FATHER FORGIVE THEM
A sermon for Palm Sunday
As
we swiftly move from excited shouts of “Hosanna!” to angry cries of
“Crucify him!” we encounter a story filled with characters overwhelmed
by events of life and fear of death. A risky story, it abounds
with scapegoats, offering up those we can readily scorn as we seek to
justify ourselves. But the story must be told because it also
offers us an opportunity to choose to “ walk in the way of his
suffering so we might share in his resurrection.” Like the
characters we hear today, most of us stumble through life, looking for
the right path but turning aside at the most inopportune times.
Father forgive us; for we do not know what we are doing.
I was privileged on a couple of occasions to hear Corrie ten Boom,
survivor of Nazi interment and author of The Hiding Place. Miss
ten Boom did needlework and on this particular Sunday, as the service
moved toward the homily, she sat , listening, singing, and
sewing. When she rose to speak she brought the piece on which she
was working to the pulpit and held it up for all to see. Even
from the distance of the congregation, it was easy to see the bright
colors and ornate pattern. Then she turned it over and so we
could see the backside – the seeming jumble of loose and hanging
threads. I still remember the gleam in her eye as she pointed out
that our lives are like those threads, lived on the “back side” where
things seem fragmented, like loose tatters, but God sees from the
front, where everything falls into place and forms a colorful and
meaningful pattern. Despite our best attempts at analysis and
understanding, in our incompleteness, our humanity, we continually fail
to fully grasp the consequences of our decisions and our actions.
Father forgive us; for we do not know what we are doing.
It is easy to wave palm branches and shout Hosanna on Sunday when Jesus
rides into town on the colt. Here is a king, fulfilling the
prophecy in Zechariah 9:9: a “king comes to you, righteous and having
salvation, gentle and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a
donkey.” The donkey is not noted for speed nor might so much as
its ability to negotiate hard places, its persistence, and its
resilience. I have ridden a donkey through rough terrain
searching for sheep and goats lost in thorny brush and shallow, sticky
mudflats, places where a horse would be unable to maneuver.
Jesus comes riding on a donkey signifying peace rather than storming in
on a mighty steed prepared for battle. And though people
celebrate his arrival after this long journey from Galilee to
Jerusalem, there is an undercurrent of uncertainty in the celebration.
How many of the folks in that crowd, shouting their "Hosannas", would
have thought they would be shouting "Crucify him!" before the week was
out? Would you? And what is perhaps more striking is that
"Crucify!" was really not meant by the crowd for evil but rather for
good -– for stability; to keep the peace!
Father forgive us; for we do not know what we are doing.
Think about the characters whose voices resound in the reading –- and
those whose absence casts a silent shadow over the events. Listen
for echoes of ourselves in their words, their thoughts, their deeds.
Judas no doubt struggled with his role among the disciples. He
seems no more uncertain of Jesus’ mission than the rest and from all
indications, he was trying to force an issue, to get Jesus to do what
he thought was best. Do we also betray Jesus by forcing our
agendas on his purpose; by shaping our religion to reflect our own
social needs and wishes while condemning those who see differently, act
differently, are different, than ourselves?
Then there is Peter who expressed with such confidence that, while
others might abandon or turn against their master, their teacher, their
friend, he would not. Yet Peter was the first to fulfill the
prophecy of denial by a close friend. Would you or I have denied
Jesus when challenged by onlookers in the night? Do you or I deny
Jesus? Do we turn on back when we feel threatened for embracing
unpopular causes, outcast people?
Pilate found no fault in him and condemned him to die anyway. His
first duty was to preserve the peace and if the death of Jesus would
help that along, so be it. After all, he tried to release him
didn't he? How often are we willing to compromise just to keep a
semblance of peace?
There was the high priest who correctly prophesied that the death of
one could mean life and security -– or at least give an illusion of it
–- for the many. Really, Jesus' teachings and his willingness to
open the way to life to anyone -– his absolute inclusiveness -- felt
like a threat to all that was orthodox in their teaching. And
with all the political unrest and financial stress in the nation, it
was important to defend the faith. Are we so threatened by our
own insecurities that we can not embrace those whose ideas differ from
our own?
Herod could brush off any guilt -– outside his jurisdiction -– thank you, Jesus!
And what of the one who fashioned the cross from roughly hewn lumber -–
surely he knew its purpose. But then, he wouldn't actually be the
one to drive the nails -– not his worry about how the cross might be
used. Surely those with power to judge for life or death would
never condemn an innocent man! Are we willing to excuse our own
responsibilities by naively deferring to others?
The list goes on. For 2,000 years, right down to 2010, the
question each of us must face is, "Which side am I on?" Which
side do we choose? As we shout our Hosannas, does "Crucify!" also
rise up from a dark place within? Will we dare to choose; to go
beyond knowledge and reason; to listen to the Spirit of God?
Father forgive us; for we do not know what we are doing.
So let the journey begin. Listen for the echoes of death and life
as we remember these stories throughout Holy Week. I invite you
to examine thoughts and actions, day by day, all the way to crucifixion
and resurrection. All the way to forgiveness and fellowship at
the table God has prepared.
Amen
The
Rev. John Dryden Burton
St.
James Episcopal Church
Springfield.
Missouri
Palm Sunday, 28 Mar 2010