Luke 23:1-49
When I was a child there were times when my parents had to say to
me, “Not yet, darling”…You can’t go downstairs yet to see
what Santa brought…”not yet, darling”.
Then I would squirm with suspense, burst with impatience, and
they would only repeat, “not yet, darling”.
Today is “not yet” Sunday. It is the Sunday we love to call
Palm Sunday. But it is in fact Passion Sunday, the Sunday that sets
the awful stage for Jesus arrest, his trial and his death on the
cross. It’s not time yet to celebrate. We must experience the
darkness of the Passion before we step into the light of Easter.
As Christians we are called to ask Jesus to walk with us in our
hardships. Now we may walk with him. Share the royal entry into
Jerusalem, feel the irony of knowing what lay beyond the Hosannas;
sit with Jesus at the table in the upper room as he broke the loaf
of bread and poured wine from the chalice, and knew that one of his
friends would betray him; go to Gethsemane and try to stay awake for
him in his agony; wait with his mother and his friends at the foot
of the cross. In our own need we do not hesitate to ask Jesus to
walk with us. Now in this Passion Week, we may walk with him.
Even if the day we remember this morning with our procession of
palms and music was a great celebration, it is still “not yet”
Sunday. People lining both sides of the winding road that entered
Jerusalem…waving cloaks and palm branches ripped from trees,
shouting their joy at the long-last arrival of the Messiah…it is
easy enough to see how it is that we confuse the celebration of Palm
Sunday with the “not yet” of Passion Sunday.
For it was in truth a huge celebration on the edge of Jerusalem
that day, the apostles no doubt delighted and relieved by the royal
welcome. Yet amidst all this welcome moved a lone figure on a donkey…the
object of Palm Sunday’s royal welcome, quiet, contained,
proceeding deliberately without smile or wave. Because Jesus knew
the palms meant nothing, he took neither assurance nor pride in the
hosannas. He knew what he alone could know, that every cheering
voice along the way only sharpened the knives of his enemies. And he
rode on. For the people it was Palm Sunday. For Jesus it was Passion
Sunday.
There were that day and still are two ways of experiencing the
same day, and it is ironic. For the happy people, it was time to
celebrate. For Jesus it was the first day of his Passion… He could
see no cause to celebrate. Jesus saw only the terrible irony as he
rode through the cheering crowd to what would most certainly be his
arrest and death. As usual his friends didn’t understand. It must
have seemed almost dreamlike for Jesus as he rode through the crowd.
Paul’s letter to the Philippians this morning points to Jesus
state of mind as he entered Jerusalem, as he went through the week
that followed. Paul called it an emptying of himself. You see this
concept more often in Eastern spirituality than in the West. It is a
letting go of control, a giving it over to God. The scripture says
that Jesus humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death…even
death on the cross.
As Jesus rode the borrowed colt through the cheering crowds that
morning, he registered neither pride nor pleasure in the royal
reception. He felt or showed he felt no fear at what lay ahead. He
simply rode on as the lively crowd greeted him. Holy tradition
teaches us that where pride or fear might have been, there was a
quiet, a humility, a receptivity to whatever it was that lay ahead
of him. His state of mind, a state of grace, which is God’s quiet
gift to us as we give ourselves over to his charge. It is perhaps
what is meant by the peace that passes all understanding.
This letting go is often found in Buddhist spirituality. You see
it on bumper stickers that say quite simply “Let Go and Let God.”
Even so the western frame of mind finds such release of control
foreign. But letting go as Jesus did in his entire Passion journey
is what true spirituality is about, western or eastern. It was the
state of mind of today’s Psalmist as he wrote; “I have trusted
in you, O Lord. I have said, ‘you are my God.’”
And that is what Jesus must have been feeling as he rode into the
city that would soon take his life. He had simply entrusted himself
to God’s will for him.
The whole story of humankind as we know it began with Adam and
Eve’s sin, with their desire to be like God. The serpent promised
them that if they ate the apple they would be godlike, they would
have the knowledge of good and evil. And Adam and Eve succumbed to
the temptation. For it is very tempting to a human being to be
godlike, to be in charge. We do it still in all kinds of ways. Our
essential hubris still lures us into mischief and pain.
But I have not seen in the human being any consistent longing to
humble oneself, to submit oneself to the will of God. If it is
there, it comes often as a result of pain and tribulation…when we
are cornered by life. It is a capitulation of human will, not a
basic human instinct. Satan still offers us the apple, and we still
reach for it.
And so it was that while Adam and Eve made a frantic attempt to
seize equality with God, Jesus humbled himself to become the
suffering servant of God. Paul says that he took on the form of a
slave. Jesus chose humility not regal authority as he rode into town
on the back of a young donkey.
But even as Jesus rode to the cross on the hill awaiting him, he
knew that death on a cross meant for him as a Jew not merely certain
death, but being outcast from the divine community. How could the
stakes have been higher? And Jesus rode on.
Such obedience is hard to grasp. It may almost seem folly to us….so
ready to act, so ready to take charge. But there are times in our
lives when our only choice may be our attitude, our frame of mind.
Once when I was in a bad patch at college, my roommate Ellie
shared her grandmother’s wisdom: “It isn’t so much what
happens to you that counts. It’s how you handle it.”
For some profound reason Jesus knew he must go to Passover in
Jerusalem. He knew he must go despite warning of a plot on his life
there. There must have been something about this dangerous trip that
he felt was central to his mission as God’s servant. He knew from
the day he and his followers left Galilee that his enemies were
waiting for him. He knew it, of course, in Bethany at dinner with
his friends. The friends knew it too, were probably frightened, each
one reflecting in his/her own way their dread.
And as the little group entered Jerusalem that Sunday morning, I
can just imagine the relief the apostles felt at the heroes welcome
they received. But it is Jesus figure that has always been the
focus, for here, yet again Jesus teaches us what it means to be
faithful in the face of what life brings. Paul says Jesus emptied
himself, submitting his will to whatever might lay ahead. And in his
submission Jesus found a quiet, a peace in his heart.
The Passion Week is central to Jesus life story. It is the
culmination of all that came before. But a time of passion may be
central to each life story. And while any sane human being would
prefer to avoid suffering, it is by far the exception when a human
being escapes a Passion story of his/her own….a time when whatever
your resources may be, you find yourself cornered….a time as well
when you show who you really are.
Perhaps you have already experienced in your life the exquisite
anxiety of waiting days for a report on the biopsy…the anxiety of
waiting to learn whether the radiation killed the cancer cells…the
anxiety of waiting in intensive care for some sign of life, some
sign of cognition on the part of someone you dearly love.
Make no mistake; life tries us, just as it tried Jesus. And
because God did not spare his son the pain of his humanity, we have
been given his example to follow in our own time of passion and
pain.…a way that by the help of God we too may know…a way of
humbling our will to whatever it is that lies ahead, unknown and
fearful as it may be. Just as Jesus clearly drew his strength from
his knowledge of the scriptures, from prayer, so may we.
Ultimately none of us controls our life, much as we would want
to. But in the life and passion of Jesus the Christ, God has given
us another way…a way of submitting our will to the will of God,
the way of Jesus, the way of today’s Psalmist….a way we may make
our own:
The Psalmist writes: For I have heard the whispering of The
crowd; fear is all around. They put their heads together Against me;
they plot to take my life. But as for me, I have trusted in you, O
Lord. I have said, “You are my God.”
And so may we. AMEN
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