Palm Sunday

If you know anything about the Christian calendar, you are probably aware that today is Palm Sunday, and that it is the beginning of Holy Week. If you are a Christian and attend a more traditional church, you will likely spend this week recreating the final week of Jesus' earthly life, from his triumphal entry to his resurrection Easter morning. Having never been part of a truly liturgical church, I have generally skipped right from Palm Sunday to Easter without spending much time on Maundy Thursday or Good Friday, and I think that might present something of a problem.

In most churches, Palm Sunday is the day when the children come in, sometimes singing, sometimes not, waving palm branches. Most of them have goofy grins on their faces, happy to be the center of attention for a little while, or perhaps they're happy to have a way to participate in the service. The songs for Palm Sunday services are generally triumphal in tone, mirroring the songs of the people in Jerusalem as Jesus came riding in, singing "Hosanna in the highest."

The irony, of course, is that those who cheered him on, as recorded in the Gospels, were calling for his death just a few short days later. They thought that they were getting a Prophet King who would restore Israel's fortunes and free the people from their Roman oppressors. What they got was a suffering servant, "a man of sorrows, and well acquainted with grief." Even though we should know better now, I sometimes wonder if we don't make the same mistake, believing that if only we pray enough, read our Bibles enough, go to church often enough, Jesus will be the conquering King who frees us from all troubles while we live in this world. In general, especially in less liturgical churches, little attention is paid to Jesus' suffering, except for a quick reference on Easter. And it has been rare to talk about the call to suffer at any other time of the year, except in reference to overcoming it, to triumphing over it.

The hazard of skipping what comes in between Palm Sunday and Easter, in not remembering Maundy Thursday or Good Friday, is that it is all too easy to remember nothing but the triumphal entry and the even more victorious resurrection, while forgetting the suffering that comes in between--the suffering that we, in fact, are promised. We forget that Christ the Lord is also Christ the Servant, and that we are called to bear his image in this world. The promise is not that we will escape suffering here, but that Christ will give us rest, that "a bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out." (Isaiah 42:3a). Call me crazy, but if we are meant to reflect his image, shouldn't this be our focus? Oughtn't we to follow in his footsteps, both in accepting suffering as it comes to us, and in comforting those who are currently struggling? (To be fair, I should state that this was something that we discussed in this morning's service in the church I am currently attending.)

In the Book of Common Prayer, the collect for the Sunday of the Passion (Palm Sunday) is as follows: "Almighty and everliving God, in your tender love for the human race you sent your Son our Savior Jesus Christ to take upon him our nature, and to suffer death upon the cross, giving us the example of his great humility: Mercifully grant that we may walk in the way of his suffering, and also share in his resurrection; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen."

I am, to be sure, not very good at this. I like being comfortable, and I dislike hurt of any sort, physical or emotional. I certainly have a fear of suffering, which is why I think I shall be praying this particular prayer a lot in the future, and trusting that He will give me the humility and courage to bear whatever may come my way.