Palm Sunday 2010 - "Come Worship with Us! Come and See!"

     Yesterday we lifted our arms, waving our palms branches, as we entered into the church.  Once again it was too rainy to process around the church outdoors, so we settled for circling the nave as we sang, the traditional "All Glory, Laud and Honor.."  We had visitors.  We knew ahead that they were coming.  We also knew they would be unfamiliar with our traditional celebration of Palm Sunday.  I thought about them a lot during the service, wondering what they thought as we read the Passion with a narrator in the pulpit, with our parish priest reading the part of Jesus and a reader, who read the parts of all the other  characters.  I wondered if our visitors would be jolted right out of their pews when we got to the part where the entire congregation plays a role in the Passion by shouting, "Crucify him!" as  Pilate asks what they would have him do.  After the reading of the Passion, there was the homily.  It was no feel good, mushy sermon.  It was to the point and without pretty words to make it palatable.  Nothing about a coming crucifixion is palatable.  The words of the preacher left one knowing that there is now no turning back from the way of the cross.  Not for Jesus, not for us.
     Our visitors had been brought up to believe that we Episcopalians are not Christian.  I was able to see their faces clearly, as they hung on every word.  One of them was leaning forward, eyes locked onto the preacher with such intensity as he strained to make sure he did not miss a single word, that I thought he might just topple over and bang his chin on the rail in front of him, but he didn't.  I am very certain that what they had been told about us not being Christian went by the wayside by the end of the homily.
     As the service headed towards its pinnacle, the sharing of the Eucharist, our visitors did not come forward with the rest of the congregation, even though it was explained that any baptized person was welcome at our table and that even the un-baptized could come forward for a blessing.  It would have been such a joy and added much to the celebration if they had come forward, but it was understandable that they did not.  Because it was their first experience of a liturgical style of worship and everything was new and strange to them, they had done as much as they could do by just being with us.
     After the service our visitors stayed for coffee hour, that time of fellowship we affectionately and humorously refer to as "the eighth sacrament."  We call it that because we believe our ability to talk to one another and share about our faith in Jesus Christ is so much more important than any set of  rules, dogma or other issues that drive Christians apart, that we cherish these opportunities, such as coffee hour, when we can get together and communicate face to face, in love.
      This particular coffee hour was a very interesting time for our visitors and for us.  As our time of fellowship progressed there were many questions back and forth with our visitors.  As there were two of them, we ended up forming two conversational groups.  We didn't do it on purpose.  It just happened naturally.  They had many questions about us and about our beliefs and about the church in general.  It was a very spirited and robust time of conversation, sharing our views back and forth.  We talked for an hour or so.  I knew there was much more they wanted to ask about, but there was not enough time for all the questions.  It ended with everyone, visitors and us, feeling that something important had occurred.  As I left the church I kept thinking of Jesus saying, "Where two or more are gathered in my name...."  I know we all felt His presence around the room as we talked and became friends.  When they left, they told us they were going to come back again.
      As Episcopalians, we really are accepting of others who are different than ourselves.  I remember when I first came into the Episcopal Church from another faith tradition.  As we approached the church for the first time, and as the doors opened I was expecting what I call the "Scalps for Jesus" approach to visitors - grab 'em and scalp 'em, and cut another notch in your tomahawk handle for Jesus.  But that's not what I found at the Episcopal Church  I found a smiling and happy people for whom every Sunday service is a joyous celebration, and who took me by the arm and said,  "Come, come worship with us!  Come and see!"  I hope that is what our visitors found yesterday as we shared the celebration of Jesus triumphal entry into Jerusalem with them. 
  

From the Transfiguration to the Cross

     The Sunday before Ash Wednesday was the Feast of the Transfiguration, commemorating the occasion when Jesus revealed himself to his closest associates in his Divinity as well as his humanity.  For just a moment, they were able to see him as both God and man.  He knew they would need this picture to carry them through all the trials and tribulations that would come next, as each one would face challenges for his belief in Jesus, not only as their national Messiah, but as the savior and redeemer of all mankind.
     What a stark contrast.  One week we we are facing one direction, gazing upon Jesus in all his Glory.  The next, we turn the other direction to look at Jesus in his humanity.  On Ash Wednesday we began the journey that will we all know will end at Golgotha.  As the days spiral downward towards the cross, we also spiral down into our Lenten disciplines and times of introspection, reflection and repentance.  As we get closer to Holy Week we become more and more focused on the individual events of the last days of the life of Jesus.  By Palm Sunday we look at each major event of those last days, as if under a microscope.  
      First, there is the triumphal entry into Jerusalem, with crowds waving palm branches and laying their garments across his path as he rides into Jerusalem admidst shouts of, "Hosanna! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!"  Just days later Jesus celebrates his last Passover with the disciples, those intimate friends and associates who have followed him for the last three and a half years through thick and thin.  He takes his place at the table and tells them, "I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you."  As he lifts the third cup, the Cup of Blessing, he makes a fundamental change in the ceremony, and makes the Passover apply to himself.  "This is my body, which is given for you..." he says.  And then again, "This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood."  For ever after, he is ultimately and finally, the Passover Lamb without blemish, the perfect sacrifice for the whole world."  For us, we remember this moment each time in the Mass when the celebrant says, "Christ our Passover has been sacrificed for us", and we respond, "Therefore, let us keep the feast."
     Then comes betrayal, arrest, the disciples hiding in fear, illegal trials, scourging and the crucifixion.  Just as Jesus knew that those disciples would need to remember him in his Glory during those moments when they were afraid, He knows that we also need to remember the Glory of the Transfiguation, lest we also are overcome during the our times of trial and fear.    We are very blessed in one respect.  Whereas the disciples were still struggling to come to grips with just who He was,  we have two thousand years of history to reflect and look back on in our understanding of Jesus and what he came to do; but even though we have this advantage, often we still struggle with that same issue - Who is Jesus and what place does he have in my life?  
     When we find ourselves this struggle, wondering what Jesus has to do with our lives, I urge you to turn back and revisit the Transfiguration with new eyes and see Jesus in his Divinity as well as his humanity. During Lent, especially, it is easy to get so focused on identifying with Jesus in his humanity that we forget to look up and see that he is also God.
     I wish each and every one of you a Blessed Holy Week and Easter Season!