At the Doorway
Passion Sunday A-17
Immanuel Lutheran, Chicago
“Some said he was John the Baptist, others thought he was Elijah, still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.” (Matthew 16:14) Peter and a growing circle of followers called him the Messiah.
They threw they their cloaks on the ground and their voices into the air. They cut palm branches and spread them on the road. They understood they were something new and rarely seen before—a radically egalitarian misfit band of Galileans, Samaritans, Judeans, and Assyrians. They were fishermen, tax collectors, widows, slaves, and women of the street, panhandlers, the chronically ill and mentally unstable. Together they paraded behind the Son of David from the Mount of Olives and through the Kidron Valley as he rode into the walled city of Jerusalem on a humble donkey from the East to reclaim Jerusalem for all Israel. While, that very same day Pilate and his army, displayed their overwhelming military power to suppress any unrest that should arise during the Passover, rode into Jerusalem from the West.
Like us the merry band of Jesus followers had many different reasons for joining the parade. Like us, and countless generations of pilgrims who with their bodies and shuffling feet have added to their number through 2,000 years, they were filled with hope and expectation at what was about to happen. But not one of them could have predicted what actually did happen.
They thought Jesus might restore the kingdom of David and throw the Roman invaders out. They thought he might ordain from the royal throne which of them would rule on his left and at his right. They thought he might be the beginning of the end of the world. At best, they had it partly right.
We palm and passion pilgrims today know more than our early ancestor in Christ because we have heard the gospels. We know where this story leads. We have read through the twists and turns, the cliffhangers and the shocking ending.
Yet, we like them, have arrived upon the threshold of holy week and still wonder what comes next for us. Not unlike Jesus’ first followers, I’m pretty sure that some or most of what we think we know about God and Jesus going into this week will not fit or even be all that helpful to interpret our experience of what God is doing now. Like them, we must be ready to step into the uncertainty and mystery that always comes with love, compassion, justice and grace as it is being lived now in relationships that require we must risk ourselves, body, mind, and soul to another and to all creation. Perhaps it is a timeless truth that some of our time honored traditions and theological concepts will not survive this encounter.
Each Sunday before worship, the pastors and ministers, and often the lectors, ushers, altar guild members, the Cantor and the choir talk through the day’s service so that each person knows how they fit into the whole. Then after talking it through we walk it through. You’ve seen us—or you’ve done it yourself. The cross, torches, ministers, pastors, lectors, ushers, and anyone else involved in worship literally walk through the service moving through the church from the back to the front. They stand where they’re going to stand. They read aloud what they are about to read. We must experience with our bodies what we trying to grasp with our minds before we truly learn something for ourselves.
Holy week, is when we talk through and walk through the Christian gospel so we might be changed, so that our minds may be opened, so that our hearts may grasp a little bit of what God is doing now in our lives and in the world. Every Sunday, but especially Holy week, is an opportunity to talk through and then to walk through the meaning and message of the gift of God’s grace dwelling deep within you proclaiming that you and all creation have been created in the image God and it is good, it is good, it is very, very good. (Genesis 1:31)
Today, more than most Sundays, is the talk through. We will read the entire passion according to Matthew. Yet, today we have also begun the walk-through. We enter into the mystery of this holy week following behind Jesus and our ancestors in Christ. This week symbols, rituals, stories, songs, and prayers that speak to us of the living God will surround us. We will get up from our chairs and act out this gospel at the table and the font and through profound vulnerable gestures like foot washing or venerating the cross. This is the week that gives rhythm to the entire year.
Finally, let me say one more thing about this week that comes more from neuroscience than the bible, although our bible comprehends it. That is there are two main pathways to transformation. One pathway to wisdom we all know comes through pain, grief, and even tragedy. God who is always with us is with us in our suffering. Our brain works like Velcro to grab onto the lessons learned through pain. Apparently our brains operate more like Teflon in the second instance where we can be transformed to grasp new and lasting insights that come through the appreciation of beauty, praise, generosity, thanks, and happiness. These things can change us too –but we must ponder on them, savor, and meditate on them for at least 15 seconds. When something moves or strikes you with beauty this week, remember to linger on it long enough for it to sink in.
His hour has begun. Our time has come. Let us enter with joy into contemplation of the mighty acts of grace whereby God has given life and abundance to us all. “For in him we live and move and have our being.” (Acts 17:28) Where can we go away from God? Or, where can we flee from God’s presence? (Psalm 139:7) We jump into the depths of mystery of God’s love. Let ourselves be carried on the wings of the Holy Spirit to some new place, some new way of living with one another, with strangers, and with God that is at least a little better than the kind of community and togetherness we already know, to a place and life beyond our imagining within the living sanctuary of our life in God through Christ Jesus. Amen.