Palm Sunday 2025
This is my 25th Palm Sunday here at Fairfield. This past week, I read through all 25 Palm Sunday sermons I’d given, and I noticed I was giving essentially the same sermon every Palm Sunday--the modesty and humility of Jesus riding a donkey stands in contrast to the power and arrogance of the Roman Empire, riding high in the saddle, armed to the hilt. The last days of Jesus reflect this difference, culminating in the resurrection, the twist in the plot, when God sees fit to raise and elevate Jesus, not Rome. Remember this, friends, if you only remember one thing, remember this. Empires may claim to have God on their side, but don’t believe them. God is always for the meek and lowly.
This morning, I want to take us back to the days preceding Jerusalem and Palm Sunday, when Jesus was in Jericho, but Jesus is making his way toward Jerusalem, the regional seat of Roman power. He is walking through Jericho, where he has something of a reputation as a healer. Two blind men, hearing him pass by, yell out to be healed. “Have mercy on us, Son of David!” Now the term “Son of David” isn’t a biological, genealogical description, it’s a political, theological description, a shorthand way of acknowledging Jesus as the Messiah, the man sent by God to liberate the Hebrews from the clutches of the despised Roman Empire. Much like enslaved people once looked to Abraham Lincoln for their delivery from their enslavers. Same context.
So these blind men crying out, calling Jesus the Son of David, were adding a political dimension to their request for healing, and there were some present who found that unsettling, who told the men to be quiet, to not make a scene, people are watching, some of them perhaps looking to curry favor with Rome by turning in troublemakers. Empires have a way, don’t they, of breeding informants. So let’s not think poorly of these people trying to silence the blind men. We’ll assume they were hoping to protect them from the wrath of the Empire. We’re seeing this today. When a bunch of us were at the Hands Off! rally last Saturday, I was walking around the perimeter of the crowd reading the signs and chatting with people and a man walking past said to me, “You all better be careful. This is being filmed.” He didn’t say it hatefully. He seemed genuinely worried, if not a little paranoid. “You’re being watched.”
But Jesus heard the blind men, stopped, and asked them, “What do you want me to do for you?”
This is always a chief difference between Empire and Jesus. Empires are only interested in what you can do for them, that is the beginning and the end of your value to them, what you can do for them. But Jesus was interested in what he could do for others. This is the difference between empire and true religion, and it is still true today. In Empire, we are expected to serve the Empire. In true religion, we are called to serve the lowly, so Jesus asks the men, “What do you want me to do for you?”
They said to him, “Open our eyes.” And Jesus was filled with pity for them, touched their eyes, and they received their sight and went with him to Jerusalem. I like this story. I like it because it reminds us that there are two realms in this world, whose objectives are radically different. There is the realm of Empire, in this instance the Roman authorities and those who lived in fear of them and obedience to them, and there is the realm of divine mercy, in this instance Jesus and his compassion for the hurting.
I like this story because it reminds us that in life we have to choose a side, we have to choose to what and to whom we will commit. Will we follow Empire, bowing to their demands of wealth, prestige, and power? Or will we follow Jesus, will we let our hearts be moved by those who suffer, rejoice in their healing, responding to the best in us and not the worst?
It’s a tricky matter, so we must keep our eyes open, because Empire is devious. Empire has been around a long, long time, and has perfected its art. Even as we pull the lever for Empire, they can make us think us they are on the side of God. Empire is slick. Empire is smooth. Empire can ask us to do the vilest things, while having us believe we are doing it for God and Country. Christian Nationalism is simply Empire with a good sales pitch. Don’t fall for it. It doesn’t care about you. It doesn’t care about country. It doesn’t care about God. And it most certainly doesn’t care for the blind or the deaf or the poor or the broken. Empire cares only for itself and its own preservation.
When my brother-in-law was 17 years old, it was discovered he had a large tumor in his brain. This was some 50 years ago, so he was treated with large doses of radiation, which exacted a larger toll on his brain each year he lived. He is now in a nursing home, paralyzed from the waist down. Medicaid provides for his care, because it is impossible for a middle-income American to pay for the full-time medical care my brother-in-law requires. He and my sister live with bated breath, fearing the day Medicare, in this rash of cuts, will be placed on the chopping block.
This past week, the president of the United States met with a group of billionaires in the Oval Office, only a few days after average Americans had lost nine trillion dollars from their IRA’s and college funds in the collapse of the stock market after tariffs were announced. When the president paused the tariffs, billionaires added 304 billion dollars to their portfolios, so were in the mood to celebrate. Pointing to the billionaire Roger Penske, Donald Trump said, “He made 900 million dollars. Not bad.”
That is as clear an example of empire as I know, where the wealthy few amass all the treasure they can, pay as few taxes as they able, then are invited to the White House to glory in their plunder. That is capital E Empire. What they seek to defund and destroy is from Jesus, our shared commitment to one another, our determination to care for the least of these, to heal and help, to give of ourselves and our treasure for our mutual care.
Palm Sunday presents us with a choice—the way of Empire or the way of Jesus, to silence those crying for help, or to hurry to their side, saying, “What do you want me to do for you?”
Philip Gulley is the author of Unlearning God: How Unbelieving Helped Me Believe and the popular Harmony series.
Discover my books, stories, and more by visiting Books by Philip Gulley
Contact Philip directly at philiphgulley@gmail.com
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Once an insightful and prophetic critique of the days in which we live. May we all choose the ways of Jesus over the ways of Empire
Thank you! This was a great writing for the times we are living in.