Palm Sunday

 

April 13, 2025

 

+So,this is how we begin Holy Week 2025.

 O

urliturgy today—this service we have this morning—begins on a high note, as it alwaysdoes.

 

Jesusenters in a hail of praises.

 

Thecrowds acclaim him.

 

Itis a wonderful and glorious moment as Jesus enters Jerusalem, praised byeveryone.

 

Buteverything turns quickly.

 

Whatbegins on a high note, ends on the lowest note possible.

 

Thecrowds quickly turn against him.

 

Heis betrayed. He is whipped. He is condemned.

 

Andalthough we hopefully have not physically experienced this things, most of us,have been here at least emotionally.

 

Wehave known these highs and lows in our own lives.

 

Wehave known the high notes—those glorious, happy moments that we prayed wouldnever end.

 

Andwe have known the low notes—when we thought nothing could be worse.

 

Andsometimes these highs and lows have happened to us as quickly as they did forJesus.

 

Unlesswe make personal what is happening to Jesus in our Gospel reading this morningand throughout this coming holy week, it remains a story completely removedfrom our own lives.

 

Aswe hear this reading, we do relate to Jesus in his suffering and death.

 

Howcan we not?

 

Whenwe hear this Gospel—this very disturbing reading—how can we not feel what hefelt?

 

Howcan we sit here passively and not react in some way to this violence done tohim?

 

Howcan we sit here and not feel, in some small way, the betrayal, the pain, thesuffering?

 

Afterall, none of us in this church this morning, has been able to get to this pointin our lives unscathed in some way.

 

Weall carry our own passions—our own crucifixions—with us.

 

Wehave all known betrayal in our lives as times.

 

Wehave all known what it feels like to be alone—to feel as though there is no oneto comfort us.

 

Wheneverwe feel these things, we are sharing in the story of Jesus.

 

Weare bearing, in our very selves, the very wounds of Jesus—the bruises, the whipmarks, the nails. 

 

Andwhen we suffer in any way in this life, and we all have, we have cried out,“where are you, God?”

 

Thatis what this story of Jesus shows us very clearly.

 

Whereis God when we suffer?

 

Whereis God when it seems as though everyone has turned from us, and abandoned us?

 

Whereis God in our agony?

 

Whereis God?

 

Thedeath of Jesus shows us where God is in those moments.

 

Whereis God?

 

Godis right here, suffering with us in those moments.

 

Howdo we know this?

 

Becausewe see it clearly and acutely in this story of Jesus.

 

AsI said, the Gospel story we heard this morning is our story.

 

Forthose of us who carry wounds with us, we are the ones carrying the wounds ofJesus in our bodies and in our souls as well.

 

Everytime we hear the story of Jesus’ torture and death and can relate to it, everytime we can hear that story and feel what Jesus felt because we too have beenmaligned, attacked, betrayed, insulted, spat upon, or discriminated againstthen we too are sharing in the story.

 

Everytime we are turned away and betrayed, every time we are deceived, and every timewe feel real, deep, spiritual pain, we are sharing in Jesus’ passion.

 

Whenwe can feel the wounds we carry around with us begin to bleed again when wehear the story of Jesus’ death, this story becomes our story too.

 

But…andthis is very important BUT, there’s something wonderful and incredible aboutall of this as well.

 

Thegreatest part about sharing in this story of Jesus is that we get to share inthe whole story.

 

Lookwhat awaits us next Sunday.

 

Thesesufferings we hear about today and in our own lives are ultimately temporary.

 

Butwhat we celebrate next Sunday is forever—it is unending.

 

Eastermorning awaits us all—that day in which we will rise from the ashes of thislife—the ashes of Ash Wednesday, the ashes of these palms we wave this morning,the ashes of war and discrimination, and live anew in that unending dawn.

 

NextSunday reminds us is that, no matter how painful our sufferings have been, nomatter how deep our wounds are, God, who has suffered with us, will alwaysraise us from this pain of ours, just as God raised Jesus from his tomb.

 

Godwill dry all our tears.

 

Allour pains will be healed in the glorious light of Easter morning.

 

This is our hope.

 

Thisis what we are striving toward in case we might forget that fact.

 

Ourown Easter morning awaits us, as well.

 

So,as difficult as it might be to hear this morning’s Gospel, as hard as it is torelive our pains and sufferings as we experience the pains and sufferings ofJesus, just remember that in the darkness of Good Friday, the dawn of Eastermorning is about to break.

 

Withit, the wounds disappear.

 

Thepains and the sufferings are forgotten.

 

Thetears are dried for good.

 

Thegrave will lie empty behind us.

 

Andbefore us lies life.

 

Unendinglife.

 

Lifewithout war.

 

Lifewithout violence.

 

Lifewithout discrimination.

 

Lifewithout hatred.

 

Beforeus lies a life triumphant and glorious in ways we can only—here and now—justbarely begin to comprehend.