“Street Theater”
Palm Sunday
March 29, 2026
Mark 21:1-11
St. Paul AME Church
Manchester, KY
David A. Shirey
This is my 43rd Palm Sunday as a pastor. 43 times I’ve read Jesus’ donkey-backed procession into Jerusalem accompanied by the Hosannas and palm branches.
43 times I’ve studied and meditated on this passage, been struck by something, and then preached it. This week for the 43rd time this passage has spoken a word to me I’m eager to share with you. That’s the way it is with Scripture. You can read it 42 times and get something new out of the 43rd reading. As Paul said, Scripture “is alive and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow” (Heb 4:12) Penetrating, alive and active, indeed.
So what struck me on this 43rd reading of Palm Sunday? Street theater. Actors were on the stage that was Jerusalem’s streets. They dressed for their parts with lines and props and were watched by standing room only crowds as they performed their plays. Plays (plural) performed on Jerusalem’s streets with contrasting messages. Street theater. Let me explain.
The passage begins: “When they were approaching Jerusalem, at Bethphage and Bethany, near the Mount of Olives” (vs. 1). The Mount of Olives, directly east of Jerusalem and the Temple, was, according to the prophet Zechariah, the place from which the Lord’s assault on Israel's enemies would begin. I quote, “The Lord will go forth and fight against those nations as when he fights on a day of battle. On that day his feet shall stand on the Mount of Olives, which lies before Jerusalem on the east” (Zechariah 12:3,4). Who were Israel’s enemies? The Romans, of course. The people of Israel were fed up with the Roman occupation. Enough with being bullied, humiliated, scorned, made fun of, disrespected, marginalized. So they cried out Hosanna! – which means “Save us!”
But save them how? Well, how do you think those folks lining the streets that first Palm Sunday expected to be saved? They hoped Almighty God would flex some Almighty Muscle and send a certain Someone to save them by strength of force. “Might makes right,” right? It was a dog-eat-dog world back then (Have things changed?) and if you were the underdog like the Jewish people, your hope was in God’s sending a big dog to sic on the top dog. And given Jesus’ reputation for supernatural power, people saw in him that hoped-for heaven-sent big dog. And they couldn’t wait until God unleashed his wrath on Rome through him. Or as my friend Dave Emery put it, “They wanted a national hero who would ‘go Rambo’ on the Romans.”
Have I “set the stage,” if you will? Street Theater stage #1: Enter Jesus of Nazareth, (Some say he is the Messiah, God’s heaven-sent Deliverer). Send him in from stage east (from The Mount of Olives) which, according to the script (It’s written in the prophet Zechariah), is the place from which God’s assault on Israel's enemies is to begin. As he enters, cue the crowd to shout “Hosanna!” (which means “God save us!”) That’s Street Theater stage #1. Stage East.
Now turn your attention with me to another stage in Jerusalem. Street Theater stage #2. This stage is on the west side of Jerusalem directly opposite the one we just observed (Opposite as in “in contrast to”). During Passover week, the Romans also paraded into Jerusalem. They would enter from the west gate. Why? Because their garrison was 50 miles west of Jerusalem in the seaport stockade of Caesarea Maritima. Their entrance into Jerusalem was described this way:
“It would have been an imposing sight--Legionnaires on horseback, Roman standards flying, the Roman eagle prominently displayed, the clank of armor, the stomp of feet, and beating of drums. The procession was designed to be a display of Roman imperial power. Message? Resistance is futile!”[1]
Street theater stage #2: A legion of brawny Roman soldiers on stallions, flexing muscle and might. Enter from stage west. Cue the crowd to cower as they pass by.
This is to say there were two performances of street theater in Jerusalem that first Palm Sunday. In this corner, weighing in at hundreds of armed and armored soldiers mounted on war horses from the capital of the Empire – the Roman army. And in this corner from a manger in Bethlehem on a donkey – Jesus of Nazareth. And to think those crowds on the east stage were shouting “Hosanna!” which means “God, save us!” They thought God was sending help.
The Scripture says Jesus sent two disciples to borrow that donkey. Of course he did. The fact of the matter is that Jesus borrowed everything. I'm indebted to a Methodist brother named Robert McFarland for this insight[2] Think about it. What did Jesus own? He wasn't into personal property or investment portfolios. Jesus didn't need an attic, a basement or a rented storage unit in order to have enough space in which to store all his stuff. He didn't have any stuff. He borrowed it all. He borrowed the water he turned into wine, and he borrowed the stone jars from which that water-come-wine was poured. He borrowed boats from which to teach or in which to cross the Sea of Galilee. He borrowed houses in which to eat, teach, and heal. He borrowed people's sons, brothers, and husbands to be his disciples. He borrowed an upper room in somebody's house so he could have a last supper with his borrowed friends. Borrowed was the manger in which he was born, borrowed was his cross, borrowed was his tomb. Jesus came into Jerusalem in character. Needing a ride, he borrowed a donkey. "If anyone asks you, 'Why are you doing this?', say 'The Lord has need of it'" (Mark 11:3). He was just borrowing it.
Jesus borrowed everything. And here's the bottom line: He'd like to borrow you. He'd like to borrow your life for the rest of your life. If I might borrow the words Jesus used on that first Palm Sunday: “The Lord has need of it" – it being your life. He's entering Jerusalem today on a donkey to go face-to-face with everything that hurts and divides and destroys and darkens life. He's taking on the regime of Sin this week, all the antagonisms, attitudes and baked-in belligerence that lurks in the darkened basements of our hearts and all the “principalities and powers” (Ephesians 6:12 KJV) – the -isms and -phobias that do violence to the human family and the earth itself. He's going into the fray unarmed except for the strength of Spirit he borrowed from God. And he wants help. Would you lend your life to the man atop the borrowed donkey so that with you and through you Jesus can enact God's saving purposes for this world?
You see, Jesus is looking for actors – men, women, youth – whose lives he can borrow for a lifetime to enact God’s redemptive purposes for this world. There’s a casting call at Stage East this week. Interested actors must be willing to ride a donkey. You must resist getting on your high horse, your war horse, putting on body armor and soldiering up. You must be willing to act unarmed except for the strength of Spirit and soul you may borrow from God for the duration of the performance. Jesus would like to borrow your life over at Stage East.
Let me add one thing. In Mark’s telling of Palm Sunday, Jesus tells his disciples to promise the guy whose donkey he borrowed that "he would send it back" (11:3). The same holds true for the lives he borrows. Jesus gives them back to us. My mother always taught me that when I borrowed something, I ought to give it back in better shape than when I got it. She’d say, “If you borrow the car, fill the tank with gas. If you borrow Bobby Wilden’s basketball, put air in it before returning it.” Well, God's promise as I understand it and as I've experienced it in my own life, is that if you let Jesus borrow your life to enact God’s purposes in this world, God will give your life back to you better than the way you gave it to him. And the world will be a better place for the gift of your borrowed life.
Street theater, anybody? It’s Holy Week in a world where empires still vie violently for world domination armed and armored atop the modern-day equivalents of Roman war horses. Hosanna! God save us! cry people who are weary of the death and destruction unleashed by modern-day Caesars. Into this world, our world, this week, today enters a rabbi on a borrowed donkey.
He comes into Manchester from the south up 421 till he gets to the Y in the road where Main St. veers off to the right. He pauses in front of the mural painted on the side of the building at the intersection that reads: Welcome to Manchester – Small Town Big Deal. He bears left at the Y where he sees the Clay County monument sign and the handsome brick building, steers his donkey left onto Town Branch Road. He looks up at the neon sign for Pat’s World Famous Snack Bar. He’s not stopping. He’s a man on a mission. He turns to the right and sees the gray granite sign Clay County Veterans Memorial Park. He passes the mounted artillery and flags, the names engraved on the bronze plaques. He continues on past the parking lot until he spots his destination on the right. He pauses atop his donkey in front of the white building and looks up at the green doors. He tells those who have accompanied him, Go into the sanctuary and you will find some people in worship. Bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, just say, “The Lord needs them.”
Jesus wants to borrow our lives for the rest of our lives for the redeeming of this war-weary world.
Holy Week has begun.
[1]The Last Week: What the Gospels Really Teach About Jesus's Final Days in Jerusalem, Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan
[2] “A Borrower and a Lender Be,” The Christian Century, March 21-28, 1990, pp. 295-296).
