The palms and The Passion

The cartoon character Charlie Brown is standing with his friend gazing into a star-filled sky. “Would you like to see a falling star?” says Charlie. “Sure” replies his friend, “But then again I don’t know. I’d hate to have it fall just on my account”

When Christ Jesus came into the world, he came on our account. The liturgy for this week, which we call ‘holy’, concentrates our hearts and minds on this divine truth. He came on our account –to seek and to save

The week begins with a fanfare. Palms are waving, crowds are cheering. The event is stage-managed in a deliberate and planned way with purpose and courage

As Jesus enters Jerusalem, the Royal City, he embraces his identity as the Son of God who comes to redeem mankind. Luke tells us he was “resolute” in his decision to fulfil his destiny. Matthew is seized by the wonder of the occasion. He recognised the prophecy of Zechariah being played out in this carnival atmosphere.

“Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion! Shout, Daughter of Jerusalem! See, your king comes to you, righteous and having salvation, gentle and riding on a donkey. He will proclaim peace to the nations.

George Herbert captured the moment

Throw away thy rod

Throw away thy wrath

O my God

Take the gentle path.

So this parade is no mere commotion. The donkey carried Jesus over the two-mile stretch from the suburbs to the city centre. It’s a parade that grabs the attention of the crowds. Matthew tells us there were crowds running ahead and running behind.

It’s estimated that over two million pilgrims were in the city that day. The place was hiving with pilgrims from all over the region and beyond. The Passover season was in full swing and the impact of Jesus entry was all embracing. Matthew says: “The whole city was stirred.

Of course many got carried away in all the excitement. There were those who were only there for the entertainment. They went along for the ride not really sure what it was all about.

The waving palms and the sound waves of cheering spectators conjures up an image of enthusiasm and total commitment to Jesus. But we know better.

We know how easy it is to generate noise and glitz and celebrity mania. The big event can mask a big con. The big event can blow your mind and throw

Jesus knew that and the carnival atmosphere that swept him into the city was a hollow thing, a lot of hot air. It was crowd hysteria fired and stoked up by people who at best misunderstood Jesus and at worst wanted to manipulate him and use him for their own ends

Not far below the surface of this show of support was a hostile, resentful attitude. Jesus had to deliver what they wanted or else. He didn’t and in a few days time the cheers turned to yells of anger “Crucify Him”.

The palms withered in the heat of the conflict that was now coming to a head, a spiritual conflict between good and evil. The hot air became a cold and cruel

Perhaps there is a cautionary lesson in this frenzied atmosphere where fickle faith blows hot and cold. It should alert us to the need for balance in our Christian worship and vocation.

An over indulgence in praise and adulation can carry us out of this world into a kind of ecstasy that is far removed from the humility and the stilling presence of the Servant King.

 

“This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it” but what does the Lord require of thee – to love mercy, to do justice, to do the right thing. We need to hold that balance.

“Mandatum” is the Latin word for “commandment” from which we get “Maundy” as in Maundy Thursday. On that day we remember another deliberate, well-planned event namely The Last Supper in the upper room and Our Lord’s command to “do this in remembrance of me.”

By then all the hype and the apparent enthusiasm for Jesus had gone like snow of a ditch. The Zealots looking for the chance of political gain, even revolution, realised they had no chance. The noisy fan club element felt as if they had been relegated.

The popular perceptions of Jesus were changing by the hour.

“Who is this?” they asked. “This is Jesus, the prophet from Nazareth in Galilee”

What a muted response. The claims of a great military coup had dried up. The rousing boasts of a new order and a dynamic political agenda came to nothing.

Nevertheless Jesus is resolute about his mission. And the signs are that the authorities and vested interests are preparing to get rid of this thorn in the flesh. To Pontius Pilate Jesus is an embarrassment; to the High Priests Jesus is a dangerous threat.

So waving palms and shouts of support for Jesus become risky. The fickle fans, the merely curious and the indifferent begin to drift away. Jesus is not a safe person to be around, not safe at all

Jesus knew and understood their flawed expectations, their misinformed ideas, their half-baked popular perceptions and their bitter sectarian divisions.

“How often would I have gathered together the people as a hen gathers her chickens under her wings, but they would not.” Now the carnival is over. Faith is not a sentimental journey

In The Chronicles of Narnia, Aslan the great lion, the king of wild beasts is C S Lewis’ representation of Jesus. When Susan asks Mr Beaver about Aslan she says, “I thought he was a man. Is he quite safe?

“Safe?” replies Mr Beaver. “Who said anything about being safe? Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King.

So we enter this week that is called “Holy” with hope and expectation, even trepidation. The Risen Lord comes to each one of us. He comes on our account

So we meet him as pilgrims on a journey of discovery and renewal with songs of praise and adoration, attentive to his word, obedient to his command.