Palm Sunday, 2005:

Yogi Berra once said, “You’ve got to be very careful if you don’t know where you are going, because you might not get there.”  Then he added, “If you don’t know where you are going, you might wind up someplace else.”  Yogi also said, “Anyone who is popular is bound to be disliked.”  That is a truth more prophetic than he intended.

Palm Sunday asks that we be clear about where we are going.  It is not always easy to get from one place to another.  That applies to physical locations, to emotional stability, and to spiritual realities.  The tough thing about Palm Sunday is that it asks us to make the hardest journey any of us ever have to make…that approximate 18-inch trip from head to heart.  We strive to grasp in the space of one hour what occurred in a seven-day time period.

We begin with the triumphal entry of Jesus into the holy city of Jerusalem, we move to the passion of Jesus the Christ, and we end with his cruel death of the cross.  That we conclude this day with the Eucharist points to a reality that is made most clear next Sunday. 

The amazing contrast between the account of the triumphant entry and the passion story might be attributed to the fickle nature of mob psychology.  We have some chilling examples in history of people doing things in a crowd that they wouldn’t dream of doing by themselves. 

Perhaps the crowd was being fairly consistent.  Why the palm branches and the hosannas?  Well, their hero had finally arrived.  They had been expecting him.  He was going to overthrow the oppressors, conquer their enemies, and exact revenge on those who had treated them so cruelly for so many years.  Now they would be # 1 for a change.  They were celebrating what was in it for them.  Vengeance is sweet, once you get beyond the bitter first taste.

As the week unfolded they quickly learned that it was not to be that way.  He was not to conquer and rule; not as David and Solomon and the few other great kings in their collective history had done.  He seemed to submissive and meek and mild.  Conquerors don’t talk about forgiveness and love and turning the other cheek.  No, they make others feel the pain they had been feeling.  This “king” wouldn’t even call on his closest friends to come to his aid.  He was being abused and ridiculed by the religious authorities and couldn’t or wouldn’t defend himself.  No real Messiah here, so they quickly saw there was nothing in it for them.  And, so the “Hosanna, blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord,” quickly turned into shouts of “Crucify him!  Crucify him!”

Modern life is no stranger to this idea.  I hear it from time to time.  Someone will offer the worn out excuse, “I don’t go to church because I don’t get anything out of it.”  That reveals the same attitude as those who turned on Jesus in one short week.  I’ve had people say to me, “I stopped going to church because it was not meeting my needs,” “I don’t go any more because the vestry, rector, diocese, or national church has done or said something with which I don’t agree.”  Does that sound familiar?  “Why can’t we sing the hymns I enjoy?”  “I’m a Rite I person and you do Rite II all the time.”  “The Prayers of the People are just way too long.”  “The same old clique runs everything.”  Well, to whom do we sing our hymns?  Who is worshiped in Rite I or Rite II?  Perhaps offering ones leadership for a particular program would move a member of the clique out of the way.

As lovingly and pastorally as possible I want to say that I hope no one ever comes to St. John’s Episcopal Church only to get something out of it.  I pray that some of the spiritual needs that people have are met in this place, but I need to tell you that meeting spiritual needs is not the primary goal of this church.  We gather to worship God through the Risen Christ.  We come to this place to give primarily and not to get.  Doing it the other way simply means we are the ones being worshiped.  A place, a ritual, a liturgy always points beyond itself to a greater and more ultimate reality.

I pray that some spiritual needs are met here.  I hope that happens.  We do strive to be faithful in planning our worship services.  I do work pretty hard to deliver meaningful sermons to you and to myself.  But, our primary task is to provide opportunities for you to give yourself away in service to Christ and the ministry to which you have been called.  Creating an atmosphere in which that can happen is the thing to which we devote most of our energy and time.

I pray this does not come across too harshly or uncaring.  I honestly do not intend that to be the case.  I suppose I just felt like we have allowed the last year or so to play a cruel trick on us.  We waste an inordinate amount of time debating issues of human legitimacy and fail to see the reality of human need outside our doors, our community, our nation, and our world.

Jesus is being questioned by Pilate, who asks, “Do you not hear how many accusations they make against you?”  Jesus does not give him an answer.  Pilate, thinking he is in control, is amazed and becomes the first to face the terror of the silent Christ.  Why the silence?

Silence may be caused by contempt.  Silence can show that the statements, arguments, or excuses are not worth answering.  The listener simply leaves the questioner in silence.

Fear can move one to silence.  Being afraid to speak may gag one into silence.  Fear of the soul may stop someone from saying what he or she knows should be said.

Deep hurt can bring about silence.  A person can be so wounded that words just won’t come.  A person can experience such deep sorrow that the spirit is moved beyond words.

Tragedy can be so terrible that words are useless.  I would suggest to you that this is the reason Jesus is silent as he stands before Pilate.  He knew there was no bridge between himself and the religious establishment.  He knew there was nothing in Pilate to which he could ultimately appeal.  The lines of communication were irretrievably broken.  Hatred was an iron curtain that no words could penetrate.

It is a tragic thing when a person’s heart is such that even Jesus the Christ knows it is hopeless to speak.  My enduring prayer is that I never become so convinced about my own certainty that all learning stops and I am surrounded by silence.

In the narrative from Matthew the silence is finally broken from the cross and there is a loud cry.  In John’s Gospel that cry is said to be a single word, “tetelestai.”  It means “accomplished.”  Jesus died with the shout of triumph of his lips, his task completed, his work accomplished, his victory won.  What happened beyond that was strictly up to God.

The shout tore the temple veil in two.  The way to God was now wide open to every person, even those we deem unworthy.  God was no long hidden and removed.  Human beings need not grope and guess.  God is made clear in this event.  Should you ever wonder whether God loves you or not, gaze at this scene.   God indeed does love us that much.  So much in fact, the story does not end with Jesus on the cross.  The point of it all comes next week.  I pray you will be here to experience it.  Amen.