Palm Sunday Homily 2006
This feast has long fascinated me
because of the range of emotions
that are evoked by the events we recall.
The account of Jesus' joyous, raucous entry into Jerusalem
is coupled with readings
from Isaiah, Philippians, and the passion in Mark's Gospel.
The shouts of "Hosanna to the Son of David!
Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!"
are juxtaposed with
"Crucify him! Crucify him!" and
"My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"
The account of Jesus' entry into Jerusalem is joyful,
filled with biblical imagery of long-held dreams now fulfilled.
Who are these folks along the path?
Are they the street people of the gospel?:
those who never get special places at table,
or invitations to nice banquets
or places of honor in temple and synagogue?
The young paralytic whose friends lowered him through the roof
is here from Capernaum.
Jairus and his daughter are there
as well as Sarah, the woman healed of the hemorrhage.
Bartimaeus, healed of his blindness, has traveled up from Jericho.
Jesus' mission has been to them.
These are the ones who are used to being last.
Finally, someone from God is here to tell them they are not forgotten,
indeed, they are loved by God, that God's reign includes them.
Jesus, the one who teaches and heals with authority,
has recognized them,
healed their afflictions and forgiven their sins.
Jesus himself is a Galilean, an outsider,
one of their own, raised up by God.
Those gathered along the road
anticipate the arrival of David's kingdom.
They see Jesus as linked to the glorious moment
when a messiah like David will come.
But when we come into this church
and listen to the readings from Isaiah, the Philippians hymn,
and the passion narrative
we can hear and feel an enormous reversal.
Jesus, the one with authority and power,
now becomes the one who suffers.
He is the servant of Isaiah,
the one who becomes a slave in the Philippians hymn.
He is conspired against, denied, betrayed, arrested, tried, convicted,
tortured, crucified and finally buried.
No other passion narrative
gives such a clear and compelling account of the humanity of Jesus.
In the Garden of Gethsemane Jesus asks that this cup might pass-
what person among us who has faced cancer or other major illness
or an extremely difficult decision, has not prayed this prayer?
We see a Jesus who is abandoned by almost everybody who loves him.
The symbolic figure here is the young man
who is wearing only a cloak and runs away naked,
leaving everything in order to get away from Jesus.
We can soften the opening words from psalm 22:
"My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?"
but I fear if we do so,
we lessen our understanding of Jesus' experience of abandonment
And we are less likely to understand our own
or others' experience of abandonment at times.
One of the names we give this day is "Passion Sunday."
The word passion has roots in words meaning "suffering"
and "being acted upon."
There are many people who must suffer
or have something harmful done to them; they have no choice.
We suffer old age, sickness, or physical diminishment.
We also suffer from the pressures of economic and social systems.
Often we cannot change these circumstances.
We identify with Jesus,
receiving strength from his own endurance through his passion.
The word "passion" also suggests strong emotions, especially love.
Jesus faces his own fears
and sticks to an awful path to suffering and death.
He is a passionate lover of God and humankind
and this passion energizes and shapes his determination
to initiate and advance the reign of his Father.
Neither Pilate nor Caiaphas can prevent Jesus from completing his task for us,
even if it means suffering and death.
Remembering these events confronts us with the terrible realities
of misunderstanding, injustice, and innocent suffering.
We are also reminded that in the midst of awful suffering
God does astonishing, wonderful things.
Abbot John Klassen, OSB
April 9, 2006
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