus comes “to win an even more profound victory.”

The victory of Jesus is not the triumph we would expect. Instead of attacking the hated Roman Empire, he enters Jerusalem with a message of peace. Instead of begging God to spare him, he prays, “not my will but yours be done” (Luke 22:42). When the crowd on Palm Sunday shouts, “Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest heaven!” (19:38), they are not yet aware how this peace will be won. They do not yet grasp that Jesus will be making peace between people and God through his death on the cross.

Jesus resolves a dispute, but it is not between Jews and Romans in first-century Jerusalem. Instead, it is between humans and God in every time and place. In Jesus Christ, “God was reconciling the world to himself,” says the apostle Paul to the Corinthians, “not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting the message of reconciliation to us” (2 Corinthians 5:19).

We have a message of reconciliation, a message of peace: One that is based on the sacrifice of Jesus Christ.

“This is why he brings praise and joy,” says theologian Paul: “because his death and resurrection have dealt with the things which separate us from God and from one another. This is the power he offers: power to know forgiveness and peace of mind.”

The reason we feel joy during Holy Week is not because Jesus is a hero of Jerusalem. No, it is because he is our Lord and Savior, in every time and place. His death breaks down the barrier that separates us from God and one another. His sacrifice unleashes a power that provides us with forgiveness and peace of mind.

This Holy Week presents us each with a challenge. We can stand with the multitude and shout, “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest heaven!” (Luke 19:38). Or we can join the Pharisees in the crowd who say to him, “Teacher, order your disciples to stop” (v. 39). If we stand with the multitude, we are saying that we believe in Christ’s message of peace and his surprising victory over sin and death. If we join the Pharisees, we are saying that Jesus is not worthy of celebration.

So, where do you stand? Are you willing to accept the connection between palms and passion? Between triumph and tragedy? Jesus is aware that some in the crowd will stop their praises, but he knows equally well that God’s will must be done. “I tell you,” he says to the Pharisees, “if these were silent, the stones would shout out” (v. 40).

Let’s stand with the multitude and begin the journey from the triumph of Jesus’ entry to his passion and death on Good Friday. We will remember and mourn his death, but also rejoice in his life, his example, and his work. The full Christian life accepts both palms and passion, triumph and tragedy.