Luke 19:28-40; April 13, 2025; Palm Sunday
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“If these were silent, the stones would shout.” – Luke 19:40
One of my favorite books of all time is this huge, mammoth work by Susanna Clarke called “Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell.” It’s about dueling magicians, set in the historical period of early 19th century England, when Napoleon is attempting to dominate the whole of Europe.
It’s brilliant and witty, full of Jane Austin-esque humor, and it’s something you can live in for months on end. And I swear, Susanna has not paid me a cent for saying so!
Anyway, one of my favorite storylines is this running prophecy about a servant, of low birth, who will one day become a king, and where nature paves his way and bows before him in homage.
You all want to hear it; the prophecy? Well, you really don’t have a choice! It goes like this:
“The rain shall make a door for me and I shall pass through it;
The stones shall make a throne for me and I shall sit upon it…
The nameless slave shall wear a silver crown
The nameless slave shall be a king in a strange country…”
Oh man, that brings me back and makes me want to read this with y’all all over again!
But better yet, we heard a preview of it this morning. Here in our own text. Where Jesus, also a servant, once born in a lowly manger, rides in on a colt to Jerusalem by way of Bethany and Bethphage (which we will talk about it in just a moment), and has cloaks (yes cloaks; there are no palms in Luke’s account) laid down before him in homage as the people sing: “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord!”
You see, my friends? You see!? Jonathan Strange and the Bible. A great spring or summer reading combination 😊
Bethany, you might recall, was the home of Jesus’ friends Mary, Martha, and Lazarus. And it’s there in Bethany, that Jesus performed one of his greatest miracles, proving that he has the power to conquer death in bringing Lazarus back to life. Remember that?
And Bethphage… well, it’s its name literally means: “the house of unripe figs.” Which might remind you of a couple of weeks ago where Jesus talked about a fig tree, and how we are running out of time to produce fruit. Remember that?
Jesus then, my friends, is on his way to the City of Peace, Jerusalem, and is coming by way of these other places, in his strange country, reminding us not only who he is as King, but also, the hope and expectation that he has for us as his citizens, as his disciples.
That we can worship him — laying down our palms and cloaks. But also, that we should know and live as people of his resurrection, for and by the peace he brings. The peace he preaches. The peace he shouts from the mountain-tops as our Messiah.
The peace, that yet so often eludes us, even though we pray and sing for it every Sunday.
“If these were silent, the stones would shout.”
Immediately, right after our verses conclude, Luke writes this: “As Jesus came near and saw Jerusalem (the city of Peace) he wept over it, saying, ‘If you, even you, had only recognized on this day the things that make for peace! But they are hidden from your eyes.” – Luke 19:41-42
And the story which immediately follows these verses, is the one where Jesus flips over the tables in the Temple out of anger. Remember that one?
Weeping and anger. As peace and understanding eludes his people.
“If these were silent, the stones would shout.”
Luke is shouting at us today, my friends, that Jesus has come. That he has ridden into our lives towards peace, on a humble colt. And that he has done so disrupting all of our expectations and assumptions of what power looks like and is therefore giving us a history lesson on what true leadership looks like, which is certainly not that of a tyrannical king, but a humble servant.
And that he has done this knowing full well that we, as his strange people, will still ultimately betray him. That our shouts of “Hosanna” (also curiously not seen in Luke’s account) and our chants of “Peace in Heaven” will soon be replaced by cries of “Crucify!” “Crucify Him!” Such that we will all fall silent like Peter, like cowardly disciples, instead of being there with him in the end, rising up for and with him.
Palm Sunday then, which begins with such wonderful pomp and celebration, soon turns into one of the world’s greatest laments. As we take Jesus off of his donkey and chaperone him towards the cross. Helping to drive the nails into his wrists and ankles as we live our sinful lives in rejection of him.
Oh, but don’t despair too much, my friends… for here’s the most amazing thing: “even if these were silent, the stones would shout.”
Even if we as his disciples become silent and cease to follow him in action, creation will shout in our place; for its king has not only come to this strange world, but has also created it, and upon the Heavenly throne the natural world and cosmos will also be redeemed!
Barbara Brown Taylor, in her great book (well, all of her books are great), Learning to Walk in the Dark, beautifully reimagines Matthew 27:51, when she writes:
“When the Word fell silent on Golgatha — when, after a loud cry, both the high sound of Jesus’ nervous system and the low sound of his beating heart stopped — the earth shook with grief. Rocks made the only sound they could, splitting open with small explosions that were their best version of tears… The whole inanimate world leapt in to fill that silence, while poor, dumb humanity stood speechless before the cross.
The whole inanimate world leapt, my friends. And it leaps still.
Which is confirmed in Habakkuk chapter 2, verse 11, where the Old Testament prophecy says: “The very stones will cry out from the wall, and the plaster will respond from the woodwork.”
And, elsewhere, in Psalm 148, verses 9 and 13: “Mountains and all hills, fruit trees and all cedars! They praise the name of the Lord, for his glory is above earth and heaven.
And, in Romans chapter 8, verse 22: “We know that the whole creation has been groaning in labor pains until now”
Until now… For Jesus, my friends, has come. Adorned with a crown.
And though our own voices are often rendered silent, having been muzzled by powers or principalities, or outright fear or cowardice, the rest of God’s creation will not and cannot be quiet!
For it all sings to God! In the dawn chorus at night. In the bird song at graveside. In the tides that wash in and out, and in the stars that pierce the clouds.
For nothing can or has ever stopped the light that is coming. And, that is already here.
Oh, some might try. And in a couple days, on Friday, some might think that they have. Hanging it on a wooden cross and burying it in a tomb hewn from stone.
But… don’t they know that these stones shout? And more, that they will roll away?
They pave his way, my friends! Such that even when we don’t, creation pays him homage.
For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all of creation will ever be able to (Romans 8:38-39) hold this guy down; not on his triumphant march into Jerusalem, nor on his journey beyond the cross towards life itself.
For, as it bears repeating: “Jesus is on the loose!” And out there, and everywhere, he promotes his peace.
So, be at peace, my friends. And then go and live in peace.
Amen.
Amen.
