The Good News is... love lived out -- Matthew 21:1-17 (Palm Sunday)
- Scott Clark
- 2 days ago
- 10 min read
Artwork: "Palm Sunday Was a Protest" by Nicolette Faison,
used with copyright permission
A Sanctified Art LLC | sanctifiedart.org
Palm Sunday was a protest... a demonstration. When Jesus and the crowd process into Jerusalem, they are saying something – with their voices and with their bodies, together. They are saying something to the powers.
The Herods of the world... and Rome.. they rule with an iron fist – through violence, threat, and intimidation. We know what that looks like.
Jesus and the crowd – as they move their bodies together into Jerusalem – they are saying, “No. No – This is what God’s power looks like – riding into town on a donkey – full of humility, and healing, and human decency. God’s reign is here – not you Caesar, not you Herod, not all you conspiring and collaborating religious leaders.” And all this protest delivers its message; it makes the powers more than a little nervous.
It’s fascinating to me that yesterday’s protests just happened to fall on the weekend that we also observe Palm Sunday. Yesterday, many of us were out in the streets together, saying something – with our voices and our bodies, together. We had our signs, and our sunblock – some of us had costumes – all of us standing for justice, peace, and the well-being of all people, and standing against authoritarian power that demeans and harms.
There was great energy at those protests. But even so, in activist circles, it has become somewhat fashionable to be a bit dismissive of protests and demonstrations as “merely performative.” “All these people coming out for one day, with their homemade signs, and then going back home – that’s just performative.”
My first response to that is: “Well. Yeah.” Protests and demonstrations are performative – by their very nature. Protest is – what in the world of 1st Amendment law – we would call “demonstrative speech.” We gather to make a point to our leaders (and to each other) not only with our voices and our words, but with our very gathering. We make meaning by how we place and move our bodies together in space and time.
Rebecca Solnit describes it like this: In demonstrations, we bring our embodied selves together, “moving through public space for expressive and public purposes.”[1] We “align our bodies with our hearts.” “We walk together, “common movement toward a common goal.” “We walk together, and the whole street is for stamping out the meaning of the day.”[2] Performative protest is one of the central ways that ordinary folks can speak to power “unsegregated by walls, unmediated by those with more power.” “Our walking becomes testimony.”
As Solnit puts it, “citizenship is predicated on the sense of having something in common with strangers.”[3] Protest is one of the ways that we express and embody that commonality – one of the ways we stand together for the common good. It’s so fundamental to democracy that it’s protected and provided for in the First Amendment. We all know that the First Amendment gives us the right to free speech. What doesn’t get as much airtime is the “right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances” For the Founders, that right was (and is) just as fundamental a foundation of our democracy. There’s no “merely” to performative protest.
Ned Resnikoff – who has written in defense of being performative – notes that democracy is “inherently performative.”[4] Democracy only works when citizens perform it. When they live it out. Events like Saturday’s demonstrations give us the opportunity to bring our voices and bodies together for the common good.
I think the real critique – when people say, “Oh, that’s merely performative” – I think the real critique – the real question is a question of integrity or authenticity: “Now that you have protested – now that you have gathered together and stood for something good, and said all your words – Will you continue to live it out? How will you now live it out?”
Palm Sunday is a protest. The people go before and follow Jesus, shouting and embodying together Good News. Holy Week is how that Good News then gets lived out.
We know the Palm Sunday story.[5] We perform it every year. As the culmination to all his preaching, and teaching, and proclaiming Good News, Jesus rides into Jerusalem on a donkey, to the shouts and acclamation of an adoring crowd.
What Jesus is doing here is what kings do. It’s not hard to imagine another procession on the other side of town – the arrival of Pontius Pilate on behalf of the Roman Empire – sent for this festival season to make sure the crowds don’t get out of hand – to make sure there’s no trouble – no uprising. It’s likely a very different procession – with the horses and the troops and the armor and the weaponry. Pilate processes in, in what one writer has called, “the gaudy glory of empire.”[6]
Jesus is riding like a King, into Jerusalem, riding right into Herod’s world – riding right into Herod’s seat of power. And remember, the Herod family has long been worried about this one who was proclaimed king at his birth. (The Old Herod launched a genocide to try to eradicate the threat.)[7]
The Good News of what God is doing in the world is riding into town to confront the powers. That is what’s being embodied, and performed here – a protest that challenges the power of Herod and of the Empire Herod serves.
What Jesus is doing here is what kings do – and it is different too. Jesus is riding in on a donkey – not a powerful steed. (Two donkeys actually – did you notice that? The prophet Zechariah mentions two donkeys – so Matthew tells it with two donkeys – to make absolutely clear that what is happening here is what God has been doing all along. From the prophets up until now.)[8] Different from the kings they know, Jesus rides in humbly, gently. And a crowd offers their humble cloaks to pave his royal way.
And look at that crowd. Look who has showed up. Who would dare come out and proclaim this Jesus king, while the powers are watching?
· Well, we know there are children – waving palms and singing Hosanna.
· And... there are those who have followed Jesus... the poor in spirit, the meek, the merciful, the peacemakers, those who hunger and thirst for justice.
· We know that there are those seeking healing. There are likely those whom Jesus has already healed – still rejoicing – those who could not walk, running and leaping into the city; those who could not speak, shouting Hosanna; everybody seeing... seeing these bodies whole and healed coming together.
· Maybe some... or most of the 5,000 are there... those who know what it is to be hungry, and know what it is to be fed; those who know what it is to share what they have and discover that there is enough for everyone.
· Maybe the woman is there – the one who washed Jesus’ feet with her tears and her hair – still weeping, her lingering sorrow intermingled with her overflowing joy.[9]
· Maybe there are some, who as children, like Jesus, survived Herod’s genocide – walking side by side with the parents of the infants whom Herod killed, marching together with steely resolve.
· There are the immigrants, and the orphans, and the widows – all those who the systems have held low. The poor in spirit, the meek, the merciful – all those whose backs are up against the wall.
This procession is a living, breathing Beatitude. All of them – leading Jesus into the city, and following him in. Walking together, and shouting, and singing – Hosanna! Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in God’s name. Hosanna in the highest heavens! Hosanna right here and right now!
Do you see? Do you see why the whole city is in an uproar? Do you see why the latest Herod trembles in his palace? From the moment that star appeared in the sky and wise folk followed, the path has been leading to this moment. The kingdom of God – the reign of God has come to life – and there is no stopping it – there is no turning back. Here Jesus comes, humbly and riding on a donkey. Blessed are the poor in spirit, the meek and the merciful, the peacemakers, and those who hunger and thirst for justice. Blessed are you. Blessed is the one who comes in God’s name. Hosanna!
Palm Sunday is a protest... the Good News of God’s love for the whole world in Jesus Christ – performed, proclaimed, and embodied. And what comes next .. after the protest... what comes next, across the broad sweep of Holy Week is how all that Good News gets lived out... once and for all.
And we know that what comes next in Holy Week will not be easy. As Jesus enters into Jerusalem, the powers set traps for him, questions to trip him up. Jesus doesn’t shy away from the challenge. He provokes the powers. Woe to you hypocrites! Woe to you Pharisees and teachers of the law! Woe to you who neglect justice, mercy, and faithfulness! Tax collectors and prostitutes will enter the kingdom of heaven before you. Jesus announces that the houses of power will be coming down – not one stone will be left on another – and tells those who follow him to keep watch. He says to the powers, “What will ultimately matter is not your power – it’s whether you have fed the hungry, welcomed the stranger, and tended to the sick.” And, the powers will plan his arrest. Jesus will be tried and he will be crucified. We know the story of Holy Week.
And in the midst of all that – along the way – someone will challenge Jesus, “Jesus what is the commandment that matters the most?” And Jesus will respond, “Love. Love God. Love each other. Love your neighbor as yourself.”
What comes next, over the broad sweep of Holy Week, is how love gets lived out.
We get a glimpse of that emerging in this morning’s Scripture. The Palm Sunday procession leads right to the Temple. Jesus strides in and chases out the buyers, the sellers, and the moneylenders – he overturns the tables of power – all the economic machinery of the corrupt systems of power. We’ve heard that story – a couple things I’ve never noticed before.
After Jesus turns those tables over, he heals folks. Did you see that? There’s all this tumult. Tables and chairs flying. And then, the blind and lame come to Jesus for healing. They’ve been there all along. One writer says that, in the midst of all this chaos, there is nothing more usual than people coming to Jesus in need, and Jesus tending to their needs: “People come; Jesus heals.”[10] What’s unusual, what’s new – is that he is now healing in the temple – in the heart of power.[11]
And the children are singing. Did you notice that. They have been there all along. Singing Hosanna.
Jesus and the crowds process into the city
and the children sing
Jesus turns the tables in the Temple
and the children sing
The blind and the lame come to Jesus for healing
and the children sing
The people come; and Jesus heals
and the children sing
Hosanna. Hosanna. Hosanna.
Remember: The Gospel of Matthew is the gospel that begins with Herod trying to kill all the children who might be Jesus – he launches a genocide to kill all the children who might threaten his power. And here we are in Herod’s city, right in the Temple – as everything comes to a head – as everything is at stake – and the children are singing.
The high priests and the scribes can’t stand that. I’ve always thought it was the turning of the tables that got them fired up – and there is that.
But here, Scripture says what angers the powers is people getting healed and children singing.[12] The powers don’t want the people healed, and they never have. The powers want to maintain their power. It is in the interests of the powers that the people stay helpless and hurt.
Nothing is more threatening to the powers than our bodies, healed and whole, coming together with a shout and with a song. Luke puts the Magnificat in the voice of Mary – God is bringing down the powers and lifting up the lowly. Matthew lets the children sing that out.
Hosanna. Hosanna. Hosanna.
Palm Sunday’s protest has brought us to this point,
and here we get the first Holy Week glimpse of how love gets lived out.
Yesterday at the San Rafael rally, Pastor Floyd Thompkins pointed out the difference between a rally and a movement. A rally is a one-time event; a movement is when you keep going – when you go home and tell the neighbors, and with them, keep working for good.
As we stand on the threshold of Holy Week, the Hosannas of Palm Sunday leave us with those questions we asked last week – you know, as we were looking forward to the protest.[13]They are questions as to carry with us out of Palm Sunday and on into Holy Week. They are questions we might ask with every new day – Holy Week and beyond:
As we move into Holy Week, and at the start of each new day –
what will you stand FOR?
As we move into Holy Week, and at the start of each new day –
how will you stand with the most vulnerable – with our immigrant neighbors, with children, with anyone and everyone harmed on the regular by the powers of this world?
As we move into Holy Week, and at the start of each new day – all this good news,
all this lavish love: How will you live it out?
© 2026 Scott Clark
[1] See Rebecca Solnit, Wanderlust: A History of Walking (Penguin Random House, 2000), pp.213-218.
[2] Id. p.217.
[3] Id. p.218.
[5] For background on the Gospel of Matthew and its telling of the Palm Sunday Story, see O. Wesley Allen, Jr., Commentary in Connections, Year A, vol. 2 (Louisville, KY; Westminster John Knox Press, 2019); M. Eugene Boring, “The Gospel of Matthew,” New Interpreters’ Bible Commentary, vol. viii (Nashville, TN: Abingdon Press, 1995); Michael Joseph Brown, “The Gospel of Matthew” in True to Our Native Land: An African American New Testament Commentary (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 2008); Diane G. Chen, Commentary in Connections, Year A, vol. 2 (Louisville, KY; Westminster John Knox Press, 2019); Emmanuel Y. Lartey, Commentary in Feasting on the Gospels: Matthew, vol.2 (Louisville, KY; Westminster John Knox Press, 20103), pp.152-57; Mary H. Schertz, Commentary in Feasting on the Gospels: Matthew, vol.2 (Louisville, KY; Westminster John Knox Press, 20103), pp.152-57; Herman C. Waetjen, Matthew’s Theology of Fulfillment, Its Universality and It’s Ethnicity (London, UK: Bloomsbury Publishing, 2017).
[6] See H. Stephen Shoemaker, Commentary in Feasting on the Word, Year C, vol. 2 (Louisville, KY; Westminster John Knox Press, 2009), pp. 153-57, citing Borg and Crossan, The Last Week (New York: HarperSanFrancisco, 2006), p. 1-5.
[8] See Allen, p.112; Boring, pp.402-03.
[10] See Schertz, pp.153-55; see also Lartey, pp. 152-54.
[11] See id.
[12] See Lartey, pp.152-54; Shertz, pp.153-55.
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