Someone said that New Years’ Day used to be on April 1st and when it got moved to January 1st some folks forgot, or wanted to hold on to the old one, or simply refused to acknowledge the change and so continued to celebrate New Years on April 1st. Naturally these folks were called April Fools. On the other hand, maybe I just made all that up as a faux explanation for the phenomenon of April Fools’ Day.
Maybe it has connections back to the Roman Festival of Hilaria. Think about it, wouldn’t you want to celebrate the Festival of Hilaria? Just sounds great! Or the Mediaeval Festival of Fools, that sounds like a don’t miss on everyone’s vacation schedule. Both of these were spring, or even vernal equinox celebrations when everyone goes a little crazy after a long cold winter. There was an element of turning the tables on these events, a bottom of the heap folk seeing how the other half lives dimension. They were designed to vent the pressure that sometimes leads to revolution, by acknowledging that sometimes life just isn’t fair. That the have nots are not any less than the haves. It was a chance for just a day, just a moment, to get back, to get even, to get your two cents in, a sort of “so there” in your face, thumbing your nose at those who think they are in charge of everything and everyone.
So, of course, Palm Sunday on April Fools’ Day is strangely fitting. You know the story, you’ve marched in the parade. You didn’t know you were participating in civil unrest, did you? You didn’t realize you were making a statement about how the world was ordered, I’m sure. But that is what this event was designed to do and to be. Take a look:
Mark 11:1-11 When they were approaching Jerusalem, at Bethphage and Bethany, near the Mount of Olives, he sent two of his disciples 2 and said to them, "Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately as you enter it, you will find tied there a colt that has never been ridden; untie it and bring it. 3 If anyone says to you, 'Why are you doing this?' just say this, 'The Lord needs it and will send it back here immediately.'" 4 They went away and found a colt tied near a door, outside in the street. As they were untying it, 5 some of the bystanders said to them, "What are you doing, untying the colt?" 6 They told them what Jesus had said; and they allowed them to take it. 7 Then they brought the colt to Jesus and threw their cloaks on it; and he sat on it. 8 Many people spread their cloaks on the road, and others spread leafy branches that they had cut in the fields. 9 Then those who went ahead and those who followed were shouting, "Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! 10 Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David! Hosanna in the highest heaven!" 11 Then he entered Jerusalem and went into the temple; and when he had looked around at everything, as it was already late, he went out to Bethany with the twelve.
On of the questions endlessly debated is whether this incident was accidental or planned. Did Jesus one day decide to make a trip into Jerusalem and a parade broke out? Or was this deliberately chosen and planned out to make a statement at this specific time? The truth is we may never know. But what we do know is that the Jesus who spent the first part of the Gospel of Mark telling people not to tell who he was, to keep it all a secret, all of a sudden makes a big announcement.
He rides this colt into the city of Jerusalem, and his followers walk with him and shout “Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.” Neither of those were random acts. When a king is going to war he rides a horse, when he is proclaiming himself a king of peace he rides a donkey, and only enhances that statement of peace by choosing an unridden colt. The words that were spoken come from one of the enthronement psalms, used when a new king was coming into power.
Hard to miss, really. A slap in the face to all those who thought they were in charge. A declaration of authority and power in a place of power and authority who saw him as an outsider. It was like the best April Fools’ prank ever. The one who appeared powerless is the one who is the King of Kings. The one who rode into a war zone with the authorities out for his blood, is the Prince of Peace.
Hosanna was a common word in royal psalms. It was understood by most folks to be a statement of celebration, a shout of joy and welcome. And it was. But originally it had a translation and it meant “Save Us” or “Save now!” For leader after leader, the crowds would shout save us to one who more often than not was more concerned about his own safety and prosperity. And now they shout Hosanna to the one who can save them, but most of the city doesn’t even know what is going on.
When we lift our palms and wave them on Palm Sunday morning we declare our allegiance to the Prince of Peace, the very one the world considered a fool and did its best to destroy. And perhaps we are participating in the best April Fools Day ever.
But then on the other hand, sometimes April Fools get fooled. Maybe a better description is to acknowledge that the world resists being turned upside down. Or at least it won’t stay that way for long. The powers and principalities of this world come rushing back in and order as they understand it is restored.
That is why Palm Sunday is not just Palm Sunday, it is more properly Palm/Passion Sunday. That slash is important. It is a reminder that there is risk involved in taking the side of the marginalized. There is danger in trying to upset the status quo. And just when you think you’ve won your point and gathered your crowd, you discover you are alone again.
At least that was Jesus’ experience this Holy Week. From the parade to the way of sorrows, from the king of peace riding on a donkey to a hated criminal hanging on a cross, from “Hosanna” to “Crucify him” in a matter of days. Who’s the April Fool now?
Maybe it is us, for clinging to hope in a hopeless world. Maybe it is us for embracing life in a world obsessed with death. Maybe it’s us. Maybe it’s him, proclaiming Easter joy in a Good Friday world.
Maybe so. Still, I’ll wave my palm and shout my hosannas, even though... Call it April Fools’ if you want. I’d rather be a fool for Christ anyway.
Maybe it has connections back to the Roman Festival of Hilaria. Think about it, wouldn’t you want to celebrate the Festival of Hilaria? Just sounds great! Or the Mediaeval Festival of Fools, that sounds like a don’t miss on everyone’s vacation schedule. Both of these were spring, or even vernal equinox celebrations when everyone goes a little crazy after a long cold winter. There was an element of turning the tables on these events, a bottom of the heap folk seeing how the other half lives dimension. They were designed to vent the pressure that sometimes leads to revolution, by acknowledging that sometimes life just isn’t fair. That the have nots are not any less than the haves. It was a chance for just a day, just a moment, to get back, to get even, to get your two cents in, a sort of “so there” in your face, thumbing your nose at those who think they are in charge of everything and everyone.
So, of course, Palm Sunday on April Fools’ Day is strangely fitting. You know the story, you’ve marched in the parade. You didn’t know you were participating in civil unrest, did you? You didn’t realize you were making a statement about how the world was ordered, I’m sure. But that is what this event was designed to do and to be. Take a look:
Mark 11:1-11 When they were approaching Jerusalem, at Bethphage and Bethany, near the Mount of Olives, he sent two of his disciples 2 and said to them, "Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately as you enter it, you will find tied there a colt that has never been ridden; untie it and bring it. 3 If anyone says to you, 'Why are you doing this?' just say this, 'The Lord needs it and will send it back here immediately.'" 4 They went away and found a colt tied near a door, outside in the street. As they were untying it, 5 some of the bystanders said to them, "What are you doing, untying the colt?" 6 They told them what Jesus had said; and they allowed them to take it. 7 Then they brought the colt to Jesus and threw their cloaks on it; and he sat on it. 8 Many people spread their cloaks on the road, and others spread leafy branches that they had cut in the fields. 9 Then those who went ahead and those who followed were shouting, "Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! 10 Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David! Hosanna in the highest heaven!" 11 Then he entered Jerusalem and went into the temple; and when he had looked around at everything, as it was already late, he went out to Bethany with the twelve.
On of the questions endlessly debated is whether this incident was accidental or planned. Did Jesus one day decide to make a trip into Jerusalem and a parade broke out? Or was this deliberately chosen and planned out to make a statement at this specific time? The truth is we may never know. But what we do know is that the Jesus who spent the first part of the Gospel of Mark telling people not to tell who he was, to keep it all a secret, all of a sudden makes a big announcement.
He rides this colt into the city of Jerusalem, and his followers walk with him and shout “Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.” Neither of those were random acts. When a king is going to war he rides a horse, when he is proclaiming himself a king of peace he rides a donkey, and only enhances that statement of peace by choosing an unridden colt. The words that were spoken come from one of the enthronement psalms, used when a new king was coming into power.
Hard to miss, really. A slap in the face to all those who thought they were in charge. A declaration of authority and power in a place of power and authority who saw him as an outsider. It was like the best April Fools’ prank ever. The one who appeared powerless is the one who is the King of Kings. The one who rode into a war zone with the authorities out for his blood, is the Prince of Peace.
Hosanna was a common word in royal psalms. It was understood by most folks to be a statement of celebration, a shout of joy and welcome. And it was. But originally it had a translation and it meant “Save Us” or “Save now!” For leader after leader, the crowds would shout save us to one who more often than not was more concerned about his own safety and prosperity. And now they shout Hosanna to the one who can save them, but most of the city doesn’t even know what is going on.
When we lift our palms and wave them on Palm Sunday morning we declare our allegiance to the Prince of Peace, the very one the world considered a fool and did its best to destroy. And perhaps we are participating in the best April Fools Day ever.
But then on the other hand, sometimes April Fools get fooled. Maybe a better description is to acknowledge that the world resists being turned upside down. Or at least it won’t stay that way for long. The powers and principalities of this world come rushing back in and order as they understand it is restored.
That is why Palm Sunday is not just Palm Sunday, it is more properly Palm/Passion Sunday. That slash is important. It is a reminder that there is risk involved in taking the side of the marginalized. There is danger in trying to upset the status quo. And just when you think you’ve won your point and gathered your crowd, you discover you are alone again.
At least that was Jesus’ experience this Holy Week. From the parade to the way of sorrows, from the king of peace riding on a donkey to a hated criminal hanging on a cross, from “Hosanna” to “Crucify him” in a matter of days. Who’s the April Fool now?
Maybe it is us, for clinging to hope in a hopeless world. Maybe it is us for embracing life in a world obsessed with death. Maybe it’s us. Maybe it’s him, proclaiming Easter joy in a Good Friday world.
Maybe so. Still, I’ll wave my palm and shout my hosannas, even though... Call it April Fools’ if you want. I’d rather be a fool for Christ anyway.
Shalom,
Derek
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