Palms and Passion

Some reflective resources for Palm Sunday

Hold on to the Hosannas

Let’s stay with the Hosannas for a while

Let’s let them keep on ringing in our ears

Hosanna!

Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord

Instead of rushing on to hear the cries

that came later in the week

Let’s stay with the Hosannas

Maybe once we’ve heard those

in a new way

will we be ready

to make the rest of the journey

A journey that was hastened

and given new purpose

by those Hosannas

For those Hosannas were not

simply the innocent cries

of palm branch waving children

Those Hosannas were the war cries of adults

tired of the oppression

of occupying forces

Those hosannas

were the hopeful cries

of a nation seeking liberation.

Those Hosannas

were an investment of hope

in one they thought would deliver.

Those Hosannas

that we have sanitised  over the years

rang out in clear insurrection

sealing the fate

of one who rode on a donkey.

so, let’s stay with the Hosannas

Let’s wrest them from the lips of children

and allow them to ring in our ears

and spew from our mouths

as a call to action

a call to justice

a call to love.

Let’s stay with the Hosannas

even as we journey

with the Christ

who carried those Hosannas

all the way to the cross

and ensured their fulfilment

as the justice and love of God.

Let’s stay with the Hosannas.

The weeks have rolled on

The weeks have rolled on

those austere, bleak weeks

of our Lenten observance.

We’ve journeyed with Jesus through the wilderness

felt the rub of sand on our feet as we traversed the desert

and again, as we emerged with him on the shore at Galilee.

We’ve marvelled at the things he did

and cringed at the things he said

one moment proud to step out beside him

the next, embarrassed to know him.

He’s been wild, free, tormented and cursed

sometimes all at the same time.

Oh we’ve had laughs,

laughs that burst our guts as he burst the disciples’ nets,

We’ve had our party times with him too,

even through this season of penance

How could we not party when we saw him eating, drinking,

making merry?

So often there was a lightness in his step

a freshness that lifted us up

We’ve listened to his stories, marvelled at his miracles

Questioned our living

in the light of the way he showed us

And that’s all to the good.

But sometimes he got a bit heavy,

nudged us out of our comfort zones

challenged us to respond to his words

and not just passively listen,

goaded us to be different –

For the sake of the kingdom he said.

What kingdom is the question.

He’s said some tough things,

upset a lot of people

He’ll be lucky to survive with his life

never mind build a kingdom.

There’s definitely a change in the atmosphere now.

All the talk recently has been bizarre

Of death and darkness and destruction

But also talk of hope and newness.

The two simply don’t go together.

Still, the mood is changing

It looks like we’re going to have the party of all parties

And then, who knows?

Becoming like children

We imagine Jesus riding into Jerusalem

surrounded by palm branch waving children

surrounded by exuberance

and infectious laughter

shouts of greeting

cajoling and cheering.

There is a freshness in the welcome of children

a candour that is not subdued

or diminished

but comes from the heart.

bringing warmth, promoting acceptance

with is no expectation of return

but simply a desire

to spread the love.

We imagine those greetings containing familiarity

arising not out of disrespect

but out of the ability

to naturally honour and cherish

every relationship

deeming all as worthy of nurture

and investment.

We imagine Jesus surrounded by children.

The adults would have been much too reserved,

too inhibited

to be so vulgar

in their welcome.

Palm branch waving

and jacket tossing

are not for sophisticated grown ups.

We leave that nonsense to the children.

And most of the time that’s OK.

Most of the time, we are quite relieved

to keep our feelings to ourselves

to remain tight lipped

cool and distant.

But, on occasion,

wouldn’t it be great

just to throw caution to the wind

and let our exuberance escape

even just for a little while?

And what better day than this fools day

when we celebrate the absurdity

of a king riding a donkey

into Jerusalem.

Palm Sunday – a day to become like children.

What of the children

What of those children lining the streets.

Caught up in the adults’ excitement.

A festival or feast day for them.

A family day out.

With a special picnic.

For once they could be noisy in the presence of adults.

Because the adults were being noisy too.

For once they weren’t being told to simmer down.

They’d probably rarely seen adults so uninhibited.

Letting their hair down.

Throwing their heads back in unbridled mirth. The children had known from the beginning this Jesus was a hero.

It was great that the adults had finally caught on.

All those times they’d been in trouble for staying out beyond supper because they’d

followed Jesus around.

Now maybe their folks would finally understand.

There was just something about this guy.

But then Sunday was over.

And the week stretched ahead.

Things went quiet.

Eerily quiet.

There was something wrong.

It wasn’t just the anti-climax that often follows excitement.

This was an an unnatural quiet, a quiet that signaled something not good.

The adults were whispering again.

In little groups.

Closing up as soon as the children appeared.

They were used to adult’s secrets.

But there was something different about these secrets.

They felt bad.

And so the week dragged on.

It was almost a relief when the crowds gathered again.

Although it was ugly, at least it was a resolution of sorts.

And how ugly.

How could folk turn so quickly and so completely?

Is that what happens to adults?

They follow each other.

All good together.

And all bad together just as easily.

What happened to those partying folk?

Now they were yelling at the children, and yelling at each other.

And especially yelling at Jesus.

Crucify him.

Crucify him.

What had he done in a week to so turn their minds.

From hero worship.

To a blood thirsty rabble.

The children would never understand the vagaries of adult minds.

Fools Erand

It started with the search for a colt

a fools errand for the disciples

It ended with a parade

a clown's procession for the common people.

For Jesus used that colt

to laugh in the face of the authorities

taunting them

flexing his muscles of influence and popularity.

He really should have been keeping a low profile.

But, throwing caution to the wind,

he took himself into the city

and, enjoying, momentarily, the protection of the crowd

he pushed his enemies over the edge.

And he knew it.

He looked around, saw it was late, and left.

Late on so many levels.

Late in the day.

Late in the journey.

Too late for him.

His boats were now burned

and the salvaged timber already fashioned

into a cross.

A simple request: Find me a colt

set in motion

a whole series

of truths and dares

of arrest and trial

of betrayal

and denial.

His fate was sealed

and so was our redemption

as palms dissolve into passion.

A fool's errand indeed!

Did you know?

When you sent your disciples to borrow that colt, did you know? 

Did you know that, as you rode on its back, the crowds would line the streets to greet you? 

Did you know the children would wave branches? 

You said that, if the crowds hadn’t shouted their welcome, the stones along the way would have called out in praise? 

So what was it all about? 

Some giant ego trip? 

A display of your popularity? 

Or did you have in your mind all along that prophecy that said that the king would ride on a donkey? 

Was it a giant political statement? 

A king without all the paraphernalia?

Or were you just plain stupid? 

I mean it couldn’t have escaped your notice that you’d really ticked off the authorities. 

Doing the kinds of things you did. 

Healing on the sabbath, encouraging folk to question their rulers. 

Even upsetting the economy by questioning their taxes. 

Why, if you had to be in the city - why didn’t you just skulk in quietly? 

Why the entourage? 

What part of - “they’re out to get you” did you not understand? 

Or was it that you’d played their game long enough. 

Now it was time to get the inevitable over with. If you were going to die, then let’s get on with it.

And as those crowds greeted you like a hero, were you able to enjoy it? 

Were you able to bask in their praises and forget, just for a while, that by the end of the week those same voices would be baying for your blood - and those same hands, palms raised in welcome and salute, would become clenched fists, demanding your execution?

(Pause)

And don’t you know, Jesus, that we would never do that?

We would never sing your praises one minute and call for your demise the next.

Not us who gather week in week out, in our Sunday best, singing your praise, reading your word.

No fickleness in us.

None of that going with the flow, following the crowd, saving our own necks.

Not us.

While that crowd were gunning for you, we would have been defending you, challenging them.

We would have been just as vehement in our defence of you.

We would have put our heads above the parapet and stuck up for you.

We would!

We would!

Honest.

Well, Ok then, maybe we would have calmed our jets a bit.

I mean there would be no point in us all coming to a sad end.

It would be daft to follow you that far, stick our necks out so much that we lost them.

But we would at least have whispered “Leave him alone”.

Or, to be on the safe side, we would have kept quiet.

Stood in silence, while all around us, your fate was being sealed.

We would have stood our ground, quietly, as your execution papers were drawn up.

Ours would have been a silent protest.

That’s effective you know - standing quiet while there is raging all around us.

We would have stuck it out, quietly.

Don’t we make you proud.

Isn’t our loyalty and bravery just what you need?

Donkey Riding King

Following a donkey riding king

presents us with challenges

we may not have signed up for

The challenge of humility

Of taking our place up front

in the knowledge

that that is where we're called to be

not because we are God's gift.

but because of God's gift

Gods gift of love

about which we cannot be silent

Gods gift of love

that we have to model up front

Following a donkey riding king

presents us with challenges

we may not have signed up for

The challenge of subversion

Finding ways to quietly

and peacefully

subvert what others perceive

as necessary evils

so that justice can prevail.

Quiet subversion

that brings love to the fore.

Following a donkey riding king

presents us with challenges

we may not have signed up for

The challenge of humour

Finding humour 

even in our darkest moments

laughing with the God

who transforms

tears of sadness

or frustration

into belly laughs of joy

Following a donkey riding king

presents us with challenges

we may not have signed up for

The challenge of uncertainty

Following even though

we do not know

how or when it is going to end

Following even when we do know

how or when it is going to end

because in all the uncertainty

is the promise

that God's love will be enough

Following a donkey riding king

presents us with challenges

we may not have signed up for

The challenge of compassion

being so moved

as Jesus was

about the plight of the world

that we can do no other

than do whatever it takes

to make a difference

Following a donkey riding king

presents us with challenges

we may not have signed up for

The challenge of love

that makes us want to serve

And, in serving God and each other,

finding that love

really does change everything

and allows us

to meet all these challenges

head on

following our donkey riding king.

Who were these people?

The city was busy.

Teeming with Passover revellers.

Why did they all feel the need

to come and welcome Jesus?

We were hoping, for once, to keep a low profile.

Tired of attracting big crowds wherever we went with Jesus

we thought, at least, we’d have a quiet Passover

Thought everyone would be too busy

with their own family preparations

to take notice of ours.

And it was also time that

Jesus got out of the limelight

We could tell the authorities didn’t like it

they were getting really antsy

It wasn’t just Jesus

though he kept attracting unwelcome attention

but, all the people, it seemed

were getting pretty feisty

and the authorities were getting nervous

clamping down on the most minor infractions.

Definitely NOT the time to be processing into the city

even on a donkey!

It was only a matter of time

before a ban would be imposed

on public gatherings

and demonstrations

the kind that had been breaking out everywhere recently.

So we’d hoped to enter the city quietly

to keep below the radar.

But, before we got anywhere near,

we could hear the shouts of the crowd

not angry, insurrectionist shouts

but the shouts of revellers

out for a picnic.

Maybe they were hoping for more miracles

a healing or two

or to be fed some more of those amazing stories

Jesus seemed to

make up as he went along.

Whatever they came looking for

they were not disappointed

There was Jesus

seemingly innocuous

riding on a donkey

but the people saw it

as something different altogether.

They always seemed to read into everything Jesus did

Saw mockery, even subversion

to the political era of oppression.

Why was it Jesus they flocked to?

Why turn their attention on him.

surely that day, the people signed his death warrant

as surely as if they had shouted

Crucify him!

Undeserving

Matthew 20:1-16

The Labourers in the Vineyard

​“For the kingdom of heaven is like a landowner who went out early in the morning to hire labourers for his vineyard. After agreeing with the labourers for the usual daily wage, he sent them into his vineyard. When he went out about nine o’clock, he saw others standing idle in the marketplace; and he said to them, ‘You also go into the vineyard, and I will pay you whatever is right.’ So they went. When he went out again about noon and about three o’clock, he did the same. And about five o’clock he went out and found others standing around; and he said to them, ‘Why are you standing here idle all day?’ They said to him, ‘Because no one has hired us.’ He said to them, ‘You also go into the vineyard.’ When evening came, the owner of the vineyard said to his manager, ‘Call the labourers and give them their pay, beginning with the last and then going to the first.’ When those hired about five o’clock came, each of them received the usual daily wage. Now when the first came, they thought they would receive more; but each of them also received the usual daily wage. And when they received it, they grumbled against the landowner, saying, ‘These last worked only one hour, and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat.’ But he replied to one of them, ‘Friend, I am doing you no wrong; did you not agree with me for the usual daily wage? Take what belongs to you and go; I choose to give to this last the same as I give to you. Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or are you envious because I am generous?’ So the last will be first, and the first will be last.”

Live long and prosper.

Those immortal words with which Leonard Nimoy, much loved Mr Spock of StarTrek fame signed off on life: Live long and prosper.

Isn't that what most of us look for in life - a long and prosperous life?

A life filled with meaning.

The kind of life that huge swathes of our society today are denied.

So much of a person's value is equated with possession, with lifestyle, with occupation, with status.

And when so many in our communities struggle to find work, struggle to put food on the table,

as the need for food banks and homeless charities grows ever greater, that ability to live long and prosper is diminished.

In our gospel parable this morning, we find folk looking for some kind of meaning in life.

Looking to be chosen to work.

Looking for a fair days wage for a fair days work.

In Jesus' story, some folk were hired in the early morning and set to work.

Some were hired a bit later in the day.

And some later still.

But, when it was time to pay the labourers for their work, everyone received the same wage.

So those who had worked all day received the same as those who had only worked an hour.

Of course those who had put in more hours were outraged.

And that could have been avoided.

By all accounts, the landowner was affluent enough to give the workers he didn't hire in the early morning a handout. 

He chose, instead, to give them dignity - AND a living wage.

They were glad to be chosen.

And would have been happy with a proportionate wage.

But they got much more than they could have imagined.

They had the dignity of being employed and of being well rewarded.

We can celebrate their good fortune even as we are scandalised with those who worked a full day.

The trouble was not that those who worked a full day were cheated.

They got the reward they had been promised.

But, when they compared what they received with what others received, that's when it became a problem.

And that's something most of us do often.

Compare ourselves with others.

And, when we compare, we also judge.

We judge whether others are more or less deserving than us.

And though we might actually be doing OK.

Though we might actually be very fortunate.

When we compare ourselves to others, others whom we judge as being less deserving, yet who seem better off than us, we feel hard done by.

In Jesus' parable, those who'd worked all day in the vineyard decided that those who hadn't been there as long as they had didn't deserve to be paid the same as them - even though they got what they were due.

The workers who were brought to the vineyard early felt that being involved longer than others gave them more entitlement.

And they resented it when folk were brought to work in the vineyard later and received the same reward.

Does that sound familiar?

Does that sound like something that might happen in our church community?

Those who have worked here all their days receive the same reward as those who have just started.

God welcomes all.

God values all.

God promises all the same reward.

And so we can turn this parable into an allegory.

And work out where on the scale of the deserving we would place ourselves.

But, along with the story of Leonard Nimoy's death this weekend, another story was doing the rounds.

The story of a dress.

This dress.

What colour does the dress appear to you?

Who can see white and gold?

Who can see blue and black?

This bizarre story was filling up folks news feeds because folk could not agree on the colour.

And there were all sorts of arguments and explanations.

Here is another picture of the dress.

Apparently, because of the colours involved our eyes and brains process the image differently, and so we end up with conflicting images.

And so, two people, looking at the same image, see vastly different things.

We can view Jesus' parable this morning from vastly different perspectives.

From the perspective of the labourers, all of whom were treated equally, but some more equally than others.

 We might be the ones resenting those who came late.

Or we might be congratulating ourselves on having been well rewarded for little effort.

Or we can view this parable from the perspective of the landowner.

Who chose to be generous.

Who chose to give all the labourers the same reward, no matter how long they worked.

Who saw folk who needed to know that they were valued - every bit as much as others.

Who restored self esteem.

When we view it from the perspective of the landowner.

When we appreciate the generosity he showed, the dignity he gave and the right he had to make those choices.

It helps us to be less judgmental.

To be less outraged.

Looking at the parable from the landowners perspective takes us out of making comparisons.

And helps us appreciate the nature of grace.

The grace of one who is generous to all.

None of us are any more - or less - deserving than others.

God does not judge us by time served.

The grace of God is not something we've earned.

It is a gift that God gives, because God is God.

And it is in the nature of God to be generous.

Let's ask ourselves this morning:

Can we take our place at Christ's table, knowing ourselves all equally welcome?

And can we make space for others, those who have worked for God for some time, and those who have found their way here more recently?

Can we come to the table knowing that God values each of us.

And offers all of us unlimited grace, ours for the taking.

The kingdom of heaven is like...

May we all live long, prosper - and inspire others around us to do the same