Read: Psalm 24
Lift up your heads, O gates! And be lifted up, O ancient doors! that the king of glory may come in (Psalm 24:7 & 9, NRSV).
The following is an adaptation of a sermon I preached at the Waldensian Presbyterian Church in Valdese, North Carolina on Palm Sunday, April 10, 2022. In addition to Psalm 24, it takes as its text the story of Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem in Luke 19:28-40.
Some years ago—in what I can only describe as a miraculous constellation of circumstances—I learned to play the harp. It’s not a very big harp, and I don’t play it especially well. But even with my mediocre skills, it has been a blessing to me and—I hope—to others.
The reason this is relevant is that I want to tell you about something that happens when you pluck a single string on the harp. When you pluck, say, the string that is “middle C,” all the other “c” strings on the harp start to vibrate.
I often think of this “sympathetic vibration” thing when I’m reading Scripture. And that was surely the case when I read the Palm Sunday passage from Luke’s gospel. When you “pluck” the gospel string that is Luke 19, any number of other passages start to “vibrate.” For instance:
- Psalm 118:26 – “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.”
- Zechariah 9:9 – “Rejoice, greatly, O daughter Zion. Lo, your king comes to you, triumphant and victorious is he—humble and riding on a donkey.”
But there is another passage that resonates with the Palm Sunday story, too, and I’d like to focus on that one. The resonance may not be as obvious, but it’s profound. And I think it can both enrich our appreciation of this familiar story and give us peace in these difficult days.
“Lift up your heads, O gates! And be lifted up, O ancient doors! That the King of glory may come in.” Those are some of the most memorable words from Psalm 24, and scholars think they offer a clue as to the occasion for which they were first written.
David had just become king over all Israel. He had taken and chosen Jerusalem as his capitol. One of the first things he did was to bring the ark of the covenant into the city of Jerusalem. If you know the story in 2 Samuel 6, you may remember that his first attempt didn’t go very well—but eventually, the ark was brought up to the city with great reverence and rejoicing.
What was so special about this ark? It was essentially a big box that the covenant people had been carrying around with them during all those years they spent in the wilderness. Inside it were stored the two tablets of the law. That alone would have made it precious beyond words. But the main reason it was so important was that it symbolized the presence of God in their midst. And that powerful presence went with them—to protect and sustain them wherever they went. So, you can see why this was a very big deal—both for David and for all the people.
So, what does this have to do with Psalm 24? Scholars think that Psalm 24 was written—very possibly by King David himself—for that procession…for that day when David and the people brought the ark of the covenant into the city of Jerusalem. Now there’s no way to be sure about this, but there are clues in the psalm itself. “Lift up your heads, O gates! And be lifted up, O ancient doors! that the King of glory may come in.” The psalm is crying out to the gates of Jerusalem itself—commanding them to make way for the very presence of God.
Are you beginning to feel the “good vibrations” yet?
Ten centuries later a Son of David entered the City of David again, humble and riding on a donkey. People started throwing their cloaks down in front of him as a sign of respect. Matthew adds the details about the palm branches and the “Hosannas.” But both gospel writers sense the significance of this moment, and they write the story in such a way that we may begin to sense it, too. Jesus, the very presence of God, has come among us. “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.”
When some of Jesus’ critics see what’s happening, they also see their own power slipping away, so they try to get the people to stop shouting. But Jesus simply says, “I tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout out.” Maybe he’s thinking about the stones of Jerusalem’s gates—those very stones that Psalm 24 addressed all those centuries ago. “Lift up your heads, O gates! And be lifted up, O ancient doors! that the King of glory may come in.” The king of glory is here at last.
During Holy Week we’ll be reminded that this king’s glory is quite different from what we might have expected it to be. It is a glory that shines in and through terrible suffering. It is a glory that finally conquers even death. It is a glory that promises, ultimately, to renew all creation and wipe all tears from our eyes. This is a glory like no other—a glory that we must cling to as so many walk a road filled with suffering and death.
But there is something in this story—and in this psalm—that reminds us to “lift up our heads.”
And now I feel another song vibrating. It’s a song I learned in Italy from our Waldensian brothers and sisters. It’s a hymn that remembers a particularly harrowing journey their ancestors made across the Alps back in the 17th century. Whenever I hear the refrain to that hymn, I imagine the parents bending down trying to reassure their children—and perhaps themselves. The refrain says:
Ascolta, ascolta, i passi del tuo Signore: cammina sulla strada, cammina insieme a te.
Listen, listen—the steps of your Lord: (He) walks on the road, (He) walks with you.
As we walk this dangerous road together, perhaps these words can remind us that we do not walk it alone. Listen for Jesus’ footsteps beside you. Listen—and lift up your heads.
Ponder: What, in your life or in the news, makes you bow your head in discouragement or despair? What is there in Psalm 24 or the Palm Sunday story that encourages you to lift up your head?
Pray: We need your presence beside us and within us, O Lord. Walk with us and with your world. Lead us toward paths of peace and justice.