Saturday, March 20, 2010

March 28 -- Palm Sunday

This week's lectionary texts: Psalm 118:1-2 and 19-29, and Luke 19:28-40 or John 12:12-16.



Growing up Catholic, I remember spending one Palm Sunday gathering with the rest of the congregation in the parking lot of our church. Someone had started a huge bonfire on that chilly morning, and as we all huddled together, everyone was handed a palm frond. After some initial prayers, the priest then led us into the sanctuary, singing and waving our green leaves.

I have to confess that as a child, I was much more fascinated by the actual palms -- their bright colors, the way that you could peel off the edges into little strings -- than by their symbolism. Indeed, the whole story of Palm Sunday seemed strange to me: Jesus riding on a donkey? The residents of Jerusalem welcoming him with palm branches? It all sounded a little silly.

Now, the story of Palm Sunday still seems a bit strange, but in a different way. Namely, how could Jesus be so warmly welcomed one moment, and less than a week later have been sentenced to death, crucified, and resurrected?

This week's lectionary texts do not quite get at the question of how things took such a sudden turn. But they do offer reflection on the ways in which Jesus is continually portrayed as someone who upends expectations and changes our perspective on what it means to be powerful.

As the psalmist writes in Psalm 118, God is good; God's "steadfast love endures for ever" (Psalm 118:1). He offers a stirring image for entering into God's presence:

"Open to me the gates of righteousness, that I may enter through them and give thanks to the Lord. This is the gate of the Lord; the righteous shall enter through it." (Psalm 118:19-20)

Paralleling the psalmist's words, John and Luke offer us their own interpretations of Jesus' triumphal entry into Jerusalem. As Luke writes, two of the disciples are sent ahead to find a young colt and to bring it to Jesus for his entrance into the city. As he rode along, "people kept spreading their cloaks on the road," and the disciples "began to praise God joyfully with a loud voice for all the deeds of power that they had seen, saying, 'Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest heaven!'" (Luke 19:36-38).

While Luke omits any mention of palm branches, John writes that as Jesus entered the city, "a great crowd" appeared, taking "branches of palm trees and [going] out to meet him," shouting praises to the Lord (John 12:12-13). Here, John references the prophet Zechariah, explaining that Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a young donkey to echo what had been written: "Shout aloud, O daughter Jerusalem! Lo, your king comes to you; triumphant and victorious is he, humble and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey" (Zechariah 9:9).

Indeed, the texts we read this Palm Sunday are full of fascinating -- and sometimes unintuitive -- happenings. Jesus is the son of God, but he rides into Jerusalem on a donkey -- hardly the most noble of animals. He is welcomed with praise and excitement by the palm-carrying populace -- but condemned by them just days later. The psalmist seems to echo these seeming contradictions when he writes, "The stone that the builders rejected has become the chief cornerstone" (Psalm 118:22).

Jesus is constantly causing us to readjust our expectations, to realize that things are not always what they seem. Just as Jesus entered Jerusalem to shouts of praise, only to see his entire life upended just a few days later, we too may experience upheavals in our lives. Things can go from good to bad in an instant; they can just as quickly go from bad to good. Life is unpredictable, and the story of Palm Sunday shows that Jesus can empathize with us when things don't go as we expect them to.

The photograph above was taken in Mexico several years ago. I was sitting near a palm tree, when I noticed a tiny nest woven into the branches. Every few minutes, a little head would poke out and chirp, and, without fail, a bigger bird would eventually return with a new tidbit for its baby. This went on for at least an hour as I watched, totally transfixed. It was a beautiful example of the care of a parent for a child, much like God cares for us, even in the midst of confusion or uncertainty.

We all know what happens after Jesus triumphantly enters Jerusalem that day -- he will come face to face with his own death, a death advocated by the men and women who had just welcomed him with palms. How rapidly things changed. But through it all, God is constantly there, constantly caring for Jesus, as God constantly cares for us. As the psalmist simply and powerfully puts it, "O give thanks to the Lord, for he is good, for his steadfast love endures for ever" (Psalm 118:29).

Photo by the author.





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