Homily on 1 Thessalonians

This is a homily I gave last week in my preaching class on a reading from 1 Thessalonians.  The intended audience is the members of the class, all seminarians.


A Reading from Paul’s first letter to the Thessalonians

Now concerning the times and the seasons, brothers and sisters, you do not need to have anything written to you.  For you yourselves know very well that the day of the Lord will come like a thief in the night.  When they say, “There is peace and security,” then sudden destruction will come upon them, as labor pains come upon a pregnant woman, and there will be no escape! But you, beloved, are not in darkness, for that day to surprise you like a thief; for you are all children of light and children of the day; we are not of the night or of darkness. So then let us not fall asleep as others do, but let us keep awake and be sober; for those who sleep sleep at night, and those who are drunk get drunk at night. But since we belong to the day, let us be sober, and put on the breastplate of faith and love, and for a helmet the hope of salvation. For God has destined us not for wrath but for obtaining salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ, who died for us, so that whether we are awake or asleep we may live with him. Therefore encourage one another and build up each other, as indeed you are doing.

“In the depth a light will grow, A silver shine no shadows know, Like wings unfolding in the sky, That circle 'round a gleaming eye, Turning darkness all away, Even depths will know their day, For every shadow has its end, In light! Life will return again!”

Robert Fanney, an author of Science Fiction novels.

In the reading from Paul’s letter to the Thessalonian’s, as well as in the poem I just read, light conquers darkness.  In both cases the darkness is overcome by light, which in turn brings life.  For all of us, as seminarians and future priests, it is this light that we are called to bring into the world. In a few short years, we will be tasked with offering the light of Jesus Christ to the people of our parishes.  During these years of formation at seminary, we are filling our toolboxes with the tools we need to carry out our future mission.  Every class we take affords us the opportunity to gain yet another tool for that mission.

In my personal toolbox, one of the most useful tools is a flashlight, given to me after successfully completing Clinical pastoral education also known as CPE this past summer.  It was during CPE that I honed my skills helping people explore their own darkness, and allowing them to find the light within themselves.    During one patient visit, I was sitting with a mother whose child was hours away from dying of cancer.  She was only able to see the darkness of losing her son.   After talking with her about the love and compassion she felt towards him and the pain her son was experiencing, she realized that while it was difficult for her to let go of him in this life, she would see her son again in Heaven.  During our conversation, she found the light and love of Christ.  It was through me walking with this mother in her darkness that she could find and accept the light of Christ.

In his letter, Paul challenges the Thessalonians “to put on the breastplate of faith and love, and for a helmet the hope of salvation and encourage one another and build up each other.” Similar to the Thessalonians, we also strap on our tools.  It is through the breastplate of faith and love and the helmet of salvation that we begin our work.  From the tools given to us by Christ Jesus and the other tools we collect and learn to use while at seminary, we begin our ministry helping people become children of the light.  For as Paul writes, children of the light will not be surprised by the thief in the night but rather be ready for the thief’s arrival.  We do not want our parishioner’s to be left sleeping in the dark instead we want them to be awake and vigilant, ready for the time to come.

It is our calling as future priests to fill our toolboxes with everything necessary to walk with people in the darkness and guide them to the light.  Now is our time to ensure that we have fitted our breastplates and secured our helmets.  It is also time to inventory our own toolboxes.

Thus far in our seminary career, what tools do we already have in our toolbox and what tools are we missing for our work ahead?

The Feast of St. Francis

Today is the day that many churches celebrate the Feast of Saint Francis.  It is a day to remember Giovanni Francesco di Bernardone.  St. Francis grew up the son of a wealthy cloth merchant, living the good life as the leader of a band of soldiers.  One day, while returning from a battle, he heard a voice and gave it all up.  He realized that he had to say no to the world in order to say yes to God.  From there he wrote an order of life and the order of Franciscans were for born.

Each year, there are many different celebrations to commemorate the life of St. Francis.  In many Episcopal churches this is done with the blessing of animals.  Within the Franciscan tradition, the transitus is celebrated.  I had the privilege of attending a transitus this year at the Franciscan School of Theology here at the GTU.  In the transitus, the story of St Francis is told, hymns are sung and a meal is shared.  It is both a solemn and celebratory service all at the same time.  After attending the transitus this year, I have decided that the service will become an annual event for me.  It was a moving experience in which I was able to celebrate the life and death of St. Francis with my Franciscan seminary counterparts.

As John Kater, a member of our faculty stated in his sermon on Thursday night, "I want to free St. Francis from the birdbath."  While many people love the blessing of the animals, St Francis was much more than just animals.  St Francis is credited with creating the first Nativity Scene.  St. Francis was a man that not only honored God but also the world in which we all live.

For more information on St. Francis, click here.
For more information of the Transitus, click here.

The centerpiece of the Transitus at Franciscan School of Theology
 a Franciscan Habit laid out as if it was St. Francis

A Prayer Attributed to St. Francis

Lord, make us instruments of your peace. Where there is hatred, let us sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is discord, union; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy. Grant that we may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love. For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen.

The Canticle of the Sun 

by Francis of Assisi

Most high, all powerful, all good Lord! All praise is yours, all glory, all honor, and all blessing. To you, alone, Most High, do they belong. No mortal lips are worthy to pronounce your name.
Be praised, my Lord, through all your creatures, especially through my lord Brother Sun, who brings the day; and you give light through him. And he is beautiful and radiant in all his splendor! Of you, Most High, he bears the likeness.
Be praised, my Lord, through Sister Moon and the stars; in the heavens you have made them, precious and beautiful.
Be praised, my Lord, through Brothers Wind and Air, and clouds and storms, and all the weather, through which you give your creatures sustenance.
Be praised, My Lord, through Sister Water; she is very useful, and humble, and precious, and pure.
Be praised, my Lord, through Brother Fire, through whom you brighten the night. He is beautiful and cheerful, and powerful and strong.
Be praised, my Lord, through our sister Mother Earth, who feeds us and rules us, and produces various fruits with colored flowers and herbs.
Be praised, my Lord, through those who forgive for love of you; through those who endure sickness and trial. Happy those who endure in peace, for by you, Most High, they will be crowned.
Be praised, my Lord, through our Sister Bodily Death, from whose embrace no living person can escape. Woe to those who die in mortal sin! Happy those she finds doing your most holy will. The second death can do no harm to them.
Praise and bless my Lord, and give thanks, and serve him with great humility.

(translated by Bill Barrett from the Umbrian text of the Assisi codex.)

Death...

I have been doing a lot of talking about death this semester here are CDSP and on Facebook.  You see I am taking a class entitled The Spirituality of Death and Dying.  The class is all about how we as Christians handle death, both personally and as a religion. In fact just this morning, a group of us spent the morning exploring a cemetery and mausoleum. It was a wonderful adventure and hope to have the pictures I took up here in a few days. But that is another post.  Now on with the class description.

One of our first assignments was to create our own advanced directives and plan our own funeral.  The thought was that if we couldn't talk about our own death, how as future priests within the church could we help our parishioners.    It is a serious topic for discussion and one that we all really spent some time thinking about.  Of course everything up until now has been working from my head.  Unfortunately tonight, death went from being something we think about in class and among friends to a community event from the heart.

This past week the local middle school was rocked with allegations of sexual misconduct by a teacher.  The teacher was arrested and ultimately was released on bail.  On Tuesday, the community was notified that the teacher had committed suicide.  The entire community was devastated not only by the allegations but also by the teacher's death.  My field ed supervisor felt that the local religious community should do something to respond to these events.  Tonight was that event.  My supervisor asked if I was able to attend, so I left our community eucharistic celebration and community night dinner and headed over to the local town hall.  We placed luminaries on the sidewalk outside and set up   160 chairs.  There were sand boxes for votive candles and everything was made ready.  The event was scheduled to begin at 7:30 p.m..  Inside nine religious leaders came together for a "Community Interfaith Gathering for Comfort and Healing.  At first I was concerned whether anyone would attend the service.  What I soon learned was that this community is in need of hope.  When the program finally ended over 200 people were in attendance and it was an incredibly moving experience.  I stood in the back of the auditorium and spoke with people, both teenagers and adults, as they left during the service, always checking to see if they wanted to talk or what emotions they were facing.

The tears in the eyes of young and old were flowing and the outpouring of love to all the victims, both students and teacher, was incredible.  I have never experienced an event like I did this evening.  I know none of the victims, yet by the end of the night I feel like I know all of them.  I heard stories of a well-respected teacher who loved his students and of students that had their innocence taken away.  We do not know the truth behind the story and now we probably never will.  The story cannot have closure.

In cases like this some of the most disturbing things I heard were from parents.  One parent spoke of her daughter's friends cutting themselves because they had no way to release the pain they felt.  The parent expressed her concern for the well-being of all the children.  Of feeling helpless and not knowing where to turn.  While listening to her speak, I also felt helpless.  What does one say to a person as they tell you of someone else's pain.  I have never gone through it and sure can't say I understand because I don't.

After an event like this, I can truly say that I hope I never experience this type of event again.  Unfortunately, I probably will face a similar instance during my time in parish ministry.  This evening gave me an excellent opportunity to reflect upon just how fragile we are as humans and how much we need each other when tragedy strikes.

When an event like this takes place, I find myself begin to ask some pretty tough questions.  Where is God in all these events?  How can someone reconcile the God of Love against a God that allows these events to take place?  If I am struggling with these issues, imagine what a person not in seminary must be thinking?  How, as a future priest (God willing),  can I help people come to terms with these issues? Maybe that is one of the reasons I was there tonight, in order for me to wrestle with the tough questions.  I really don't know.  Hopefully as I reflect upon these events further, I will begin to understand and or comprehend but as of right now, I don't.

I will leave you with the Litany for community healing and comfort that was used this evening.

Coming from all corners of our community, we gather in the midst of pain and confusion.  We come together to seek and share healing and comfort.

Source of Life and love, we need help holding this heavy load.  Be with us as we gather to seek and share healing and comfort.

For all those in need: May there be healing and comfort.
For the family of the deceased: May there be healing and comfort.
For our students, their parents and families: May there be healing and comfort.
For teachers, counselors and school teachers: May there be healing and comfort.
For those who speak out: May there be healing and comfort.
For victims of abuse and hurt: May there be healing and comfort.
For public servants: May there be healing and comfort.
For the bearers of difficult news: May there be healing and comfort.
For all who consider this community home: May there be healing and comfort.

May the source of Life be with each of us, and may we be present with one another, that we may move - as individuals and as families, as schools and as a community - towards healing and comfort.

 Lighting the way into the service

As the service began

I apologize if this post seems to be a stream of consciousness as I believe it really is.  I needed to write down some of my thoughts from this evening as a way to help me process what I witnessed this evening.  What I have written here is just a small portion of what I have been thinking and feeling over the course of the last seven hours now.

It's been a while - My summer CPE experience

I apologize for the delay in posting on the blog.  This summer was a whirlwind of activity for me.  I am now back in Berkeley and getting used to the routine of school once again.  I'll talk about my classes in a later post.  Right now I would like to talk about my experiences this summer while working as a Chaplain intern at St. Luke's Hospital in Bethlehem, PA.

Part of the requirements for ordination in the Diocese of Pennsylvania is that I take part in an intense summer program called Clinical Pastoral Education.  For me, CPE as it is more commonly called was a ten week intensive program working as a chaplain in a hospital.  My typical work day was from 8:00 a.m. to 4:30 p.m.  The day began with morning report.  At morning report, the on-call chaplain discussed what happened overnight and which patients if any needed to have follow up done.  This was a time when everything from trauma's to codes to deaths were discussed.  It was both light hearted and serious at the same time.  Immediately following report, a short devotion was given.  Following devotion, I was in "class" until noon.  I parenthesize class because it was not lecture but rather experiential learning.  Part of time as spent in Intentional Personal Reflection (IPR) or as we called it caring and sharing, some time was spent in bible study, some time doing Verbatim's and other time thinking about what I taught myself this week.  The purpose of the time was always to examine my own life and how I both respond and react to situations that arise during patient interactions.  For instance why did I say ____ to that patient or why did you not ask the patient ______.  In the end, it was a time that allowed me to examine my pre-conceived notions, thoughts and actions and how I need to be cognizant of them as I continue my priestly career.  For me, it was a very difficult thing to examine but after it is all said and done, I am a much better person for it.  I have been awakened to things that I did unconsciously and feelings that I forgot I had.

After the class time was over, I then spent the next four hours working on two different floors of the hospital making patient visits.  It was the policy of the hospital that every patient received a chaplain visit within five days of admission.  With 68 rooms on two floors, that was a very difficult policy to adhere to.  Yet it was during those visits, that I learned how to live out my baptismal covenant better than ever before.   As I walked into a patients room, I was always amazed at how each patient taught me something about life.  During those visits, I was honored and blessed to spend time with patients in their best and worst moments.  As I walked into a room, sometimes I was the angel of death, (why is a chaplain visiting me?  Am I dying? Did the doctors not tell me something?) to the Christ Bearer.  I never knew what to expect.  What I did learn was that Christ is present in every situation and that even in the worst of times, Christ is willing and able to help.

After patient visits were completed, I went back to the work room for afternoon report, where once again, we each passed on to the on-call chaplain the patients that we felt needed to be followed up on overnight as well as patients we felt might not make it through the night.  It was a more somber tone as we bid the on-call chaplain a good night and all prayed for the well-being of our colleague.

On some nights, 11 in total, I was the on-call chaplain.  When on-call, I was the only chaplain in the hospital and had to report to all urgent pastoral needs.  I carried a pager and always dreaded the pager going off.  You never knew what to expect but always had to be ready for the worst case scenario.  It was during the on-calls that I faced some of my most challenging cases. After all, part of my job was to meet every trauma that arrived and notify family that their loved one had arrived.  I will never forget making my first phone call.  My voice was shaking, I was nervous and unsure of what exactly to say.  Yet I was able to make the call and broke the news to the family who arrived a short time later.  When families arrived, the chaplain is also the person that meets them in the emergency room and talks to them first.  It was during those times that I was really the angel of death.  Why else would a chaplain be in the ER?  Luckily, I never had to meet the family of a dead patient in the ER.  One of the other responsibilities of the on-call chaplain is being the go-between between the medical staff and the family.    I also learned more about medical procedures and conditions than I ever thought I wanted to know.  Who knew that I would learn how to read the MRI of a broken neck or a punctured lung?  Always valuable learnings for a priest, right?

But unfortunately on-calls also included being with families as their loved one died.  I will never forget waiting with a family at my first death nor will I ever forget being with a family as they "pulled the plug" on a loved one.  All these things were tough to be present with, but in the back of my head, I always have the faith that the dead are going to a mansion with many rooms, where there is no pain and suffering.  All the deaths I was present for were sacred times, filled with great sadness and pain, but I tried to bring families comfort and solace in knowing their loved one was no longer in pain or discomfort.  I will never forget the time a man, about my age, looked at me and said, "you must be numb to this, after seeing death so often?"  The only response I could give him was that death is always numbing, and yes I don't have the same feelings of sadness because it is not my loved one that is dying in that room.

Over this summer I saw death come in many shapes and sizes, from the very young to the very old and all ages in between.  I sat and listened to people as they reviewed their lives and spoke of the happiness they had, but also I listened to people as they tried to bargain with death since they were not ready to die.  What I learned about death this summer is that it is inevitable.  We are all going to die and that each day we get one step closer to that day. Death does not discriminate based upon age, race, color or anything else.  It merely arrives whether we are ready or not.

The memories and learnings of this summer will always be present with me and for that I thank everyone that allowed me to walk with them on their journey.  It was a privilege to be a perfect stranger and be allowed into their lives sharing their deepest darkest secrets and fears with me.  It is something I never will forget and something that has changed the person I am.

Thank you

My CPE classmates

Seminary Finals Haikus

Twila, also a seminarian and friend has decided to take a break by writing Haikus this afternoon.  I asked her if I could share them with you.  Welcome to finals week at CDSP!


Seminary Finals Haikus

Anoint sleepy eyes,
to keep studying this day.
Exams not yet done.

A consignation:
Baptized, confirmed to study,
things asked not again.

In history write
something ecumenical –
good for extra points.

Catechesis time:
Old church stuff explodes in brain.
A rite of passage

How does this relate
to serving poor, sick, hungry?
Help me understand.

Where does the truth hide?
Surely it is here somewhere,
on all these post-its.

Ecclesial plea:
Initiation, end soon.
Second year coming.

Grace? Peace? Where, oh where?
Put me in a quiet cell.
Too much studying.

Why can’t I keep thoughts
in my head like in a file,
ready for this test?

Grant us wisdom, God,
for we really need your help.
Words, answers. Amen.

Another page, Lord,
I know not what it will bring.
Make me ready, Lord.

On this test, dear Lord,
please give me strength to answer.
Rightly would be good.

Hear our cries, O God,
We are groaning and weary.
Show us promised end.

When this term is done,
every paper and exam,
resurrect me, God.

Open Cathedral Easter

Well it has been a while since I have posted and I apologize.  I started the semester taking six classes and about half way through the semester realized that I was slowly killing myself.  I decided to drop a class but the damage of the stress had already taken its toll.  I ended up getting a stomach infection that caused me not to eat for a week.  I was unable to completely function for a week but it helped me put things into perspective.  Without my health, I can't do anything so I must take care of myself first.  How can a priest offer guidance and care if they don't care for themselves first.
But now I'm back, rehabilitated and ready for the last two assignments of the semester.  All I have remaining between me and the end of my first year is a final exam in New Testament studies and a paper for History of Christianity 2.  As you can tell, I am procrastinating doing both but I thought I would give you a taste of the paper I am writing.  I am still writing it so if you have any good ideas for the paper please let me know. What follows is my thesis paragraph.  Hope you enjoy.

            The protestant reformation in Europe began with disagreements over the doctrine of the Catholic Church.  As the reformation continued to grow and spread, King Henry VIII of England defended the Roman Catholic Church and was awarded the title “Defender of the Faith.”  But within a few years, Henry and his supporters were beginning a reformation of their own.  While it is a belief that the English Reformation was a separate and distinct entity than the European Reformation, in actuality it was an offspring of the European Reformation.  The leading theologian of the English Reformation, Thomas Cranmer was influenced by the continental reformers of the time and used their writings to help shape the doctrine of the Church of England.  This paper will discuss the effects the continental reformers had on shaping the thoughts of Thomas Cranmer, as they became doctrine within the Church of England’s Book of Common Prayer.   It will then examine how those same thoughts continue to shape The Episcopal Church’s Book of Common Prayer and the church’s search for ecumenism within the United States.

Until next time, Peace.

Five Days that Changed a Life

It is Easter Sunday.  The day is almost over and tomorrow classes begin once again.  Tomorrow I go back  to my normal routine of reading, writing and classes. Yet, I will never forget the past five days.  Prior to arriving at CDSP, the word Triduum was not in my vocabulary. It was not something that I would ever have thought I would use in a sentence, let alone write a blog post about.  But once again I have been proven wrong.

Holy week, beginning with Palm Sunday and ending with Easter Sunday has always been a special time. The celebration of Jesus triumphant entry into Jerusalem, the parade around church properties singing "All Glory Laud and Honor" followed by Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, Easter Vigil and Easter Sunday.  This year though it has special meaning.  It is probably the last year when I won't be required to work in a parish.  This is the last time that I will be allowed to worship as a member of the congregation rather than as a member of the altar party.  With that in mind, a fellow student, Twila and I decided to ask around the seminary community which parishes had the best service for each of the days.  We got varying answers but many people could agree on certain churches. With that information, we decided to plot out our plan of attack, beginning on Wednesday.

My grandmother, Catherine, passed away last year on April 15 and she had always spoken of the Tenebrae service she attended at her church.  I had never attended one so we decided to start there on Wednesday night at St. Mark's Church in Berkeley.  It was a moving service with lots of chanting and ending in darkness.  During the service I listened intently and could feel my grandmother looking down from heaven.  It was pretty moving for me.

Maundy Thursday we went back to St. Mark's again for their service.  During this service, the priests washed the feet of the parishioners just as Jesus had done for his disciples over 2000 years ago.  I have been to these services in the past and knew what to expect even still St. Mark's service was touching. I have never gone forward to have my feet washed and I am still trying to understand the practice.  After the foot washing the entire church was stripped bear and we all left in darkened silence.

Thursday night an altar of repose was set up in the chapel and seminarians took turns praying in the chapel.  I prayed from 6:30 - 7:30 am and spent much time in mediation and contemplation.  In my life, the time was a great respite from the hustle and bustle of life.  My hour of prayer was followed by morning prayer at 7:30.

For Good Friday, we were told to go to St Mary's in San Francisco.  During this service I was moved to tears.  It was a service like I have never attended.  After the gospel was read, the cross was carried in church and laid on the floor at the base of the altar.  In our bulletins, we were given a piece of paper to write something we wished to pray for.  We then took turns walking to the cross, kneeled down, prayed and placed our paper at the base of the cross.  While this practice was something I had seen before in other settings, I never seen it done during a Good Friday service.  After everyone had placed their prayers at the foot of the cross, the choir sang an anthem.  These are the words:

Rest well, you sacred limbs,

for which I no longer weep - - 

rest well,

and bring me also to my rest.

The grave that is allotted to you,

and contains no further suffering,

opens heaven for me and shuts off hell.

For me, I finally had prayer for something that I have been burdened with and carried for many years.  It was a time to leave them at the foot of the cross and then to hear the choir sing the words, Rest well, you sacred limbs, for which I no longer weep were more than I could take.  It was like a damn had broken and I was freed.  I will never forget that night or that place as a place where I was able to let go of the guilt I carried for far too long.

  

Saturday is the Easter Vigil.  Third and final service of the Triduum.  This service begins where the Good Friday service ends and by the end of the service marks the beginning of Easter.  It is when the light of Christ is brought back into the church after having been extinguished on Thursday night.  For the Vigil, we went to St. Gregory's.  St. Gregory's is a church like no other.  All I can say is that if you are ever in San Francisco, you need to worship at St Gregory's at least once.  The service began at 8:00 pm and was over at 11:15.  Twila and I had to quickly leave in order to catch the last bus back to Berkeley.  

Today for Easter, we decided to try Christ Church, a church of the Nippon Sei Ko Kai, the anglican church of Japan.  The service was in English but the majority of the congregation is of Japanese descent.  It was a wonderfully moving service with two baptisms.  From there we decided to have a Easter feast of Sushi and then take the bus back to Berkeley.

Something changed our minds though.  We felt called to witness another Easter service though.  It was during this second Easter service, that I know I met the Risen Christ.  I have spoken about Open Cathedral in the past but today was different.  In the heart of San Francisco on a small walkway between a federal building and another building, about 75 people mainly homeless gathered to celebrate Easter.  Here among the people that most of society would call "the least of these" I witnessed community like no other.  We sang praise songs, heard a sermon that felt like I had stepped into a revival, and then broke bread.  During the entire service, some people walked up to join us, other got scared by the looks of the people and turned the other way, and yet others merely walked by as if nothing was happening.  Yet, as we worshipped and prayed, the members of that congregation poured out their hearts for all the people who have less then them.  A group of homeless men and women praying for others.  There was not one ounce of pity among them.  In fact they were praising God that they were alive and doing well.  I wish that I could have just one tenth of the grace and kindness that they had.  If more of the population could model their behavior, the world would be a much better place.  I left that service knowing that Christ is alive in well in that small part of San Francisco.

This morning, during the baptisms, we renewed our baptismal covenant.  In those covenants, we are asked to proclaim the Good News of God in Christ, seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving our neighbor as ourselves and strive for justice and peace among all people, respecting the dignity of every human being.  Although I am tired from attending these services, I am also leaving Holy Week refreshed.  Refreshed because I have a newfound strength for my personal call.  A call that I feel is to help Christians everywhere live into the Baptismal Covenant that we make with God.  But I know that I can't do this alone and for that I answer my call with the same answer we give to our baptismal covenant, I will, with God's help.

May you all have a Blessed Eastertide!

Jesus Triumphant Entry

The Liturgy of the Palms

Today marks the beginning of holy week, a time when we hear the stories and walk with Jesus on the path to his crucifixion and resurrection.  The reading from Mark that began this morning’s service tells of Jesus preparation and entry into Jerusalem.  In some translations of the bible, this story is entitled Jesus triumphant entry.  This title has always puzzled me, what is so triumphant about it?

Two different takes on this story include Andrew Lloyd Webber’s rock opera, Jesus Christ Superstar and our own entry into the santuary this morning.  In Jesus Christ Superstar, Jesus enters a town with crowds of people walking around him shouting Hosanna and waving palm fronds.  It is a joyous and raucous parade.   Similarly, we began this service commemorating the entry into Jerusalem by reading marks gospel story, blessing our palms and then parading around the church singing, All glory laud and honor.  In it, we sang the words, “thou art the king of Israel, thou David’s royal son, who in the Lord’s name comest, the king and blessed one.”  The whole sequence of events this morning is an indication of how the church celebrates Jesus entry. We read the words of Mark telling of Jesus entry and then as a congregation, we act upon those words.  We move out into the world in procession before returning to the church to continue the celebration.  During OUR celebration, we recognize that Jesus is entering Jerusalem as the Messiah, the King.  The long awaited savior has arrived and His time has come.  Yet, this celebration is short lived because immediately afterward this point, we read the entire passion story ending with Jesus death on a cross. But lets not get ahead of ourselves, I want to stay in Palm Sunday.  Because Holy Week has only just begun.

What must it have been like to be present when Jesus entered Jerusalem? For just a few minutes, let’s think about that. 

You are in Jerusalem, a city occupied by the Romans, THE imperial power.  It is Passover, a time when many people are making pilgrimage to Jerusalem.  A time when the people commemorate the exodus from slavery, it is a celebration of freedom and redemption. You are peasants standing on a dirt road outside the city walls.  In the distance you see people running into the street to meet a large group of people, probably another group of pilgrims. It seems this isn’t a normal group though.  You begin to hear people whispering comments, comments you strain to hear, but can’t.  Slowly you begin to recognize that leading the group is a man.  This man isn’t walking though, he is riding on a colt, possibly a young donkey so small that the man’s feet are dragging on the ground.  You are confused, why a colt, a symbol of peace?  As the group of people nears, the excitement continues to build.  You see other people running from the fields and placing palm fronds on the ground in front of him.  Still others are removing their cloaks and placing them on the ground in front of the group.  Your cloak is your identity, a part of who you are.  Is this man royalty?  Only kings get this type of greeting.  Finally the group is close enough that you see the man on the colt in the center.  He is not royalty, He is dirty and wearing only a tunic.  You can’t make out what he is saying or doing but you now can understand what the crowd is saying.  They are shouting, Hosanna, Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord, Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David. Hosanna in the highest heaven.  Again something is strange, the crowd is singing songs, typical of the pilgrims heading to the temple.   As the procession nears you, you have a decision to make?  Should I remove my cloak and place it on the road?  Why are the people shouting Hosanna? Do you recognize whom this person is that is riding into town on a colt?

Today’s liturgy of the palms is about just that.  Recognizing the person coming into town on a colt.  How do WE recognize the face of Jesus?  Jesus triumphant entry is as much about Jesus entering the city of Jerusalem as it is about the reaction of the people.  They were treating Jesus as royalty, a king.  The people on the road into Jerusalem gave of themselves in order to praise Jesus not knowing what would happen next.  They gave of themselves expecting nothing in return.  Just like the peasants on the road put down their cloaks and palms, we too are called to do the same.  We are called to give of ourselves.   This giving takes many different forms.  For some it is service to an underserved population, to others it can be performing random acts of kindness, and yet to others it can be paying a good deed forward.   It is in this selfless giving that we are closest to the people of Jerusalem that day.  For the people of Jerusalem, cloaks were precious property.  What are our cloaks, the things we wrap our identities it.  As we begin our holy week walk with Jesus, I leave you with question,

Would you take off your cloak and lay it on the road?  Throughout this Holy Week,  What does it mean to lay our identities at the foot of Christ?

Jay Walton, 4/2/2012, Preaching the Revised Common Lectionary, Pacific School of Religion