A Week of Decisions

Palm Sunday of the Passion of the Lord

Before the advent of sophisticated computer games, in a much simpler world, ordinary objects like sticks and stones, house furniture and flowers could be transformed into the most ingenious objects of play and entertainment. One simple single player game served as a kind of divination as to whether someone who is the object of our affection is willing to return the affection. As you pluck the petals of the flower, you alternately speak the following phrases with each petal representing one or the other proposition: “she loves me” or “she loves me not.”

If you had paid attention to today’s reading, you would be wondering how the crowds’ love-hate relationship with the Lord will eventually play out - will they love Him or love Him not? Today’s liturgy, especially the first gospel before our procession and the passion reading we’ve just heard, seems to give us an impression of the crowds that is bipolar. When it comes to Jesus - you will either love Him to bits or hate Him to the core. Sometimes, both at the same time and by the same folks.

The crowd described in the gospel at the start of the procession and the one that gathers before Pilate during our Lord’s trial could very well have been made up of the same cohort. The same jubilant fan club that welcomed the Lord as a homecoming hero at the start of the story adds their blood thirsty voices to the lynching mob at the end. There is no way of avoiding the discomfort that comes with the whiplash of hearing shouts of “hosanna” one minute and “crucify him” the next. This day, like the week it begins, is all about the extremes.

What could have transformed an excited jubilant welcoming committee into a bloodthirsty lynch mob? They had expected a Messianic king who will lead them in rebellion against the Roman Empire but instead Jesus proved to be a major disappointment since He refused to rally His supporters in open rebellion. For that they had turned Him over to the very authorities whom they despised. If our Lord was not willing to kill the oppressors, He will be left to die in their hands.

How the Roman authorities got involved would also require a bit of explanation. The Roman prefect of Judea, Pontius Pilate, would travel to Jerusalem from his palace on the coast at Caesarea. He was there for a specific reason. It was the feast of Passover, one of the three major pilgrimage festivals which meant that Jerusalem’s population would have swelled from its usual 50,000 to many times its normal size. He came to be where the action is and to make sure the Jews didn’t start making any trouble. Passover was significant because it commemorates the Jews’ deliverance from Egypt. The Passover Seder commemorates the bitterness of slavery under an oppressive regime and a sweet taste of freedom from a reign of terror – and you can see why that made the Romans nervous. That’s why Pontius Pilate had to come to Jerusalem in all of his imperial majesty, to remind the Jewish pilgrims that Rome was in charge.

In a city rife with trouble and rebellion, our Lord was caught in the crosshairs. He refused to bend to the crowds who demanded that He be a king of their design. Neither would He admit to Pontius Pilate that it was all a mistake. For this, He willingly accepted the second parade. This time there will not be admirers and supporters lining the path to wave Him on with expectant jubilation but a cruel angry mob mocking His passage and ushering Him to His humiliating death. Though the first parade seems to befit a king and the second a criminal, it was actually the second parade which highlights our Lord’s true glory and majesty. Here is a King who will not just inspire His subjects to die for Him. Here is a King who would willingly die for His people, even those who had rejected Him.

Just as you can’t have the resurrection on Easter without the cross on Good Friday, you can’t fully experience the Passion narrative without the rest of Holy Week. We need the story of the Palm Sunday parade that welcomed a King. But we also need to hear the parade to the place of execution, the way of the cross undertaken by a man condemned to suffer on our behalf. This is the king we are called to follow—humble, riding on a donkey, calling those who would follow Him to embrace the way of sacrifice, suffering, and servanthood. His call is not to a throne, but to a cross. Jesus isn’t waiting around for us to ask Him into our lives—He’s calling us to be in His life, to walk His way, to join His march to the cross.

When we arrive at the cross, will we be like the crowds who would readily shout “we love you” when things are going our way but immediately turn our backs on Him when He fails to meet our expectations and declare with disdain: “we love you not”?

This is a week of decisions. This is a week of extremes: of highs and lows; of joys and sorrows, love and hate but it only works if we are willing to accept it all. You need to walk in the way of our Lord's suffering and live in the tension of His judgment, so that you can properly share the joy of His resurrection.