250413 Palm Sunday EN

Luke 19.28-40; Philippians 2:5-11; Psalm 31.9-16; Philippians 3:17—4:1;
Luke 13:31-35

The question comes every year, as Holy Week approaches. Are we going to process outside for our Palm Sunday celebration – or is the Montreal weather going to force us to stay indoors? And would that be a bad thing or a blessed relief?

I wonder where your heart stands on this particular question?

Because after all, even if we are not going very far, and walking back only a short while after leaving the safety of our Cathedral, there are implications about being outside celebrating a religious festival, in a city and a culture which is no longer at ease with public religious expression. Being seen singing on the streets of Montreal following a cross may feel like a step too far for our own comfort – even if we are led in this by our wonderful choir.

The weather here is certainly not like a Jerusalem spring, and there are not many expressions of joy from passers by seeing us walk around, though perhaps more smiles than we might hope for, sometimes a mutter or shaking of a head.

And yet, this short foray outside may be for us a thermometer of our faith, a way for us to test our understanding of ourselves as people who seek to follow Jesus today, and how far we are prepared to go to stand out.

How did it feel for you to be outside and celebrate the one who had already changed the lives of many before going into Jerusalem to follow his destiny as the saviour of the world?
How comfortable does it feel to be called a Christian in a culture where the word has taken on so many negative underlays – from the taint of abuses of all sorts – to expressions of Christianity which seem to have nothing to do at all with the love of God which Jesus came to remind us of.
For the disciples of Jesus who were travelling with him, there was much elation and waving of palms. They had seen him at close quarter for three years, and they were excited that he was taking them into the Holy City to celebrate the Passover.

They will have known, however, that they were under scrutiny, with onlookers muttering and looking for ways to trick them, for a way to sideline Jesus, for a way to extinguish this movement.
Yet there is joy at being together, at travelling together, at enjoying the big city together, until the excitement of the arrival dies down at the end of the day – when everyone retires for the night in the balmy Jerusalem evening.

This is when introspection and reflection force Jesus to confront the challenges that lay ahead as he spends time on his own with God his father, in prayer, pondering on what awaits him in the city in that fateful week.

He might have used the words of Psalm 31 which the choir just sang: ‘Have mercy on me, O Lord, for I am in trouble; my eye is consumed with sorrow, and also my throat and my belly’.
We can read in these words the stage fright of the leader before a momentous event poised to happen. Which has to happen. And yet is not welcome.

Jesus, so attuned to others, will have heard the whispers of the crowd, the fear surrounding him and the constant plotting of which the Psalmist speaks.

And like the psalmist, he puts his life in God’s hands: ‘Rescue me from the hand of my enemies and from those who persecute me. Make your face to shine upon your servant and in your loving-kindness save me’. And then doubtless goes to sleep uneasily.

Palm Sunday – which is also called Passion Sunday – is a liturgical time warp. It is a day in which we try to bring together the events of the last week of Jesus, and yet does not do any of it justice.

In our services this morning, we go from joy to pain to death in a short amount of time. And then we go home. Left to simmer. Left to ponder. Or simply to return to our occupations and forget until next Sunday – when we will have moved to an empty tomb and the story of the Resurrection and a new beginning. But how?

The mystery of Easter is not experienced simply by two religious services at either end of Holy Week. The mystery of Easter – the foundation of our faith – is experienced in following Jesus every step of the way, as we embark on this most holy of weeks.

As we not only listen afresh to stories that have changed the hearts and souls of generations past and bring them to life now in our world, here in downtown Montreal or wherever we might be this week.

But also as we literally embody those stories. By sitting together in darkness retelling them to one another like the early disciples. By washing one another’s feet as Jesus did. By partaking in the last supper which Jesus gave to his disciples. By sitting in front of the cross. And by being present at the death of Jesus and experiencing the depth of grief and loss on Good Friday.

And then the emptiness and the wait. The denial, disarray, hopelessness and despair until…
It is hard to make sense of the Christian faith until we have a living experience of Holy Week and Easter. And it is hard to make sense of Easter until we dedicate some time in community to connect with Jesus in his time of joy and sorrow and pain until the end.

Our lives are complex and busy, and we all have much to juggle.

Still, this coming week is a week to let go of social media and 24 hour news, and instead it is a week to remember, and be re-formed as the people we are meant to be.

Deepen your faith and relationship with God, and make some time to join us in daily acts of worship in person or online, or at least secure some prayer time to be with Jesus in spirit.

During the ancient liturgies of Maundy Thursday and Good Friday, in the sacredness of this sanctuary, let your hearts and souls be touched and connect deeply with the emotional and spiritual turmoil of Jesus.

And ready yourself for the elation and joy of meeting the risen Christ at Easter.

Amen

Bertrand Olivier