Dying to Ourselves, Rising in Christ
“Dying to Ourselves, Rising in Christ”
Psalm 118:1-2, 19-29 Matthew 21:1-11
Palm Sunday, Year A, April 5, 2020
First Presbyterian Church of Sandpoint, Idaho
Andrew Kennaly, Pastor
Today is Palm-Passion Sunday, one week before Easter. The Passion of Jesus involves his being arrested, crucified, and buried. The Palm Sunday part focuses on his arriving in Jerusalem, starting the unfolding week. Thursday evening at 6:30, I’ll be posting a Tenebrae service on Facebook Live which features candles and scriptures, reading through the narrative of Jesus’ Passion. Nothing fancy, focusing on the basics. Today we look at Palm Sunday.
This year, we have a bucket outside the building with eco-palms available. Eco-palms are ordered through a program that ensures the branches are harvested sustainability, and the farmers given a fair wage for their labor. Usually, they decorate the pews and church members wave them while we sing, but not this year; just a few. If you’re driving by, stop and get a palm branch, then go on a walk; think about Jesus facing his fears as he courageously enters Jerusalem, moment by moment.
The Triumphal entry, Matthew’s version, has Jesus entering Jerusalem as people lay their cloaks on the road, while others cut branches from the trees and lay them on the road. Cloak Sunday doesn’t have the same ring, but it has the same effect. People are showing how they place expectations on Jesus to be the beginning of a rebellion. Waving palm branches is politically charged, a symbol of nationalism, of going against the Roman occupiers. Yet Jesus is choosing other symbols, like a colt, foal, donkey, depending on which Gospel you read. Again, the same effect: Jesus comes in peace, humbly, without aggression, not defending anything because he has learned, and models for us, what a life in unity with God looks like when the fears of one’s ego structures are dismantled.
Jesus knows exactly what is facing him in Jerusalem, yet he chooses non-violent resistance that’s grounded on Love: love for God, love of his True Self as Son of God, love for others, even love for his enemies because there are no distinctions when all are viewed as one; when the unity of shared consciousness is experienced, when Grace as Reality shines forth in your heart and soul, transforming your mind.
Lately we’ve heard the phrase, “We’re all in this together.” We’ve heard it challenged as critics point out that privileged people in positions of power have access to better testing and care than most people do. Yet even the critique points out the desire to notice that all people are important and socio-economic distinctions are artificial when talking about human life. “We’re all in this together” taken at a deeper, or higher level, recognizes a shared consciousness; that humanity is one. Even as we live as individuals, our specific and unique life is part of a larger whole and a greater unity. This is the approach Jesus has as he enters Jerusalem with humility and courage, and yet is confronted by people who are constantly judging, either that he is their political savior or that he is an enemy. By the end of the week, Jesus is condemned by religion and executed by the State, for blasphemy and sedition. Simply by riding a symbolic animal of humility and peace into this sea of judgment, he is pointing out the need to move beyond, to evolve, to change our mind’s processes, away from dualistic judgments that cling to identity and get energy from fear, to a larger Mind, centered in Christ, trusting at the heart level a love that has no end.
I don’t have my clergy robe on today. I didn’t wear it last week either. Usually, when I lead worship, I wear a clergy robe and a stole. With the video scene, I’m going more casual, and I do like sweaters. Did you know robes are symbolic? Clergy wear robes for a few reasons. One, it’s traditional, it’s just what you do because the church does things like that. But, like most traditions, it started for some reason. Reasons like, robes are a symbol that clergy have a certain level of education. In my case, my robe is styled on an academic model, like a professor or teacher. I could have a Master’s hood going over the back of my robe, but I only rented one for my graduation from seminary, as I received my Master of Divinity. I didn’t keep the hood. Other pastors go on and get their doctorates, and their robes have stripes on the sleeves, so you can tell just by their robes what the education level is.
For stoles, the fabric that hangs kind of like a scarf, these come in different colors depending on the season. Lent is purple, Advent is either purple or blue, Easter is white, Pentecost is red, and there’s some variations here and there. A stole symbolizes a yoke. A yoke is a piece of equipment used by an animal, like an ox or a horse or mule or donkey, some animal that pulls a harness, attached to a cart or a plow. The yoke is kind of like a backpack with straps for us, some way to distribute weight and pressure, to carry the load the distance required to get the job done. Wearing a stole is a symbol of being yoked for Christ, of doing the work of Jesus, who says, “My yoke is easy and my burden light.” Some say Jesus, as a carpenter, was known for his yokes, a specialty he worked on in his trade to ease the burden of animals.
Clergy robes, styles, stripes, stoles, colors, clothing symbolism. This gets us right back to that parade on the streets of Jerusalem as people symbolize their hopes as they lay their cloaks before Jesus and the crowds shout out, “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!” as they claim Jesus as the savior. They said, “This is Jesus, the prophet from Nazareth in Galilee.” Some say savior, some say prophet, what they mean by savior is largely political; this is a chaotic scene; expectations are all over the place, interpretations are varied; this fray is a microcosm of the world’s confusion, with power and control issues, egoic fears, defensive posturing, hopes intermingling. People are announcing, others are reacting, and what is actually happening under the surface is not going to be revealed for some time. In this scene the world is doing what the world does, and God is patiently present with this.
One saying I like is this: History doesn’t repeat, but it rhymes. This microcosm event reflects the echoes of history and even contemporary moments as we in our world continue to struggle with fear, worry, angst, anxieties, threats and violence, political pressures; all expression of the tension of living in a world of judging, measuring, comparing, opinions, and thoughts, what’s known as dualistic thinking; even as we’re called to a larger view, a more connected and clarified experience of reality, the unity of consciousness itself expressed in all things, human and non-human alike. In the fray, we’re invited to notice God in our midst. That awareness, like Jesus on a donkey, carries a vision and intent of God’s love for the world.
In the days ahead, the situation the world finds itself in is going to get more complicated. The pattern involves struggle, suffering, which leads to blame and accusing as pain is projected onto others, and this perpetuates stupidity. The mindset that created this situation will not be adequate to resolve it. To expect that is too much because this problem is not specific to a virus, it is indicative of the need for systemic change.
Not only is this pandemic re-shaping culture in terms of expectations, practices, and assumptions, but this is also an invitation to do more than a few economic or political tweaks. This is an opportunity to remain open to a heart change, an expanding spirit, a deeper unity, a more compassionate expression of life. Anger, fear, defensiveness; these only get us so far. Looking back at an idealized past doesn’t help move us forward.
Collaboration, trust, and love, expressed in the Peace of Christ and embodied fully in Jesus, are calling us to learn in faith the art of letting go, to “rend our hearts and not our garment,” as the Hebrew Bible says in Joel 2:13, to contemplate on God so then our actions are based, not on our fear, or our desire for control, or on blaming or accusing; but centered on Christ, who leads us in the way of peace, reconciliation, and renewed spirits.
In that, try and wave a branch today to symbolize your desire for Jesus to come to you in a new way that reveals the depths of God’s loving presence experientially, in a felt-sense. Ask God to help you be open to transformation, to give God room to work in the fray of life. Wave a branch in solidarity with all of creation, asking God to help us live, in Christ, as people of the earth who trust the journey into a deeper unity with all things. May the waving action itself draw you into the peace of each moment, breath by breath. Happy Palm Sunday, as we humble ourselves before the Lord, to live Christ-infused lives. And with each breath, may God’s humble and powerful love be experienced, NOW, even as forever. Amen.