Palm Sunday, March 24, 2024
Bearing Witness: What is left for us to do
Colleen D. Hartung
Palm Sunday at HWM is high ritual framed by a bountiful proclamation of the Word. We expect it. It is part of our ritual pattern. But I realized for the first time as I was researching and sorting through this abundance for today’s homily that our tradition of juxtaposing the readings of Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem with the reading of the Passion is not a universal practice across Christian denominations. After figuring this out, I did a quick survey of my neighborhood friends; for the Methodists, at least in Sun Prairie, it is Palm Sunday all the way. For my Lutheran, Catholic, and Anglican friends, there is an enactment of a procession with palms and hosanas. But the reading of the Passion follows and is the centerpiece of the liturgy. There is, I learned, a common reasoning behind the inclusion of this solemn and dramatic preview of the passion to come – the suffering made present in the rituals of Holy (Week). Liturgists and traditions making this choice want to be sure that it isn’t just those with the most time or the most devotion who will bear witness to the betrayal and suffering that follows the seemingly triumphal entry into Jerusalem. The reading of the Passion on this 6th Sunday of Lent is meant to ensure the witness of the whole community. Without this intervention, one could arrive on Easter Sunday morning moving from on story of triumph to another. And with that gloss you could almost let yourself believe that triumph is the point. The Kingdom of God anticipated by so many (then and now) arrived at the gates of the holy city and made manifest on the cross as a conquest of human frailty that institutes a revolutionary, even a theocratic world order. The very real humanity of Jesus; the suffering, betrayal, loss, and love lived in the week between brushed over as an interlude between hosanas and alleluias.
The passion: Jesus knows it is coming. He has been confronted by the religious leaders; he is more than aware that his reading and teaching of scripture and the way of life he shares with the crowds are an afront to centuries of authority and power accumulated by the religious ruling class. They have made it clear that he as crossed a line and Jesus knows there will be consequences if he takes his challenge to Jerusalem, the seat of religious power, during the high holy time of Passover. Furthermore, Jerusalem is an occupied city, in turmoil. Not so different from today. Jesus knows what happens to those accused and convicted of insurrection by Rome. In those days, crucifixions were common and lined the road into the city; a warning – the consequences of challenging political authority were also clear. And he goes anyway. He is compelled by his passion for the people who have been waiting – the poor, the sick, the outcast, the hopeful, those who long for and desperately need something better. He is compelled by his love for those who yearn for something more; and he is compelled by the assurance of an inclusive love of God proclaimed in scriptures – a love already present if only one can enact and fulfill it.
And so he goes; he enters the city; he shares a farewell meal with his disciples; he prays for this trial to pass; his followers fail to keep watch with him; he is betrayed by Judas and Peter; he is turned over by the elders and condemned by Pilot; taunted by his executioners; nailed to a cross; mocked by the crowds; he dies a tortuous death. And yet, in the midst of this week to come with all its terror and fear; the betrayal; the suffering; the loss; when it seems there is nothing but humanity at its worst; there are the women bearing witness from afar; they know from life experience, that sometimes that is all one can do. But bearing witness; that is no small thing
Jesus’ death on the cross is an ultimate act of love; to hold your feet to the fire of your love for the people that make your heart whole; your love for those you know and those who pull at your heart strings from afar; your love for those that make the love of God actual in your life and in the world; that make love an embodied living reality. Bearing witness to that mighty love is its own act of love. And in this interlude between the laying of the palms and the rolling away of the stone it is the only thing left for us to do.