The Rev. Joseph Farnes
Palm Sunday, Year A
April 2, 2023
All Saints, Boise
And so Holy Week has begun.
We start with our triumphal procession with Christ, and we slide rapidly into the passion, the crucifixion of Christ. We don’t get time to meditate on the triumphal entry into Jerusalem. Palm Sunday has double-duty: Palms and Passion, Triumph and Terror. We move from joy and celebration to pain and suffering.
While we might wish we could just do one thing on this day, the liturgy and the lectionary do not give us this luxury. We walk into Holy Week with full awareness of what will happen. Palm Sunday reveals what is to come. And Holy Week reveals who we are by means of the parade of characters we meet along the way.
We are the crowds that welcome Jesus in the triumphal procession. We love Jesus. We celebrate Jesus. We rejoice with thanksgiving the blessings he brings, the blessing he gives us.
And we are also the crowds that call for Jesus to be crucified. We are angry that we can’t get our way. We want someone to suffer for it. Our rage cannot be sated without blood.
We’re Pontius Pilate, too. We’re practical people. We know what’s possible and realistic. We keep the peace, we keep our power. Some eggs have to get broken to make an omelet, and it’s better to be in a position to make sure it’s other eggs that broken, and make a show of washing our hands to convince ourselves of our innocence.
We’re the soldiers who delight in mockery.
We’re Simon of Cyrene, swept up into things we had no hand in, doing the right thing, an act of mercy and goodness we did not choose.
We’re the disciples who flee when Jesus is arrested. Following Jesus is nice, until it comes with a risk.
We’re Peter, who denies Jesus. Our faith and trust burns away like paper held to a flame.
We’re Joseph of Arimathea, someone tossing and turning in our hearts about what is good and right. We may be too late and too small to make a difference in the outcome, but we will do the little mercy that we can.
We’re Mary Magdalene who follows Jesus to the cross and keeps vigil over the tomb. We might be ignored and shoved aside by others, we might feel invisible, but when the moment of decision comes, we will be there. Our faith burns like a candle, strong, giving light, sharing that light.
And we who are sealed to Christ in baptism find the sufferings of Jesus a mirror for our own. The pain, the heartache, the loneliness – the way Christ has walked is the way we walk, too.
And what does it all mean?
This Holy Week embraces our whole personhood. We are not alone in this walk. We walk together. We walk with Christians throughout the world, with Christians throughout history. We walk this way to find our humanity, and our inhumanity, reflected back to us.
This humanity is what Jesus takes upon himself in deepest love. Jesus Christ takes all this upon himself with love, that our inhumanity may be made fully human, goodly human, humane and Godly.
Christ embraces everything within us. Every good, and every sin. Nothing is hidden from Jesus Christ. Christ knew that the crowds that welcomed him would also turn on him. He knew that death was waiting for him in Jerusalem. Christ knew that Peter would deny him – and still Christ loves him.
This whiplash on Palm Sunday sets the tone for the week to come. It begins in celebration, it moves to defeat and death, and it rises back up in triumph. Christ descends to embrace the lowest parts of our humanity that our entire being may be lifted up in him.
And so we follow Christ – imperfectly, badly, stumbling and fumbling along. But we still follow Christ in his triumphal procession, we follow him to the cross, we keep vigil at the tomb, and we follow him out into the world to share the Good News, the Gospel of God’s love. Where Christ has led the way, let us follow. Amen.