Homily for the Feast of the Lord’s Entry into Jerusalem #
Today’s feast mentally transports us to the sorrowful final days of the earthly life of our Lord Jesus Christ. On the day following the miraculous resurrection of His friend Lazarus from the dead, the Lord Jesus Christ set out from Bethany toward Jerusalem.
Great crowds of people followed Christ and went out to meet Him. Upon reaching the Mount of Olives, before entering the city, He paused and sent two of His disciples, Peter and John, into a nearby village along the road, saying to them: there ye shall find a colt tied, whereon yet never man sat; loose him, and bring him hither. And if any man ask you, Why do ye this? say ye that the Lord hath need of him.
The disciples went and did all as Jesus had commanded them. They brought the colt, and Christ, sitting upon it, made His way toward Jerusalem, thus fulfilling the prophecy of Zechariah, who foretold: “Fear not, daughter of Sion: behold, thy King cometh unto thee, he is just, and having salvation; lowly, and riding upon an ass, and upon a colt the foal of an ass” (Zechariah 9:9). Through these words, the prophet revealed that the true King of Sion would not appear before men as a fearsome and dreadful ruler, surrounded by multitudes of cruel warriors; on the contrary, He would enter His Kingdom in the guise of humility, poverty, and modesty, seated upon an ass. Jesus, the righteous King, came to save in meekness, as the Lord Himself says of Himself: “Learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart” (Matthew 11:29).
Saint Gregory Palamas writes: “And so, having raised Lazarus from the dead, the King, mounted upon a donkey, thus entered Jerusalem; and all the people—children and elders, men and women alike—immediately streamed toward Him as to the Giver of Life and Conqueror of death, falling down before Him, and then with one accord singing: Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!” The song of praise, “Hosanna,” is offered unto God, for translated it means, “Save, O Lord.” And by adding “in the highest,” they showed that the Son of David is praised not only on earth by men, but also in heaven by the angels.
Many of those who welcomed the Savior, in their joy, took off their outer garments and spread them upon the path before Christ; others cut down branches of palm trees—which are symbols of victory—and likewise laid them in His way. And all, with one voice, even the little children, cried aloud: Hosanna! Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord, the King of Israel! Hosanna in the highest!
Thus the people, inspired by the Holy Spirit, with childlike innocence and guilelessness, offered praise unto the Lord, rejoicing that He had given life to Lazarus, who had lain dead four days, thereby revealing Himself as God. The Lord humbly accepted this glorification and singing, for He knew: “If these should hold their peace, the stones would immediately cry out” (Luke 19:40).
But the scribes and Pharisees were indignant. These malicious men did not understand the prophecy: “Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings thou hast perfected praise.” The learned scribes could not comprehend that the foretold coming of the Savior to the world was now being fulfilled before their very eyes. Like blind men, they refused to see the multitude of miracles worked by the Lord—the healing of the sick, the raising of the dead. Their earthly and prideful wisdom had made them blind.
Yet such blind sages are not found only in Jerusalem. Even in our own time, there are people who know not God, who seeing see not, and hearing they understand not—those who in nothing perceive the providence of God, who turn neither their minds nor their hearts toward Him. These so-called wise men still do not see the Hand of God in all things—so evident to those who are simple in faith. And over such proud “scholars” is fulfilled the voice of God: “For judgment I am come into this world, that they which see not might see; and that they which see might be made blind” (John 9:39). Only a humble mind and a good heart can attain the knowledge of truth; only childlike simplicity of soul can behold the radiance of the Divine Light and receive the Kingdom of God. Let us also be meek and guileless like children, when we go to meet the Lord, when we glorify Him as the Conqueror of passions, of both visible and invisible enemies, when we place our hope in His timely and saving help.
There are three necessary conditions which we Christians must fulfill as we go forth to meet the Lord and Savior. First, we must, in true repentance, cast down our “garments of sin” at His feet. These garments are our passionate attachments to the flesh, which we must subject to the spirit. These “sinful garments” we have worn for so long, and now, in sincere repentance, let us cast them off, having “put off the old man with his deeds” (Colossians 3:9).
Second, we must hold in our hands the symbols of the palm branches of victory, as did the people who welcomed the Lord. These branches of triumph we can raise when we have overcome our enemies—the sinful world and the devil.
And third, having repented and conquered ourselves, we may, with great spiritual joy and reverence, cry aloud: Hosanna! Blessed is he that cometh!—and welcome Christ in the great mystery of Communion at the Holy Table—of His Life-Giving Body and Blood!
At the Vigil, we hold branches of the willow tree. What does this signify? According to ancient custom, victors are welcomed with branches. We render this honor to Christ as the Conqueror of death, as the Herald of the coming Resurrection. The branches we hold in our hands are cut from the willow—a tree that is the first to come alive after the deadly chill of winter—symbolizing the triumph of life over death through the power of the risen Giver of Life, Christ.
Brethren! The Lord entered Jerusalem as a meek and saving King, but He shall one day come as a dread and righteous Judge. And how shall we meet Him then? He Himself explains this to us in the Parable of the Last Judgment, when the whole human race shall stand before Him and the great divine justice shall be revealed. At His second and terrible coming in glory, the Son of Man shall separate men one from another, as a shepherd divideth his sheep from the goats, according to the principle by which a man lived and toward which he strove. At the Last Judgment, He will not ask us about our political views, our status in society, our achievements, our power, our careers, or our possessions… He will ask about those small things—in the eyes of this world—which are great for the salvation of our souls: whether we felt the pain of another, whether we responded to it with compassion, whether we helped our neighbor in sorrow and need. This is what the Lord expects of us and what He shall ask us at His second and righteous Judgment.
Let us preserve the branches of our spiritual life green and fruitful, adorned with the spiritual fruits of good works. Let us treasure them as an immortal treasure, as the precious oil of the wise virgins, who met their Bridegroom with burning lamps. By offering prayers and doing good deeds, let us strive to prepare ourselves spiritually for the radiant day of Christ’s Resurrection, which follows His Passion. Let us not, in these pre-Paschal days, concern ourselves only with acquiring fine food or cleaning and preparing our homes—for the most essential thing, as we go to meet Christ, is to do His holy will, and thus be made worthy to meet the Lord and King here on earth, and, after our departure from this life, to be granted a place with Him in the Kingdom of Heaven.
Solemn was the entry of our Savior into Jerusalem. The Jews received Him as their King, hoping that He would drive out the Roman conquerors and restore the kingdom of Israel. Yet, in contrast to the joy of the people, the Savior was filled with sorrow. He beheld their vain hopes of making Him ruler of an earthly kingdom. He knew that the scribes and elders of the Jews were secretly enraged, and that, blinded by envy and hatred, they were already plotting to kill Him—and His friend Lazarus as well.
The Lord foresaw, and with His spirit beheld, that many from this rejoicing crowd, who now offered Him royal honors, would in just a few days abandon Him and side with His persecutors. Those who today cried out, “Hosanna to the Son of David, the King of Israel,” would soon be shouting, “Away with him, away with him, crucify him… We have no king but Caesar” (John 19:15).
Yet the gaze of the Lord extended even farther. He saw not only the present moment, but also the future of the holy city of Jerusalem. The folly and impenitence of the Jews were the cause of the Lord’s sorrow and tears. Despite the fulfillment of prophecies concerning Him, despite His three-year preaching of the Kingdom of God, despite the countless signs and miracles He had performed—and most recently, the greatest of all, the raising of a man four days dead—still the Jewish people remained mere spectators to all these things. With the exception of a few who were faithful to Him in heart and soul, who followed Him and recognized in Him the promised Savior of the world, their Lord and Master, the people remained unmoved. This indifferent, and later even mocking, crowd—led by the scribes and Pharisees—would soon accompany Him to Golgotha, reviling Him as He hung upon the Cross.
And the Lord, beholding the city, wept over it, for He knew that because the Jews had not recognized their true Messiah, the Romans would soon come and destroy that city, slaughter its children, and leave not one stone upon another. But the tears of the Lord moved not the inhabitants of Jerusalem, and the city was delivered into the hands of the Gentiles.
What befell Jerusalem and its people—once the chosen and beloved of the Lord—can also befall us, who call ourselves Christians, a holy nation, a people renewed. We all, in a sense, are part of that crowd meeting the Lord at the gates of Jerusalem. We either receive our Savior and Lord with meekness, humility, and living faith, and live with Him in one spirit and one life, bearing the cross in our own lives, suffering and enduring with Him—or else we reject Him like the Jews, remaining in a state of sin and estrangement from His commandments, living in bondage to temptations and passions.
And if that be the case, the Lord’s tears will not help us, just as they did not help the Jews. The tears of the Lord for us must be mingled with our own bitter tears over our sinful falls; His sorrow must pass into our hearts, purge them of all uncleanness, and fill them with repentance, with a desire to be renewed and reborn—to abandon the sinful life forever, and to begin a life that is well-pleasing and holy before God.
Today we enter the solemn days of Holy Week—the days when the Passion of Christ is remembered, and when our participation is called for in the fearsome and awe-filled events being commemorated. These are the days when we hear how God and Man was tortured and killed. Let us stand before the face of this truth. What the Holy Church recalls in these days is not merely a history of events that took place two thousand years ago; they are now at the very center of our attention. Upon them rests the entire structure of the Christian world, and by them the whole of our life is tested. All of this takes place even now—we, too, are in the crowd that surrounds Christ. Let us pass judgment upon ourselves: with whom do we stand, whom do we follow, and where are we going?
And no matter how heavy our hearts may be, let us diligently attend the church services during these Passion days. Let us listen attentively to the accounts of what befell Christ and place ourselves among those present in those moments. Let us stand before God while hearing the Gospel, remembering our own mortality—that any day might be our last upon this earth, and that we must stand before God, before His judgment, and before our own conscience. Let us repent—that is, let us turn from death to life, from ourselves to God. Let us stand before Him with a soul made clean and a heart contrite, that the pain and suffering in our lives may become not the fruit of death, but a means of unity with Christ, a healing of soul and body, that we might bear the wounds of Christ and be made strong by the strength of the Lord.
Brothers and sisters!
Having passed through the solemn days of Holy Week, let us arrive at Great Saturday, when Christ shall be laid in the tomb. And when, on the Paschal night, we hear the joyful news of Christ’s Resurrection—that triumphant victory over death and hell—then we shall truly rejoice, by the help and grace of God!