From Palms to Passion- Wendy McCormick

Palm/Passion Sunday

March 24, 2024

I grew up in the church, so for me Palm Sunday is as much a part of my rhythm of holidays as Halloween or the 4th of July. And it has always been my favorite. The palms, the music, the story . . . I’ve always loved it. It’s a story that includes children and often a service that includes children so maybe that’s why it took root with me from childhood. And I once had the opportunity to visit Israel and Palestine and to wind down the steep hill believed to be the path Jesus took as he entered the city of Jerusalem that day.  That experience only made it more special.

Needless to say, I’ve done Palm Sunday and Holy Week more than a few times, and the story is very familiar. I imagine that is true for many of you too.

And yet every year it takes my breath away how quickly it all happens – from cheering, adoring crowds, to I’ll never betray you to I don’t know who you’re talking about, to I never met the guy. From Hosanna to Crucify him. In a matter of days.

We’ve probably all had some kind of experience with a fair weather friend, someone who’s with you until things get complicated or difficult and then they suddenly have other commitments or forget to check their messages.

Maybe this was a little like that. People who are all in when it feels like a fun football rally and fade away when there’s a commitment form to sign on the way out.

As the decades and the centuries passed, different theologies have developed to explain it all – the deeper meaning of the death of Jesus. And that’s important. Our faith and how we live our lives is surely rooted in the meaning we assign to all the events of Holy Week, but especially to that brutal death. Some understand it as a blood sacrifice demanded as payment to God. Others understand it as God’s love willing to go all the way for the cause of righteousness. The ultimate in nonviolent resistance.

But before we parse meaning, we observe this week first by remembering and recounting what happened. What we know of the events themselves.

And the fact is it was political. Very political. Jesus was political. Too political for some. And not political enough for others.  In our culture of ‘don’t talk about religion or politics, and certainly don’t talk about them together,’ it can be hard to understand that far away time and place. But it’s important that we do.

Generations of faithful Jews had waited expectantly for the promised Messiah and some of them believed that Messiah had come in Jesus. But the Messiah they expected and hoped for was a political and military leader who would first of all deliver them from the oppressive rule of the Roman empire. Some of Jesus’ enthusiastic supporters were watching and following in expectation of that moment. It’s likely that some of them thought of Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem with a hero’s welcome was the beginning of a revolution, an overthrow of things as they were. And that would have been welcome by many, many people. Life under Roman occupation was no picnic. But it quickly became clear that Jesus wasn’t going to deliver on that. We might say that for those people Jesus was not political enough.

But for many others --- those who charged him with a crime, found him guilty and sentenced him to public execution – and those who dissociated themselves from him lest they be caught up in the same  mess, Jesus was clearly too political, way too political. He was drawing way too big a following of people who were unhappy with the status quo, people who were oppressed and marginalized by the great Roman empire, people who with just the right charismatic leader might rise up, revolt, stage an overthrow. And no repressive regime, then or now, can allow that.

And so he had to go. When we are too quick to gloss over the events of this Holy Week, too quick to spiritualize the meaning of Jesus’ execution, we miss this. As the great Professor George Edwards at Louisville Presbyterian Seminary liked to say in his booming southern accent: “Why do you think they killed the man? Because he talked about LOVE?”

In the words of our Brief Statement of Faith, Jesus was “unjustly condemned for blasphemy and sedition.” He was clearly understood by the powers that be, religious and political, as a troublemaker, as a rabble-rouser, as someone likely to cause an uprising. And he had to be stopped.

Of course, the would-be uprising did not happen. Not only was Jesus’ intention not what the authorities thought, but also the followers fell away. They deserted. This is the turning point that always takes my breath away. Every single time.

A facetious example from our own more comfortable time: a friend of mine was canvassing for a presidential candidate she supported. “Oh, we’re for him,” a woman assured her enthusiastically. “We’re definitely for him.” Great, my friend responded. Are you registered to vote? “Oh, we don’t vote,” the woman replied matter of factly, “but don’t worry, we are definitely for him”

In Jesus’ time perhaps it was, “we are all for Jesus and what he is about, he’s great, he’s just what we need religiously and politically --- but we don’t get involved. We don’t believe in politics. We think everyone should keep their opinions to themselves.”

At first that wasn’t everyone. There were the enthusiastic followers who loved Jesus and intended to be with him no matter what. Until things began to unfold.

Think about it: What might happen to someone who is associated with a movement that is about to be crushed by a repressive regime? If they were rounding up Jesus, who else might they be rounding up? Perhaps they thought:  How much good can we do in prison? How much good can we do if we’re dead? The reasoning makes sense. It’s easy to shake my head at the sleeping disciples or Peter’s denial, but I hardly think I would have gotten even that involved.

Every year around the Martin Luther King, Jr., holiday, there are essays and posts that question the near universal support for King 50+ years after his death. These pieces point out that most people of goodwill are certain that we would have been right there with King right up to the end. The truth is, these writers politely point out, if we’re not taking risky and unpopular stands now, we probably would not have been then. Glorifying King – or Jesus – may be a good thing. But cheering and glorifying from a distance – including the distance of decades or centuries – is not the same as going the actual distance.

If we’re honest, few of us would have been right there, at least not for long, especially when the cost began to rise – the cost in reputation, in people labelling you with those nasty phrases we use today for people whose views we don’t like. The cost in time and even livelihood. Think of those law students who had offers rescinded for taking political stands on campus. Or costs in relationships with family or good friends who just don’t agree and care more than anything else about – quote-unquote – keeping the peace.

I like to think that I would be there for Jesus, but if I’m honest I really don’t know. I have a comfortable life. I want people to like me. I can always send a financial donation . . . .

Of course, there are no answers here. I don’t have any advice. In a few minutes, we are going to hear the story again. It’s an invitation to each of us to listen and to ponder not just where in the story we might have been then but more importantly where in the story we are now? Were you there when they crucified my Lord? Were we? Are we? The hour is upon us.