Nah, it wasn't facepalm Sunday it was just regular old palm Sunday. You know that story, right? The story of when Jesus rides into Jerusalem, humble, on a donkey? Yes, that story.
Jesus Comes to Jerusalem as King
12 The next day the great crowd that had come for the festival heard that Jesus was on his way to Jerusalem. 13 They took palm branches and went out to meet him, shouting,
“Hosanna![a]”
“Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”[b]
“Blessed is the king of Israel!”
14 Jesus found a young donkey and sat on it, as it is written:
16 At first his disciples did not understand all this. Only after Jesus was glorified did they realize that these things had been written about him and that these things had been done to him.
17 Now the crowd that was with him when he called Lazarus from the tomb and raised him from the dead continued to spread the word. 18 Many people, because they had heard that he had performed this sign, went out to meet him. 19 So the Pharisees said to one another, “See, this is getting us nowhere. Look how the whole world has gone after him!”Jesus Predicts His Death
20 Now there were some Greeks among those who went up to worship at the festival. 21 They came to Philip, who was from Bethsaida in Galilee, with a request. “Sir,” they said, “we would like to see Jesus.” 22 Philip went to tell Andrew; Andrew and Philip in turn told Jesus.23 Jesus replied, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. 24 Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds. 25 Anyone who loves their life will lose it, while anyone who hates their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. 26 Whoever serves me must follow me; and where I am, my servant also will be. My Father will honor the one who serves me.
John 12:12-26
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| No no, not writing IN the wall.... |
In this way, it's the polar opposite of the film 'the wicker man.' No, not the dreadful Nicolas Cage remake, the really really good original, staring Edward Woodward, and Christopher Lee. A very very good film, and it hinges on one key point. It's the reverse of the Palm Sunday story. It's the story of a man who comes to a community to be killed for the community, but he is the only one in town who has no idea that he's the sacrifice. And that's why it's a horror movie. It's a horror movie because if you don't know you're the intended sacrifice, and the entire community is colluding against you, it's a problem.But Jesus, as he rides into town, knows more than anyone else about this. He knows that he will be slain when he gets into town. But he rides into town anyway.
It's the most foolhardy thing in the entire world, really. It's ensured and guaranteed martyrdom. Jesus is well aware that he will be killed, but he rides into town anyway. He rides directly into the heart of the lions' den, into the gaping maw of those who kill and destroy, knowing that those who would kill are going to kill. That sense of self preservation that accompanies everything we do, the sense that calls us to get the heck out of bad situations, the sense that encourages us to run away from anything dangerous, the sense that makes us avoid bad neighborhoods, that makes us stay far away from dark alleys, that sense kicked in for Jesus, big time, but he overrode it.
This is what it means to be fully human and fully divine. This is why the sacrifice of Jesus is as intense as it is. I know I know, usually when you find out about something, you find out that it's not as bad as you thought it might be. And that applies mainly to stuff that you've never experienced. You go through it, you try it out, and you think to yourself 'huh. That wasn't so bad.' That's not possible, though, if you're Jesus. Then you know exactly what you're getting into. You know fully well what your actions will bring with them. You know not just what might happen, or what is likely to happen, but what will happen. And the weight of the issue is that his death becomes more and more inevitable with everything that he does.
I've heard a great many people, mainly atheists, who seem to think that because Jesus was divine as well as human, that his suffering didn't mean anything. That he was just momentarily inconvenienced for our sins. Well, I'd like to put that to bed. Nothing hurts as much as a disaster, a penalty, a problem that you could easily avoid, yet you chose not to. For whatever noble reason, for whatever necessity that was kicking around, you chose to stay behind, and take it on the chin. And there's a good chance that when you get caught in something, that the matter might spiral out of control. It's along the same lines as when you step off the high diving board. But can you imagine if the only thing that would keep you rushing towards the water wasn't gravity, but your willpower? Gee whiz. Now imagine if the pool was full of nails instead of water, and you have a better idea. Would there be any chance that you'd actually keep on falling if you didn't have to?
The ride to Jerusalem on palm Sunday, surrounded by people who would be sure to betray you, being cheered on by crowds whom you know for sure are going to betray you, deny you and leave you, would be an intensely difficult thing. Possibly the most difficult thing. People will betray you, they will turn their backs on you, they will deny you and walk away from you. But if you could see it happen before it did, if you could know for sure, for certainty, that you would be denied and betrayed and stepped all over, if you know for absolute certain, would you ever go into that situation? Probably not. But Jesus did.
What you as an individual Christian need to know is that the situation that Christ rides into, full of people who are guaranteed to deny him, to betray him, to hate him, and to spurn him, you need to know that that's exactly what you expect Jesus to do on a weekly basis. You expect him to do this every Sunday. You expect him to come to your church, full of people who welcome him in with hosannas and praise, and stick around like it ain't no thing. And you know, and I know, and dogs know that at some point in the week, you're going to deny Christ. You're going to turn your back on him, you're going to betray him, you're going to wish him dead. You're going to curse his name by the end of the week, and if you don't then you're doing it wrong, and you haven't been listening to what he says. But if you have been paying attention, then after a week of Jesus telling you what you should be doing and reminding you that you're not doing it, then you may or may not be ready to kill him yourself.
But that's the poetry of Palm Sunday, and of your faith in general. Jesus only ever associates with people who love him and who are planning on betraying him alternately. Have you noticed that? You are, essentially, part of that Palm Sunday crowd, greeting Christ with joy and love, and then turning your back on him and spurning him by the end of the week. And as bemusing as it is for you to see Palm Sunday, and the rest of Holy Week, remember that every week is essentially holy week, in that way. Every week is that poetic rollercoaster, of Jesus coming to people who love him, but who will end up hating him and denying him, only to cling to him when he rises again. Our weeks are laced with anger at God, shame at spurning him, and needing his love and care. It's the same as it always has been, and that's why it remains so poetic and so meaningful. When Jesus rides into Jerusalem, he rides towards those who will betray him. When he rides into Regina, or Saskatoon, or Edmonton, or London, or, gosh, anywhere else, he does the same.
But that's what he does. Rides on, rides on in majesty, in lowly pomp, rides on to die. To die for whom? To die for you.
PJ.
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