What a difference a week can make!
What a difference a week can make! The joyful sounds of ‘Hosanna to the Son of David!’ suddenly turn into the raging cry of ‘Let him be crucified’. The crowds’ elation as they recognise Jesus to be the blessed one ‘who comes in the name of the Lord’, the one who is their king, soon after becomes a fury that calls for ‘his blood to be on us and on our children’. Even the disciples, who marched triumphantly on Jesus’ side into Jerusalem, suddenly desert him and flee from the garden at Gethsemani nowhere to be found. What a difference a week can make!
Such sudden change of horizon is something we all are living through right now. Today, sadly, we know all too well this feeling of our reality being turned upside down. It’s been only three weeks since I joyously celebrated my ordination with you. I remember all that love and hugs that I’ve received from you. Now I’m speaking to you from an empty church and on a camera. This pandemic has changed our lives in ways unprecedented and there is a lot of grieving happening . Quite unexpectedly, many of us now chime in with the psalmist in voicing that ‘fear is all around us’ as we’re being powerfully reminded by nature that our ‘times are in God’s hand’ indeed.
This acute juxtaposition of the triumphant entry into Jerusalem and the painful and breath-taking agony on the cross is purposefully written into the theological and liturgical character of Palm Sunday: the Sunday of the Passion of our Lord. Even the name of the feast itself speaks to that tricky balance of joy and pain in life. Our liturgy today exposes us to the colourful palms in our hands, the joyful signing of triumphal hymns, and the beauty of God’s creation around us, whilst at the same time pointing us to the inevitable reality of pain, suffering, and disappointment. And so it might be quite tempting for some to want to simply hold onto those two jubilant images of Christ’s glory and power as he first enters Jerusalem and then as rises again from the dead. But as we enter the mysteries of the Holy Week today, our long liturgy of the Word presents us with an invitation to walk with Jesus on his final journey onto the cross.
But I recognise that this may seem like quite a dangerous invitation. Death and suffering have a serious potential to crush us. Only last week, we witnessed how the pain and anguish of Mary and Martha as they grieved over the death of their brother Lazarus broke Jesus’ heart. Seeing their agony, Jesus wept. Facing our mortality, particularly at a time when it comes unexpected, can be rough, can crush us. But hearing Jesus’ words from the cross: ‘Eli, Eli lema sabachthani’ (My God, my God, why have you forsaken me), reminds us that Jesus knows our pain. God is present in every situation and can transform every situation for the better. This is the Christian good news!
As we walk with Jesus on his painful way to the cross amidst this terrifying pandemic that surrounds us, it might be helpful to draw on the spiritual wisdom of St Julian of Norwich, a mediaeval English saint who lived through the Black Death that wiped out over half of the world’s population. It is her unwavering, resurrection-focused optimism that I have always found incredibly inspiring.
Having been spared death herself, she saw a vision of Christ saying to her that it was ‘a joy, a bliss, an endless delight’ for Jesus to suffer the Passion for us, for through those nailed hands and pierced heart Christ won our salvation.
As we walk with Jesus on his via Crucis this week, we will surely see lots of terrifying news on our television screen. The reality of the world around us may make us quite anxious. Perhaps we ourselves may at one point have to face our own mortality too. But if we’re faithful in walking this journey with Christ through the streets of Jerusalem, up onto the hills of Golgotha, and in front of Christ’s empty tomb, we will able to join Julian in joyfully proclaiming that ‘all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well’ for Christ has already won the final prize for us – our salvation. Amen.
This sermon was originally preached at Grace Episcopal Church in Alexandria VA on Palm Sunday (Apr 5, 2020). Lectionary Readings for the Sunday of the Passion of our Lord: Palm Sunday, Year A: Matthew 21:1-11 / Psalm 118:1-2;19-29 / Isaiah 50:4-9a / Psalm 31:9-16 / Philippians 2:5-11 / Matthew 26:14-27:66.
Photo credits: Adam Amos
