Palm Sunday/Sunday of the Passion, 2004

"God Loves Us Still"

Larry Crockett, priest-in-charge

As any good sociologist could tell you, we often do things in groups we regret later.

Friday evening, with the weather as lovely as it was, Cheryl and I decided to take a ride. Since it was about 4:30, we knew we needed to head south in order to avoid rush hour traffic. So we headed south to Farmington. I decide to use Pilot Knob since it has some good curves and a number of pleasant lakes next to it.

At the first light, a late-model, blue-and-green Cougar pulled up next to us. I noticed that the young woman sitting in it glanced over at us. I didn’t think much of it. But when the light turned green, she put the “pedal to the metal,” leaving us in her dust. At this time of year, of course, the roads are often dirty. She stopped at the next light and we pulled up next to her. The light turned green and she did it again. Since I had washed the bike carefully, now I was roundly annoyed.

While sitting at the next light, I said to Cheryl, “I am an educator, right? I bet she thinks that little Cougar of hers is faster than a Gold Wing. It wouldn't be professional of me to let her live with a mistaken belief!” I could tell Cheryl didn’t care for my comment. When the light turned green, I did a full acceleration to the speed limit of 55 mph. That takes about 4 seconds on a Gold Wing. I could see the Cougar decrease rapidly in size in my rear view mirror. I must confess, I quite enjoyed seeing that. I wanted a big sign which read, “Gold Wing, accept no substitute!” And another which read, “What is that you’re driving? A kitty cat?” People do and think things in groups, you see, they often later regret.

At the light, as we waited, quite a collection of cars accumlated behind us. All eyes were on the orange Gold Wing and the blue-and-green Cougar. The seconds counted down to the light change. As it happened, better sense prevailed. I accelerated normally and she accelerated slightly and then turned into the right turn lane. I could sense Cheryl’s relief through the back of my helmut. But I could sense keen disappointment in the processional of cars behind us.

 

Consider the following story from the CNN web page this past Friday:

------------

Brawl Breaks Out at Anger Management Assembly

WOODLAWN, Maryland (AP) -- A brawl broke out during an anger management assembly at a suburban high school. Two people were arrested and 11 students were suspended after a shoving match escalated into a melee during Thursday's assembly.

Authorities said a confrontation between a student's mother and a group of girls who had been bothering her daughter turned into a shouting match, and led to pushing and hitting, before the crowd of 750 students erupted into "chaos," said C. Anthony Thompson, principal of Woodlawn High School. The melee began as students on stage acted out peaceful ways to resolve conflict during an assembly that was organized by Sheppard Pratt Health System. "People were climbing over seats and started fighting about stupid stuff," said ninth-grader Melissa Parks.

-------------

As any good sociologist could tell you, we often do things in groups we regret later.

A certain sort of twoness characterizes most human experience. Good and bad, darkness and light, joy and sadness are two-set terms that come to mind. An anger management session that ends in a brawl? A Professor-priest nearly drawn into drag racing on a Friday night? It seems we are not "at one" with ourselves.

So it is with this day as well. It is "Palm Sunday." But it is also the "Sunday of the Passion." Indeed, part way through the service, we can feel the change from waving, sunny palms to ominous passion, like feeling a sharp, cold breeze blow in from an open window. And we shiver, not knowing what to expect next.

The Palm Sunday story begins innocently enough with a donkey in a field. It lives the same predictable life, day in and day out. Then one day, strangers enter the field, put a halter around the donkey and make it do something quite new. Most donkeys would resist. If this donkey had been given the gift of speech, like Balaam's donkey in the Old Testament story, the donkey might have said, “What do you think you are doing? This is not part of my routine.” Then the donkey is taken to the place where Jesus is and unusual finery is placed on its back. Had the donkey been able to speak it might have loudly objected, “Thank you very much but I don’t need dressing up—all that fabric does is irritate me.” If Sonny, our "donkey" outside could speak, he might very well say, “Not this routine again!” And if he misbehaves, we might say the same thing!

Then the journey into Jerusalem begins, the crowds cheer and wave their palms at Jesus, just as we did outside a few minutes ago. Smiles are everywhere. It is all sweetness and light. Waving palms in a group is a lot of fun. Remember that groups change our behavior, we do things that we might not do otherwise or regret later.

But what is the significance of the palms?

• Deborah led Israel from under a palm tree (Judges)
• Palm tree wood is used in the Temple(1 Kings)
• They are in the Temple with Ezekiel
• Jericho was called "The City of Palm Trees" (Deuteronomy)
• Palms are used as a symbol of victory (Revelation)

In our story for today, as it turns out, this happy symbol from the Old Testament is turned into a symbol of duplicity. All through Holy Week we find people drawn to Jesus, who then resist him, or try to change the outcome of the story, or avoid the consequences of having been a disciple of the man who comes under arrest. The crowds that cheer him today with palms later will cry "Crucify him!" and would be willing even to hold the nails while the Romans pound them in. Religious people, who wore clothes a lot like what I have on this morning, plot his death. Most of the disciples will run away, cowardice etched across their faces, rather than face facing suffering and death. St. Peter, his closest aid, will deny him,“Who me--no not me--never knew the man!” in a betrayal that must have hurt Jesus far more than that of Judas.

Alas, in the end, only Simon of Cyrene was prepared to carry the cross; only the faithful and brave women and John were there for the actual crucifixion. Only Joseph of Arimathea was brave enough to offer a tomb. It was mainly the outsiders who stood with Jesus while the alleged disciples fled the scene.

A World of Dark, Naked Power

The sundry journeys of Palm Sunday draw us into a world of betrayal, of dark, naked power, of cowardice and horrific death. As the week goes along, we see more clearly what people are like. People then and people now. Strip away our privilege, confront us with a stark choice, and who we are becomes all too apparent:

• we get involved in silly confrontations, when we should know better (perhaps the motorcycle in my garage says more about me than you want to know!)
• we get into altercations at anger management sessions
• we kill people and desecrate their remains
• we fake crimes in order to draw attention to ourselves
• we are willing to engage in wars if they do not involve us directly
• we buy toys we really don’t need rather than feed the hungry around the world

And yet, what? God loves us still! God has every reason to wash this planet away in a new flood but God does what? God loves us still and sheds the dearest blood to bring us back into relationship. God sees the impending betrayal in the hypocritical, waving palms, the palms that will finally mock his most beloved—and God does what? God loves us still!

Those of us who believe in inevitable progress, a fine home in the suburbs and a nicely increasing stock portfolio--who predicate the meaning of our lives on such things--and those who find illness, separation, darkness and death offensive, will surely find the coming week distasteful and unduly pessimistic. Surely we should be positive thinkers!

But the nails in the cross of Christian faith are not an escape from reality. Instead, they draw us into the reality of our world as Jesus experienced it. We experience our own nails with suicide bombings, deception, murders, betrayals, and wars that never seem to end. Then as now, what does God do? God loves us still!

In some number of hours, when the palms will be exposed for the sham that they are, when the last journey is over, we will be left with a dead Jesus in a dark tomb. Might we be able to hear the soft sobs of the Spirit in that dark, cold place? If we listen carefully, might we hear the sickening laughter of the Evil One as well? In this next week, there will be no Easter to be found. Anywhere.

But unless we can walk these paths with Jesus and admit that the palms we wave only cover our sinfulness, our duplicity; unless we can walk into the darkness of evil and death, carrying Jesus to the tomb; unless we can hear the soft sobs of the Spirit that echo across all time, Easter will be just another forgettable bunny story. And we will miss the most important Christian truth of all: from the depths of the divine soul that suffers on our behalf, God loves us still!