St. Charles Episcopal Church – St. Charles, IL Sunday, April 1, 2007 – Palm Sunday Year C
Liturgy of the Palms Luke 19:29-40 Psalm 118:19-29 Liturgy of the Word Isaiah 45:21-25 Philippians 2:5-11 Luke (22:39-71)23:1-49(50-56) The Rev. Elizabeth G. Meade
This week, I’ve been in central Nebraska observing some 500,000 sand hill cranes as they rested along Nebraska’s Platte River – the midway point between their winter habitats in Mexico and Texas, and their nesting grounds in northern Canada. Half a million cranes – all in a 10-12 mile stretch of one river! This annual “lay-over” lasts for about a month, and during this time, the cranes feed in the corn fields by day, and roost along the shallow sandbars of the Platte River at night. Thursday in the late afternoon and evening, I found myself in an un-heated blind on the Platte River with 15 other naturalists and an Audubon guide – as we waited silently for the birds to come in to roost for the night. Suddenly, we heard them coming – wave after wave of them – all heading right to where we were waiting! The sky was thick with birds approaching. Imagine the sheer noise of it – the sheer chaos of it! It was thrilling to be a silent observer of this spectacle.
To be right there among them – hidden – but right there among them!
Let’s take it back 2000 years. It was the Feast of the Passover, and thousands and thousands of Jews converged on one place, Jerusalem, to buy the lambs without blemish, and to celebrate the Feast of the Passover. Imagine the money lenders, the herdsmen, the travelers, and the encampments – as 100,000 people and 30,000 lambs arrived in a city that only had, on a normal day, around 25,000 residents. Imagine the sheer noise of that! The sheer chaos.
And in rides Jesus, surrounded by his followers, through the Golden Gate – or The East Gate – riding on a donkey – his disciples joyfully praising God and saying:
Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord”
He is at the top of His game. Word of his miracles had spread throughout the land – and only the day before he had raised Lazarus from the dead. The text reveals tells us that even Herod “WAS VERY GLAD” to see Jesus – had wanted to see Him for a long time – and hoped to see him perform some sign.” (Luke 23:8) It was a joyous and celebratory time. Exciting – worth the trip.
Next week, there will be no more sand hill cranes in Nebraska to see. The trails along the Platte River will re-open to hikers and campers, the motels in Kearney and Grand Island will empty out, and the staff at the Audubon Society will take some well-deserved time off. The cranes will be on their way to the far reaches of northern Canada, where they will become solitary pairs, no longer socializing by moonlight with thousands of their own kind. It will become lonely, once again, along the Platte River.
This week, as Holy Week unfolds, we will watch as Jesus takes a similar journey. He enters the city triumphant, at the top of his game, but by Friday, there will be no more Hosannas being shouted. No more palms being waved. And the words “Crucify Him!” will be whispered (at first) quietly, then with more urgency, and finally, shouted:
“Crucify Him! Crucify Him!”
Yet, as Christians, we are faced with an invitation. Jesus stands at the gates of Jerusalem, and invites the whole world to enter into His Gates with Thanksgiving. He invites us into a land of peace and justice and tranquility: a land where every knee will bow, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord. Dare we enter? Dare we walk through the gates and into a new life – with Jesus as our guide?
Suddenly, it gets quiet.
We struggle. We know that if we commit, we risk TRANSFORMATION.
People in the neighborhood might call us “religious” – or worse: JESUS FREAKS!!
Suddenly, the excitement of a new life gets drowned out by the voices of the crowds: our colleagues – our friends.
Do we REALLY want to be at the Lord’s side? How willing are we to be identified as “Jesus people?”
Holy Week calls the question:
Will we walk silently with our Lord, or will we stand at the gates and watch from a distance as He is crucified?
It’s the distance thing that bothers me. Notice that even though Herod and Pontius Pilate BOTH said they found no reason to crucify Jesus – they, by their passivity, contributed to His demise. From a distance. And then there’s the crowd. The crowd of folks, just ordinary citizens like you and me, who had probably waved Palms on Sunday.
These were the people who were shouting “Crucify Him” on Friday. From a distance. Not willing to walk with Him.
Separating themselves from Him. Even Peter, his most ardent devotee, denies him three times by Friday.
Today, be it by our passivity – or in our denials – WE acknowledge the blood on our hands.
Holy Week (and Palm Sunday specifically) asks us to make a choice:
Do we stand at the gates and watch from a distance, or do we walk with Him?
Walking with Him means carrying our own crosses and living with our own separations. Following Him may mean being unconventional. Radical, even. Let’s face it, Jesus was a subversive. He called into question the veracity pf the elders in His own religious tradition. He questioned their strict adherence to the law. He questioned how they approached God.
And to top it all off, he kept company with sinners – the tax collectors and prostitutes. Oh my!
If Jesus had just stuck to the cool miracles, he might have had a chance, but when you mess with the establishment, you’re asking for trouble.
How does this translate for us today? After Evening prayer last Tuesday, we meditated on the evening’s reading from John’s gospel – in a prayer form called Lectio Divina. In Lectio Divina, what happens is that a passage is read aloud two or three more times, and the people listen for a word or a phrase that jumps out at them. One word or one phrase that, ostensibly, God offers to each individual to comtemplate in the coming days. The phrase that jumped out for half of us last Tuesday night was the phrase uttered by the Pharisees when they questioned Jesus: “Surely we are not blind, are we?”
“Surely we are not blind are we?”
That’s the phrase I’ve been carrying around with me all week.
Christ calls into question our own blindness – and asks us to see with new eyes. He calls us to focus in on those we forget to notice: by teaching English as a second language, or spending a night at Hesed House.
He calls us to focus in on the neighbor who hasn’t found a community of faith or whose health is failing.
Who don’t we see? Who doesn’t feel welcome in our community? In our schools? In our churches?
Would Jesus be solidly in their camp, or trying to keep them out of His?
Do we see the 12 m. African children who’ve been orphaned because AIDS stole their parents away?
Does Jesus care for the least of these? The question is – “Surely we are not blind, are we?”
Every time we have to ask, we hammer another nail into His cross.
When the Lord invites us to enter into His gates – it’s not just for the Palm Sunday procession.
It’s also for the walk to Calvary – to the Cross.
We are asked to draw near to him,
To enter into the work He has given us to do. There’s lots of it.
· Eradicating extreme poverty, hunger, and AIDS.
· Improving maternal and child health and education globally
· Ensuring environmental responsibility.
To do this requires involvement and action. It requires taking up a cross – a cross that sometimes weighs heavily, a cross that complicates our everyday lives, a cross that transforms us.
Resist the temptation to stand by the gates and watch.
When we fully enter into the drama of Holy Week,
we will discover a richness on Easter morning that makes all things new.
Be not afraid.
He walks with us.
He died for us.
Now we must choose. Amen.