Here we stand at the entrance to Holy Week, on a Sunday which doesn’t even seem to know what it should be called! Palm Sunday? Passion Sunday? Officially it’s “Palm Sunday of the Lord’s Passion” – not sure that helps a lot really.
There is a sense of waiting, of confusion, of fear, of hope, which is found in this Sunday. It contains both Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem and the first of the readings of His passion that we have during this week.
Perhaps we feel that mix of emotions more strongly at this time: waiting, confusion, fear, hope, or maybe one is forcing out all the others. We know in our heads, we have learned over the years of our practice, that we have to pass through the valley of death, the dark paths of Holy Week, and that beyond there is resurrection, redemption, light and joy. But sometimes we can make that journey with more confidence and hope, and sometimes we may feel overwhelmed.
We will have time during this week to reflect more on the path Jesus took, and the path on which he invites us to join Him.
For now I find myself reflecting more on the start of the journey, that moment of triumph, crowds singing, waving palms, everything is upbeat. Can we wait in the sunlight, with the singing, and the good feelings, just for a little while before we carry on…
But then I wonder. Is this really a moment of triumph, a great success when the crowds turn out to support Jesus in their enthusiasm for all the good things he has done?
Of course we know the enthusiasm is short lived and, as so often, the mood of a crowd can switch. But I think there may be a problem in seeing this as a triumph, even a temporary one.
What are the crowds celebrating? They have found their messiah, their king, the new leader of Israel. But this is exactly what Jesus had been warning against all along – their view of the messiah was all wrong, his kingdom was not what they understood a kingdom to be (as he spelt out to Pilate again a little later), the salvation he preached, that came from the Father, was not a matter of success as the world sees it.
So why does Jesus go along with all this? In fact, more than that, he enables and encourages it – after all, he had made arrangements beforehand for the donkey! He knew what was going to happen, how the crowd would react at that moment, at the same time as he knew what was coming just a little later, and how he was going to suffer.
Why didn’t he push back and say (again): no you’ve got it wrong, that isn’t how it is, that isn’t what I am, that isn’t the kingdom the Father wishes for you?
In Luke’s account, Jesus is actually invited to pull back and refuses to do so. “Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to him, “Teacher, rebuke your disciples.” He said in reply, “I tell you, if they keep silent, the stones will cry out!”
I don’t think Jesus is saying he can’t, rather that he won’t. He accepts that the people need this moment of excitement. He knows it is a false or misplaced excitement. But, as in everything, he is there to serve. At this moment his service is to support them in their enthusiasm, even if that might seem like a cruel irony for someone who knows what is coming next.
Jesus is always there for us, he will support us even when we are tearing down the wrong path, he guides us gently, he knows we have to get there in our own way.
No, the entry into Jerusalem wasn’t Jesus’ great moment of triumph – that moment came in the silence and solitude of a Sunday morning, when no one was looking. But it was something that he needed to do for those around him. He is always with us, whatever confusion we may be in, whether we know it or not, whether we understand what we are doing or not. He is always with us.