Sunday, April 23, 2023

Along the Road

Rev. Debbie Cato
Luke 24:13-35
Fairfield Community Church
April 23 , 2023 

Holy Spirit, send your fire to dance across these familiar words, illuminating ancient stories, illuminating weary hearts. Set us ablaze again with the promises of the Holy Word, still proclaimed for us. Amen.

 

 Along the Road

  

The morning begins at midday on the road with two sorry disciples who have bet their lives on the wrong savior.  Cleopas and his unnamed companion  - many scholars believe it was his wife - have left Jerusalem for Emmaus, a seven-mile jaunt.  As they walk, they are talking and discussing the events that took place in Jerusalem.  They were in Jerusalem for the Passover celebration like the other Jews.  They were also followers of Jesus of Nazareth and they saw and heard the events of his arrest and crucifixion and death, and they are confused and overwhelmed and deeply disturbed.  Their hearts and the words they speak are heavier than any supplies they are carrying home from the annual Passover pilgrimage to their holy city, now a city of horrors.  They may be headed home after the normally joyous occasion of the Passover meal, but the angel of death has killed their hopes for the dawn of a messianic age.  They have heard that it is “Easter” from the women at the tomb, but as of yet they do not know it in the core of their soul.[1]   They do not yet believe.

On this road of broken dreams, the incognito Jesus joins their journey.  Like the others, they think Jesus is dead.  Do their wounded hearts blind them?   Did God restrain their vision?  Or don’t they recognize him because they don’t expect to see him?

Who among us have not felt blindsided in times of distress and wondered if even God can see what is around the bend?  This passage encourages us to look deeply at ourselves; the road leading away from the holy city is ours.  The soles of our shoes knows the brokenhearted steps of a road away from a broken dream; from a devastating event; from an unrecognized resurrection. 

In a quagmire of confusion, sadness, dismay, betrayal, and anger – Cleopas and his wife respond to Jesus’ leading questions about the events they are trying to make sense of. 

Filled with melancholy the two disciples recount the events that have changed their world.  They describe Jesus and his mission as a “prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all people.” The Emmaus disciples “had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel”, but the death of Jesus shattered those hopes.  To compound the disciples’ despair, some of the women in the community have brought back the preposterous news that the tomb was empty and claimed they had a vision of angels announcing that Jesus was alive. 

They are amazed that this man hasn’t heard about these events.  How could this stranger along the road not know what had happened?  How could he not be aware of the crucifixion?

Then, without being asked, this stranger who joins them on their journey tells them a story.  He tells the history of their faith – their holy scriptures in a way that draws them deep into conversation as they continue their journey to Emmaus.  Jesus himself interprets his suffering and death for these two disciples.  He explains that it wasn’t a defeat of God’s purpose but the necessary pathway to new life.  The risen Christ brings to light the full meaning of the events that had disturbed Cleopas and his wife so much by appealing to the teachings of Moses and all the prophets.

From the original chaos of non-existence, God creates life.  From the slavery of Egypt come freedom and a homeland.  From the destruction of exile comes a renewed people.  Jesus’ interpretation of the Scriptures for these two lost souls gives them true understanding of the meaning of Jesus’ death and resurrection.  In fact, we are told that their hearts “burn” within them.  Christ’s presence enables them to understand the full meaning of the mystery of His passion. 

Drawing near to their destination, Jesus leaves them free to continue on without him.  He’s prepared to continue on his way and let them get home.  His love is such that we are always free to turn our backs on him, close the door of our hearts against him, bolt our minds shut in fear of what inviting him in might involve.  It’s our decision.  But they must find Jesus’ storytelling, his review of scripture encouraging because when they arrive in Emmaus, they don’t want their time with him to end. 

They extend hospitality to this stranger that they met along the road who has passionately recounted the history of their faith and the promises of God to them.  Perhaps the travelers’ hearts hunger for more; maybe they are just living out the practice of hospitality. 

Either way,  still unaware that it is Christ who has been walking and talking with them, they invite him to stay.  And because of this invitation of hospitality, the story Jesus has been telling them reaches its climax with a meal.  It is in the sharing of the meal that Jesus takes the bread that is on the table, gives a blessing, and breaks it.  And it is at this point – this point of blessing and breaking the bread that new life and new eyes are offered to Cleopas and his wife.  The masquerade is over, and hope bubbles and gurgles again.  The stones sealing the tombs of their hearts are rolled back.  Christ is revealed.  He is in their midst.  He’s been with them all along.

The broken bread nourishes their broken faith.  The weary travelers feel alive; their hearts are renewed.  The witness of the women at the empty tomb is now their testimony too.  The Lord is risen!  The Lord is risen, indeed! Immediately, their confusion, sadness, dismay, betrayal, and anger all turn to joy and thanksgiving!

At the conclusion of the story, the risen Christ vanishes from their sight, and the two disciples leave immediately to return to the community in Jerusalem – they walk back the 7 miles they had just traveled to tell the others.  I imagine their steps are lighter, their conversation filled with energy and excitement knowing that Christ is alive. 

Once they get to Jerusalem and back to the other disciples, they learn that the risen Jesus has already appeared to the disciples there.  Cleopas and his wife add their testimony about their encounter with Christ along the road and at the meal to the others. 

The hospitality of the traveling companions becomes the doorway to grace.  The willingness of the stranger to enter their space suggests trust and hope – and Jesus more than repays their welcoming overture.  Hospitality expresses deep vulnerability; welcoming a stranger is always risky.  It is not readily apparent who the guest really might be.  Jesus becomes the host at this meal, which becomes an expression of thanks-giving and deepened faith.

Just think – if Cleopas and his wife had not extended Jesus hospitality; if they had not invited him to stay; they wouldn’t have known that they met and walked and talked with the risen Christ.  If they hadn’t taken a risk by inviting this stranger into their home, they would have missed sharing a meal with the Messiah.  If they hadn’t extended hospitality to this stranger, they may have missed understanding the true meaning of his death and resurrection. 

It has been suggested that hospitality is the key to evangelism in our day.  Action more than words, provides the space where others can enter and find themselves at home.  Sharing a common meal breaks down boundaries so relationships can form.  It is through conversations that we find ourselves in communion with Christ, who we often find in other people.  And of course, we always find Christ when whenever we gather together at the Lord’s Table, as we will be doing this morning. 

We see in this passage on the Road to Emmaus – just days after Christ was crucified and then rose from the dead, the practice of hospitality – a foundational practice of welcoming strangers and giving them  a meal.  Even after walking 7 miles in a state of depressed, confusion, Cleopas and his wife invite a stranger in , resulting in a full-disclosure of the risen Christ!  A face-face meeting with the Messiah.  Hospitality is important.

Are we a church that extends hospitality?  Do we go beyond a friendly hello and  actually invite strangers to sit with us?   To share conversation? Or do we just sit with our friends at fellowship time?  Are we willing to be vulnerable and take a risk and invite someone new to sit with us and talk with us?  If we aren’t, we could be missing the chance of an encounter with the risen Christ?    Let us pray:

 

Loving God, Thank you for walking with us in all circumstances of our life.  We pray that you will surprise us with your presence when we least expect it.  Help us to show hospitality to strangers – both as a church and as individuals so that they will see your presence through us, your disciples.   We pray this in your precious name.  Amen.


[1] Feasting on the Word. Year A, Volume 2.  Lent Through Eastertide.  Third Sunday of Easter. Luke 24.13-35.  Pastoral Perspective.  Shannon Michael Pater.  P. 418.


Sunday, April 16, 2023

Peace

Rev. Debbie Cato
John 20:19-31
Fairfield Community Church
April 16 , 2023 

God of sacred texts, speak powerfully to us today through what is written in your holy scripture. Help us hear the witnesses to Jesus the Messiah, the Son of God, and to the promises of life and peace in his name.

 

Peace

 

Just last Sunday, we celebrated Easter – the resurrection of our Lord.   Mary Magdalene went to the tomb early that Sunday morning to mourn the death of Jesus.  She went to prepare  Jesus’ body for burial.  Her grief deepens and she becomes greatly disturbed to find the stone removed from the opening of the tomb.  Mary followed Jesus all the way to the cross.  She witnessed His crucifixion.  She saw him suffer and die on the cross.  And now his tomb was empty.  Where was his body? Had someone stolen it?

 

The disciples, John the Beloved and Peter dare to look inside the tomb and find no proof of tomb robbing.  Rather, they find everything calm and orderly.  Jesus' grave clothes are folded and left behind.  Puzzled and frightened, John and Peter run away.  They go back to the others.  Back to the room where everyone is huddled together behind locked doors.

 

But Mary stays behind.  Though she heard Jesus explain about his suffering; explain about his death and resurrection, she did not understand; she did not believe. That is until the risen Christ appeared and spoke to her; until he called her name.  With the sound of her name that morning, she recognizes her Lord’s voice.  Mary runs and filled with joy, she shares the good news with the other disciples!  “I have seen the Lord!” she tells them.  “I have seen the Lord!”  But, they dismiss her words as foolishness.  How can it be?!  They have not seen for themselves and, after all, she is just an hysterical woman.  They stay locked in a room, hiding. 

It's easy for us to question their faith.  Three times Jesus’ told them what was going to happen in Jerusalem.  Yet, scared and confused they lock themselves in a room.  It’s easy to criticize them for not getting it!   But, think about their circumstances.  The Roman government was powerful.  The disciples saw first-hand the harsh crudeness of the punishment they handed out.  They were traumatized.  Their leader had just suffered unimaginable pain and suffering.  Their teacher had been crucified.  The man they believed was the Messiah, died on the cross.  They were recognized as his followers. Were soldiers looking for them too?   Would the soldiers find them and torture and crucify them too?  You bet they were scared. 

The depth to which the disciples’ spirits must have fallen is easy to understate.  But I think they also felt guilty.  They knew that Judas was not the only one who had betrayed Jesus.  Three times, Peter denied that he even knew Jesus.  The rest of the disciples had run away when Jesus needed them.  Only John stood near the cross with the women.  The others watched from a distance – where no one would see them.  They must have felt like cowards; like traitors.

Adam Hamilton, a United Methodist pastor said, “Fear and guilt weren’t the only emotions weighing heavy on the hearts of the disciples.  They left everything to follow Jesus.  They believed that He was the Messiah.  They believed that he would restore Israel.  They believed that God was with him in powerful ways.  They felt in their hearts that he had the “Words of Life.”  Their hopes and dreams, even their faith, was crucified with Jesus.  They must have sunk into utter despair.”

We know about utter despair, don't we?  Those dark times that paralyze us. Those times when fear overtakes reality.  Those times we feel completely isolated and hopeless.  Those times we want to hide behind locked doors.

Have you ever been paralyzed by bad news?  Perhaps the Freeman school shooting left you in utter despair; paralyzed in darkness. Perhaps it’s a lay-off notice from a job.  Or maybe it’s the news that your partner no longer loves you.  Or perhaps it’s a medical diagnosis.  Or a child who’s in trouble and you don’t know what to do. 

I don’t know about you, but I find the world we live in pretty over-whelming these days.  School shootings, children being killed.  Mass shootings in grocery stores, shopping malls, churches, places we think are safe.  People losing healthcare, unable to get lifesaving treatments.  The fast pace of rising housing costs resulting in an increase in homelessness in our communities. The high cost of groceries and gasoline. O.K., I need to stop now!   My blood pressure is rising!  

Do you feel overwhelmed like I do?  Fearful?  Do you sink into despair?  Do you feel hopeless at times?  Do you want to lock your doors and draw your blinds and hide?

Friends, it is into through these closed doors that the risen Christ enters.

To his frightened disciples, paralyzed in utter despair, Jesus says, “Peace be with you.” 

To those stunned and scared, holding a lay-off notice, Jesus says, “Peace be with you.” 

To those reeling from a break-up or devastated by a divorce, Jesus steps into your heart and says, “Peace be with you.”  

As you sit in a doctor’s office hearing the dreaded word “cancer”, Jesus is there.   Peace be with you.”

And in the midst of what seems like a violent, hate-filled, world, stands Jesus.  Peace be with you,” he says.  Peace be with you. 

Smack, dab in the middle of our despair; in the middle of our confusion and our fear; in the middle of our hopelessness, stands our risen Lord and Savior.  Peace be with you.  

These are the same words Jesus’ spoke to his disciples the night of His arrest; as they shared supper together.

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you.”  Jesus told them.  I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” 

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” 

And now, after all the drama; after all the pain and suffering; after all the confusion and all the darkness; after all the anger and guilt; after all the fear and grief; Jesus offers his weary band of followers His perfect peace. 

Can it be?  Is the Lord really alive?  Can we believe it?  These disillusioned,  frightened disciples finally rejoice when Jesus’ proves it with his hands and his side. These followers of Jesus’ see for themselves, and then they believe.  It's true!  I believe!  The Lord is risen!  The Lord is risen, indeed! 

What is really amazing, is that The One offering the words of peace to the ones locked behind closed doors, is the very One who endured the brutality of the chaos and hatred.  Jesus was arrested and mocked and beaten and nailed to a cross, dying naked in plain sight.  Jesus stands among them knowing what it means to suffer; knowing what it means to be humiliated; knowing what it means to be falsely accused.  Peace be with you,” He says.

Jesus offers peace that comes from the personal knowledge that, in spite of all the hurt and harm the world inflicts; in spite of all the darkness we walk through, God’s compassion and care is Jesus constant presence. His peace is with us always in all things.  It applies at every point where we fear that God’s plan for the world’s well-being is out of touch with the chaos and hatred of everyday life. 

Jesus does not promise that we will not suffer.  He does not say that bad things will not happen.  He does not promise we will always be happy.  What he does promise is that His peace will always be with us.  That His peace will always be with you.

If you are the one holding that lay-off notice, not knowing how you are going to put food on the table for your family, Jesus says to you, “Peace be with you. Do not let your heart be troubled and do not be afraid.” 

 To those trying to figure out how you can go on after the love of your life is gone, Jesus is there.  I am with you.  Do not be afraid.  I am with you,” He whispers.

When you stop breathing after hearing that horrible diagnosis and yet somehow, mysteriously, you feel a deep stillness, that is Jesus.  Do not be afraid.  I am with you. My perfect peace is right here.”

And when you feel the world spinning out of control, remember what Jesus said to his closest friends the night of His arrest, knowing that He was going to be arrested, beaten, and then crucified.  Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your heart be troubled and do not be afraid.” 

           May the Peace of Christ Be with You!   Amen.


Sunday, April 9, 2023

Who Are You Looking For?

Rev. Debbie Cato
John 20:1-18
Fairfield Community Church
April 9 , 2023


Rabbouni, Teacher, We have spent the past six weeks asking questions.
We have turned over every rock. We have shined a light in every dusty corner. We have opened the blinds. We have wrestled with truth. We have sought after you. So on this Easter morning, bring wisdom to our seeking. Move through this room until the walls echo with the sound of alleluias. Roll back the stones that might prevent us from drawing closer to you. Calm our hearts. Say our names. Awaken us to your presence in our midst. We are here. We are listening. We are seeking after you. Alleluia. Amen.

 

Who Are You Looking For?

 

Our theme for Lent has been seeking – seeking answers to questions that we asked each week.  Let’s recall all the questions that have guided us this  Lenten season.

We asked” “Is this the fast that I choose?”  and “Who will you listen to?” We wondered : “How do we begin again?” and “Will you give me a drink?” We probed the question: “Who sinned?” and “Can these bones live?” And last week we asked:  “Where are you headed?”

Is this the fast I choose?  Who will you listen to?  How do we begin again?  Will you give me a drink?  Who sinned?  Can these bones live?  And where are you headed?  These seven questions have guided us on our Lenten journey. This Easter morning, it is these questions that bring us to the culminating question: “Who are you looking for?” Who are you looking for?  All this time, we have been seeking: seeking answers, seeking guidance, hopefully, seeking Jesus. But the responses we get depend very much on what—or who—we are looking for.[1]  So today we ask, who are you looking for?

As Mary weeps at the empty tomb, the picture she has formed in her mind is one of tragedy. Jesus has died.  Now the unthinkable has happened.  Someone has gone so far as to steal his body. I imagine she thought enemies of Jesus did this, the same enemies who wanted to squelch his voice and end his movement. The same enemies that nailed him to the cross just three days prior.

As she weeps, she turns around. Mary sees a man standing there. She cannot see that it is Jesus. She assumes it is the gardener.  Perhaps he knows where Jesus’ body is. She can see only through her grief and through the lens of tragedy.[2]  Think of the trauma she had experienced watching her Lord being crucified?  Think of the distress watching  him being nailed to a cross.  Think of the horror watching him hang and die on the cross in so much pain and agony. In the midst of the crisis, the horror of the events of that Friday, Mary could not remember what Jesus had said.  The things Jesus had explained about his death.  How could she? She was deep in grief and shock. Mary could not remember that Jesus said he would rise on the third day.  She could not remember.  All she could feel was grief and fear. And now, coming to the tomb to prepare his body for burial, it was gone.  She was pushed beyond her limits. What else could she think?  What other explanation could there be?  Jesus’ body had been stolen.

And then Mary hears a voice.  A familiar voice. In the Aramaic translation, Jesus says to her, “Why do you weep? And who do you want?”  Who do you want? What an interesting question. Of all the versions of Jesus out there, which one do you believe? For which Jesus are you crying? Who do you want?[3] Who are you looking for?  

“Why are you weeping?”  In our Gospel story, both the angels and “the gardener” ask Mary why she's so desperately sad.  This question honors sorrow as a legitimate and faithful pathway to revelation.  Mary Magdalene sees Jesus because she stays put in the place where her pain is. She stays and weeps, giving the grief, the despair, her hopelessness, and agony of the circumstances the respect they deserve.  Peter and the beloved disciple leave when they see the empty tomb, but Mary stays, bewildered and bereaved. She refuses to abandon what is real, even when what is real is unbearable.[4]

We would be hard-pressed to find a better question for the time and place we find ourselves in this Easter.  Why are you weeping?  Are you weeping for someone who has died too soon? Are you weeping for the many victims of gun violence?  School shootings?  Covid 19? Are you sad because you’ve lost your job? Are you in tears because the world has changed, and your place in it feels newly uncertain or shaky?  Are you grieving because your faith isn’t sustaining you as much as you think it should? Are you sad because you miss the weekly comforts of church, communion, ritual, and community? Are you crying because you’re lonely?  Are you weeping for your children or grandchildren, who must inherit a world so filled with pain?[5] Are you grieving because  you want a closer relationship with God?

Why are you weeping?  Who are you looking for?

To ask this question — and to answer it honestly — is part of having faith.  It is truthful and it is loving, and it is a place to begin.  It is a place to begin whenever we are struggling.  Whenever we need a resurrection in our life. 

When Mary finds the tomb empty, she stands weeping at the vacant grave. Jesus, mysteriously appearing as the gardener, asks her: “Why are you weeping? Who are you looking for?” On this Easter morning, who—or what—are you looking for? Why have you come to the tomb? What kind of Jesus are you looking for? Who do we see in the living Christ? What veils need to be lifted so we can recognize God’s resurrection in all the places it occurs? As we journey into Eastertide, will we continue to seek the miracle of God’s newness? In what ways will you continue to look for Jesus in the world?[6] In the everyday?  In what ways will you look for Jesus in your life?

Mary found no death in the tomb.  After she could see through her grief, she found life.  "I have seen the Lord."  The Easter story begins with tears and ends with proclamation.  Having encountered Jesus, Mary runs to tell her friends the news.  “I have seen the Lord!” She doesn’t hesitate to bear witness to what she has seen and heard — even though the context into which she brings her good news is rife with anxiety, exhaustion, trauma, and disbelief.[7] 

We know from the other Gospel accounts that the disciples don’t believe Mary right away.  But she knows what she has seen, and she doesn't allow other people’s doubt, cynicism, and incomprehension to blunt her  proclamation.  She insists on resurrection because resurrection is so good, it’s so essential, so lifesaving, so true.  She knows that the world needs to hear it, so she says it boldly, bravely, joyfully.  Without apology.[8] “I have seen the Lord!”

 Friends, the world still needs to hear it.   The world still needs to know that there is resurrection.  That death is not the end.  The world needs to  know that on that Easter morning, there was no death in the tomb. They need to  know who Jesus is and what he did for each and every one of us.  Especially now, as Death breathes down our necks, the future feels precarious, and all of our worst fears run wild.  The grave is empty, this sorrow is not forever, and the same Jesus who conquered death is still here, with us and among us.[9] 

So.  Who are you looking for?  Where have you seen the Lord?  What is your proclamation?  Who will you tell?  Christ the Lord is Risen!  He is Risen Indeed!  Amen.



[1] Sanctified Art.  Easter Sunday 2023.  Commentary.  Rev. Danielle Shroyer.
[2] Sanctified Art.  Easter Sunday 2023.  Commentary.  Rev. Danielle Shroyer
[3] Sanctified Art.  Easter Sunday 2023.  Commentary.  Rev. Danielle Shroyer
[4] https://www.journeywithjesus.net/essays/2595-risen.  Debi Thomas.  Risen.  April 20, 2023.
[5] https://www.journeywithjesus.net/essays/2595-risen.  Debi Thomas.  Risen.  April 20, 2023.
[6] Sanctified Art.  Easter Sunday 2023.  Theme Connection. Rev. Lisle Gwynn Garrity
[7] https://www.journeywithjesus.net/essays/2595-risen.  Debi Thomas.  Risen.  April 20, 2023.
[8] https://www.journeywithjesus.net/essays/2595-risen.  Debi Thomas.  Risen.  April 20, 2023.
[9] https://www.journeywithjesus.net/essays/2595-risen.  Debi Thomas.  Risen.  April 20, 2023.

Sunday, April 2, 2023

Where Are You Headed?

Rev. Debbie Cato
Matthew 21:1-11
Fairfield Community Church
April 2 , 2023 

Holy God, Sometimes it’s hard to hear you over the hosannas. Sometimes it’s hard to hear you over the noise of traffic on streets. Sometimes it’s hard to hear you over our racing thoughts, our mental to-do lists, or our desire to fit in. Sometimes it is hard to hear you in this noisy world. So just as you stopped traffic in Jerusalem, stop traffic here. Pause the rush. Open the gates. Dwell among us, until your Word is all we can hear. We are listening. We are laying down our cloaks. Amen.

 

Where Are You Headed?

 

Lisle Gwynn Garrity, the artist who did the painting on the front of our bulletin, says that in their book, The Last Week, theologians Marcus Borg and John Crossman allege that there were actually two parades occurring simultaneously in Jerusalem on this day. From the east, Jesus entered Jerusalem on a donkey. From the west, the Roman governor, Pontius Pilate, entered with an imperial guard. They write: “Jesus’ procession proclaimed the kingdom of God; Pilate’s proclaimed the power of the empire. The two processions express the main conflict of the week that leads to Jesus’ crucifixion.”[1]

Pilate enters with a pompous display of armor, accompanied by soldiers. For him, power is displayed by superiority, elitism, and weaponry. Later in the week, he will use his power to satisfy the crowds willing Jesus to be crucified, despite not finding any offense to justify it. He uses his power for violence, to satisfy the status quo.

 Jesus enters the city on a donkey with her young colt in tow. He wears no armor, only soft linens. In Jesus’ processional, members of the crowd lay down their coats as a display of humility and honor. Jesus expresses power through a posture of vulnerability, through caring for those who desperately need love.

Jesus must decide whether to go to Jerusalem, where he would be rejected and killed, or to continue his ministry elsewhere and live. In a sermon Howard Thurman preached in 1962, Thurman explains the crossroad faced by Jesus as a dilemma, because this moment reflects the "agony" of any dilemma in that one must choose either between competing good or competing evil. Jesus knew going to Jerusalem would mean meeting his fate. If he did not go, it would mean quieting the revelation of God within him. Going to Jerusalem may mean taking a stand and being bitterly judged and grossly misinterpreted.  In the choice Jesus makes to go to Jerusalem, Thurman recognizes the crowning example of faith to trust God and follow His divine will.[2] 

Jesus entered Jerusalem with an agenda — a dangerous one. He and his disciples chose to confront the Roman Empire during the festival of Passover. In his book Jesus and the Powers: Conflict, Covenant, and the Hope of the Poor, Richard Horsley highlights how the potential for the Passover celebration to turn into an uprising was not lost on the Roman authorities. Throngs of oppressed and indignant people, gathering for a festival commemorating the Israelites’ liberation from the bondage of foreign oppressors, could quickly spark and spread an angry protest. Extra troops were stationed in Jerusalem during Passover, posted atop the porticoes of the Temple, they demonstrated a show of power meant to control and intimidate.[3]

This tension in our Palm Sunday narrative is often downplayed; Jesus is portrayed as heading to Jerusalem as a Passover pilgrim. But it would have been rare for a Galilean like Jesus to embark on the multiple-day journey to Jerusalem for the Passover. He only would have gone for a special reason, to fulfill the traditional role of a prophet called to confront the rulers and the ruling institutions.

If you continue to read in Matthew, you will see that the first thing Jesus does after arriving in Jerusalem is go to the temple. He drives out all the  people who were selling and buying in the temple and he overturned the tables of the money changers and the seats of those who sold doves. Jesus makes a scene.  He makes the business people who used the temple, God’s holy place of worship, to make money, really mad.  This was not what the temple was intended for and Jesus wasted no time to set things right.

Then Jesus proceeds to heal the lame and the blind inside the temple and in the process, he upset the chief priests and scribes.  It’s as if Jesus is putting up a banner, “The Messiah has arrived in Jerusalem”. 

So while we celebrate Palm Sunday by waving our Palm Branches and marching around the Sanctuary, we have to recognize that Jesus’ triumphant entry was much more than just his entrance into Jerusalem.  It was his continued attack on the things that were wrong with the established religion and culture of his time.  It was his continued ministry of love and compassion toward those needing the touch of God.  It was his continued presence of vulnerability and humbleness.  Yet Jesus was fearless when it came to doing and saying what was right, even when it involved ruffling the feathers of those in authority and risking his own well-being.

And while we celebrate Palm Sunday by waving our Palm Branches and marching around the Sanctuary, there are questions we must ask ourselves.  Which parade would you follow?  Jesus’ humble parade riding on a donkey as he enters Jerusalem or Pilate’s as he enters with a pompous display of armor, accompanied by soldiers. Would you risk your well-being for the principles that are important to Jesus or would you feel most comfortable protected by the armor and weaponry of Pilate?  What principles that were important for Jesus, do you need to risk standing up for today?

 Which parade you would join in Jerusalem has a lot to say about your definition of power. It defines which leader you will follow.  Jesus’ journey to the cross should always catch us off guard. As dismayed as the disciples, we ask, “Jesus, are you really headed this way, straight to your death?” Many of our weekly questions throughout the season so far should  have helped us prepare spiritually for Holy Week. Now we examine if our beliefs have changed our behaviors. Has your path changed?  In the midst of opposing forces, which way will you go?[4]  Where are you headed?  Are you headed where you intend to go?  

I'd like to end by sharing a poem.

PALM / PASSION SUNDAY

seeking: Where are you headed?

where are you headed?

 

We are trains on a track,

moving through life at warp speed.

Please keep all arms and legs

inside the moving vehicle

at all times.

 

The years pass like a flipbook,

faster than we can absorb,

but the train does not stop.

We press our faces to the windows

to try and get a good view

and we ask each each other,

Where are you headed?

And there on the train

we decide—

 

we want to head toward

the promised day.

We want to head toward crowded tables

and long, healthy lives.

We want to move in the direction of joyful children,

and hopeful communities.

We want to move closer to God

with every mile of track,

and that does not happen by accident.

 

So it’s time to ask,

Where are you headed,

and who’s driving that train?


written by: rev. sarah speed | sanctifiedart.org |

Amen.



[1] Sanctified Art.  Palm Sunday.  power play by Lisle Gwynn Garrity Inspired by Matthew 21:1-11 Silk painting with digital drawing and collage.  Artist’s Interpretation.
[2]At The Crossroad, 1962 September 15” by Howard Thurman. Published by The Howard Thurman Digital Archive. Emory: Candler School of Theology. thurman.pitts.emory.edu/items/show/33
[3] Presbyterian Outlook.  Looking Into the Lectionary.  Teri McDowell-Ott.  April 2, 2023.
[4] Sanctified Art. Palm Sunday.  Theme Connections. Sanctified Art Creative Team.