Palm Sunday – a grand or not so grand an entrance?

Late November 1973, not a Four Seasons song – that was late December back in 63. In my case it was late November 1973. The school’s Christmas disco is less than a month to go. What I would wear, at the age of 14, for my very first disco becomes an issue for me. I am a bit of an odd one out in the class – I am the only one who has a short back and sides, at the instance of my step Dad. All the other boys have shoulder length hair or at least it covers their ears. My hair is a bit of a problem, not just because it is short but because it fails to cover my sticky out ears.

The other boys wear Oxford bags, ie trousers that have a 24-inch circumference round the bottom with turn ups. I have no such pair. Being captain in the school football team probably rescues me from some, but not all the ridicule from the other boys. So my appearance at the school disco is an issue for me.

One night straight after school I walked to Foster Brothers and tried on jackets and trousers. I settled on what I thought to be a wonderful all wool tweed jacket – in a pinky purple. The bags, 24 inch circumference of course, were a deep mauve – wonderful – I thought I looked the business.

When I got home from my shopping spree that night my parents seemed to be in shock at what I had done. I can’t recall them ever being so shocked. My very conservative second hand blue three piece suit, several years old, and well out of fashion, was not going to be worn at the disco after all.

On the night of the disco I stood at the number 8 bus stop for the town centre, rigged out in my new, very trendy outfit, I can still smell the wool. I was also wearing what had only just become fashionable thanks to pop singer Alvin Stardust, fake leather driving gloves, in other words plastic gloves. They too gave off a certain odour, not easily forgotten neither.

When the bus arrived I boarded it and made my way to the top deck where many of my class mates would be. To say that my arrival made an impression is a gross understatement. They could not believe the nerdy Bruce was wearing gear like them, bang on up to date. It was a great shock to them.  I felt accepted and one of the gang from then on.

How we appear, what we wear, how we behave, and what we say is important.

In 1898, Kaiser Wilhelm II, grandson of Queen Victoria, king of Russia and monarch of the young German State visited Ottoman ruled Jerusalem. He was the first European monarch to do so since the Crusader period. He insisted on riding his stallion and wearing full regalia including his helmet with a spike on top. The only trouble is the combination meant that he couldn’t enter through the Jaffa Gate without at least bowing his head or getting of his horse altogether. Kaiser Wilhelm, being Kaiser Wilhelm would do no such thing, so the city authorities had to break through the ancient wall of the city and make an entrance large enough for the Kaiser to make a triumphant entry.

Nineteen years later, on 11 December 1917, the city fell to the British and Allied Army under General Allenby. It marked the end of 400 years of Ottoman rule. Allenby also entered the city via the Jaffa Gate, but his entry was far lower key than the Kaiser’s in 1898. Allenby chose to walk in honouring the fact that the city is important to the three monotheistic faiths. He set about protecting religious sites sacred to Muslims, Jews, and Christians.

How we appear, what we wear, how we behave, and what we say is important.

We know well details of the entry of Jesus into the city. No stallion for Jesus, no conquering army, not even a purple jacket and Oxford bags. However, although he donned none of these accessories of power he actually entered the city from the opposite side to the Jaffa Gate; from the Mount of Olives. In doing so he was still making a very clear statement. Those that knew their sacred traditions well, those that had learnt what the prophets had said, would know that this was a statement, and a provocative one at that. Here is the Messiah, in fulfilment of centuries’ old prophecies. It was a statement alright. He knew it, the people knew it, and both the religious and political authorities knew it. Yet it didn’t look right – not everyone was won over.

In recent weeks we have asked who Jesus was, who he thought he was, who the disciples thought he was, who the people thought he was. In recent weeks we have taken up the story of what Mark sees as happening on the second day of what became known as Holy Week – the so called cleansing of the Temple. So much of what Jesus was saying and doing wasn’t what some might have expected from a Messiah that would liberate his people from slavery and oppression. It would take time. It would take a journey into the unknown, even through the process of dying and death, before some would know for sure. Yet even then, even today, perhaps more so today, many will not get the message. But those that do, find their lives are changed.

How we appear, what we wear, how we behave, and what we say is important.

Each can have a negative or a positive impact. Splashing out £27 of my savings, a lot of money those days, a week’s wage in fact, on what I thought to be a knock out outfit is no longer important. Kaiser Wilhelm’s entry into Jerusalem is still mocked by guides there today, and lamented by those historians who regret the damaging of an ancient city gate. General Allenby’s entry is all but forgotten, except by those that like to blame the British for everything that took place in the region thereafter, even though their historical analysis is far from accurate.

The entry of Jesus into Jerusalem is of course celebrated across every continent of the world by 1.5 billion Christians. The example which was set by the manner of that entry continues to inspire us to act in certain ways.

Our appearance, our entry into a geographical or metaphorical space, or into someone’s life impacts in positive or negative ways. Or may not impact at all.

I have often said that worship does not begin and end at the call to worship and the benediction, but with a handshake at the door and the washing up in the kitchen. It is in those moments of the regular routines that the tone is set, the example given, and the impact made.