Fr. Jude Botelho:
In the first part of the service we remember Jesus’
triumphant entry into Jerusalem acclaimed by all the people. We could dwell on
the thoughts of those who were present there. Firstly there are the disciples
and the crowds, which were growing in their admiration of Jesus the master.
They must have been particularly happy to see their master thus publicly
acknowledged by the multitude. Then there are the Jewish leaders who understood
what was happening as the crowds proclaimed: “Hosanna to the Son of David.”
They wanted Jesus to silence the crowd but he didn’t. Then there is Jesus
himself and his thoughts were very different from those of his disciples and
the crowd. He did gratefully accept the praises of the people since they were
sincere, but these praises did not make him proud. He still remained humble and
that is the reason he comes on a donkey fulfilling the prophecy of Zechariah.
Triumph and Tragedy
In 1978 President Anwar Sadat of Egypt and Prime Minister
Menachem Begin shared the Nobel Peace Prize. The award was given to them for
their joint efforts to reduce Mideast hostilities by framing and signing the
U.S. mediated Camp David Peace accord. The agreement was an unprecedented move
on Sadat’s part because he was the first major Arab leader to accept Israel’s
existence as a sovereign state. Only five years earlier, in 1973, he was hailed
as a hero for successfully sending Egyptian forces across the Suez Canal to
recapture Israeli-occupied territories. But in 1978 Sadat was called a traitor
by Arab radicals. President Sadat was assassinated by some Arab extremists in
1981. Ironically, he was killed while viewing a parade to celebrate the
anniversary of the 1973 battle that had made him an Arab hero. The life and
death of Anwar Sadat suggest some striking similarities to the life and death
of Jesus, similarities that stand out on Palm Sunday. For both Sadat
and Jesus had loyal followers who acclaimed them, but also enemies who
eventually killed them. Both men entered their final scene to sounds of
triumph, only to depart from it on a note of tragedy.
Albert Cylwicki in ‘His Word Resounds’
In the first reading the prophet Isaiah, who lived seven hundred years before
Christ, wrote about the sufferings of the suffering servant in such detail that
one would have thought that he was an eye witness of the passion and death of
Jesus Christ himself. The spirit of God prompted him to say and write as he
did. In particular, in today’s reading Isaiah will highlight one key aspect of
the suffering servant of Yahweh that he would be obedient and uncomplaining in
his acceptance of whatever he had to endure. In all that he suffered he would
trust in his Father and surrender to His will. As we listen to the narrative of
the passion we need to remind ourselves that the gospels were not written at a
stretch but gradually. The account of the passion, death and resurrection of
Jesus were among the very first sections of the Gospels to be put into writing
as nothing was dearer to the followers than to recall and relive the very last
moments of Jesus and all that he had said and done before he died. On listening
to the narrative of the passion, those Christians and millions of others were
empowered and fortified to remain faithful to Jesus in times of persecution. We
too, as we listen to the narrative of the passion will find the courage and
strength to carry our own crosses and follow after him. As we enter into his
passion we need to make an act of faith. During Holy Week Jesus comes in a
special way not only to listen to us but also to speak to us and to work in us
and through us. Times have changed and the settings have changed. There are no
apostles and no Jews but we have taken their place. Jesus is undergoing his
passion today through the people who suffer: those who are unjustly condemned
to death; those who are betrayed by their very own; those who suffer for their
stand against aggression, injustices, human rights; those who are manipulated
by power hungry forces; those who are the victims of war; victims of terrorism.
The narrative of the passion is unfolding in our very times. May our meditation
on the passion and death of Jesus Christ lead us and all those who suffer into
the fullness of the Resurrection.
The people, in them I see the face of God…
In one of his plays Padraig Pearse tells the story of Mac Dara, the Singer, who
returns home and tells his old school teacher Maolsheachlann about his loss of
faith. “Once as I knelt at the cross of Kilgobbin it became clear to me with
awful clearness, that there was no God. Why pray after that? I burst into a fit
of laughter at the folly of men in thinking there is a God. I felt inclined to
run through the village and cry aloud, “People, it is all a mistake. There is
no God…” Then I said, ‘Why take away their illusion? If they find there is no
God, their hearts will be as lonely as mine.’ So I walked the roads with my
secret.” To which Maolsheachlann replied, “Mac Dara, I am sorry for this. You
must pray, you must pray. You will find God again. He has only hidden his face
from you.” “No,” said Mac Dara, “He has revealed his face to me… the people,
Maolsheachlann, the dumb, suffering people… In them I saw or seemed to see
again the face of God.” In the people, and his concern that his unbelief might
disturb their simple faith, Mac Dara rediscovered the face of God. James A
Feeban from ‘Story Power’
Do you think he loved me?
Manning and Brennan were part of a platoon in Vietnam making their way through
the jungle when, suddenly, Manning was sent flying into the bushes, when
Brennan threw himself on the ground. There was a terrific explosion, as a
landmine blew Brennan to bits, and Manning escaped without a mark. Manning was
deeply shocked, of course, but he was also profoundly overcome that his friend
had sacrificed his own life for him. His right foot was just about to come down
on the mine when Brennan spotted it, and dived. His intention was to get
Manning out of the way, but it was impossible to do that without throwing
himself in the line of fire. When Manning returned to the US, he joined a
branch of the Franciscans called Canons Regular and took ‘Brennan’ as his
religious name. Some years after his ordination, he was visiting the mother of
his friend Brennan, who was now quite old. She was a quiet little woman, and
constant prayer was her daily sustenance. By way of saying something during a
lull in the conversation, Manning turned to her and asked, “Do you think that
he really loved me?” The quiet little woman sprang to life, was on her feet,
and was pointing a finger into his face as she spoke with a clear firm voice:
“Don’t you ever ask me that question again. Of course he loved you. Didn’t he
die for you? What further proof could you need?” Jack McArdle in ‘And that’s the Gospel truth’
I have already died
Henri Nouwen tells of a Lutheran Bishop who was imprisoned in a German
concentration camp and was beaten by an SS Officer in order to extract a
confession from him. The beatings continued to increase in intensity, but the
bishop maintained his silence. Finally, the infuriated officer shrieked, “Don’t
you know that I can kill you?” The bishop looked into the eyes of his torturer
and said, “Yes, I know – but I have already died.” It was as if power over the
bishop had been taken from him. All his cruelties had been based on the
assumption that the bishop’s physical life was his most precious possession and
therefore he would be willing to make any concession to save it. But with the
grounds for violence gone, torture was futile. Anthony Castle in ‘More Quotes and Anecdotes’
Ready to die that others may live
There was a report of a coal mining accident. Many miners escaped with their
lives, but three men were trapped somewhere deep within the earth’s crust.
Whether they were dead or alive no one knew. What made the accident even more
frustrating was the presence of intense heat and noxious gases within the mine
itself. If the rocks had not crushed them, they very well would have been
asphyxiated by the fumes or killed by the heat. Two days went by before a
search expedition was allowed to even enter the mine because of heat and fumes.
Even then there was a great danger in store for anyone who would dare descend
into what could be a deep black grave. A brief interview was conducted with one
as he was preparing to enter the mine. A reporter asked him, “Sir, are you
aware of the noxious gases and the extreme danger of the mines.” The fireman
replied, “Yes, I am aware.” The reporter asked again,” Are you still going
down?” And the man replied, “The men may still be alive.” Without another word
of explanation he put on his gas mask, climbed into the elevator and descended
into the black mine. That rescuer put his life on the line that others might
live. That’s what Jesus did – by entering Jerusalem, He put his life on the
line that others might have life. John Rose in ‘John’s Sunday Homilies’
You have destroyed my finest plant
The story is told of a little girl who while walking in a garden noticed a
particularly beautiful flower. She admired its beauty and enjoyed its
fragrance. “It’s so pretty!” she exclaimed. As she gazed on it, her eyes
followed the stem down to the soil in which it grew. “This flower is too pretty
to be planted in such dirt!” she cried. So she pulled it up by its roots and
ran to the water faucet to wash away the soil. It wasn’t too long before the
flower wilted and died. When the gardener saw what the little girl had done, he
exclaimed, “You have destroyed my finest plant!” “I’m sorry, but I didn’t like
it in that dirt,” she said. The gardener replied, “I chose that spot and mixed
the soil because I knew that only there it would grow to be a beautiful flower.” John Pichappilly in ‘Ignite Your Spirit’
We join our sufferings to those of Christ… then they make sense
A.J. Cronin tells of his days as a medical officer to the Welsh mining company
in his book Adventures in Two Worlds. I have told you of Olwen Davies,
the middle aged district nurse who for more than twenty years with fortitude
and patience, calmness and selflessness, served the people of Tregenny. This
unconscious selflessness, which above all seemed the keynote of her character,
was so poorly rewarded, it worried me. Although she was much beloved by the
people, her salary was most inadequate. And late one night after a particularly
strenuous case, I ventured to protest to her as we drank a cup of tea together.
“Nurse,” I said, “Why don’t you make them pay you more? It is ridiculous that
you should work for so little.” She raised her eyebrows slightly. But she
smiled. “I have enough to get along.” “No, really,” I persisted, “you ought to
have an extra pound a week at least. God knows you are worth it.” There was a
pause. Her smile remained, but her gaze held a gravity which startled me.
“Doctor,” she said, “if God knows I am worth it, that’s all that matters to
me.” – Are we content to do our work in silence, knowing that God knows our
efforts, and sufferings? Gerard Fuller in ‘Stories for All Seasons’
*****
From Fr. Tony Kadavil’s Collection:
1: Zechariah foresaw it. Jesus fulfilled it. The
Greek author Plutarch describes how Kings are supposed to enter a city. He
tells about one Roman general, Aemilius Paulus, who won a decisive victory over
the Macedonians. When Aemilius returned to Rome, his triumphant procession
lasted three days. The first day was dedicated to displaying all the artwork
that Aemilius and his army had plundered. The second day was devoted to all the
weapons of the Macedonians they had captured. The third day began with the rest
of the plunder borne by 250 oxen, whose horns were covered in gold. This
included more than 17,000 pounds of gold coins. Then came the captured and
humiliated king of Macedonia and his extended family. Finally, Aemilius himself
entered Rome, riding in a magnificent chariot. Aemilius wore a purple robe,
interwoven with gold. He carried his laurels in his right hand. He was
accompanied by a large choir singing hymns, praising the military
accomplishments of the great Aemilius. (http://www.sigurdgrindheim.com/sermons/king.html)
That, my friends, is how a King enters a city. But the King of Kings? He
entered riding on a lowly donkey. Zechariah envisioned the King of Kings, the
Messiah, coming not on a great stallion, but riding on a humble donkey.
Zechariah foresaw it (Zec 9: 9). Jesus fulfilled it.
(http://www.tosapres.com/sermons.php?sermon=96)
2: Welcome to the triumph and the tragedy of Holy
Week: On Palm Sunday, April 9, 1865, Confederate General Robert E. Lee
surrendered to Ulysses S. Grant, General of the Union Army, at the McLean house
in Appomattox, Virginia. This surrender ended the bloodiest war ever fought on
American soil. State against state, brother against brother, it was a conflict
that literally tore the nation apart. Five days later, on Good Friday, April
14, 1865, America’s most revered president, Abraham Lincoln, was shot and
mortally wounded by John Wilkes Booth in Ford’s Theatre. It was Lincoln who
wrote the 1863 Emancipation Proclamation that ended slavery in the U.S.
forever. It was Lincoln who wrote and gave The Gettysburg Address. Lincoln
hated war, but he was drawn into this one because he believed it was the only
way to save the nation. On Palm Sunday the war ended. Triumph. On Good Friday,
Abraham Lincoln became the first U.S. president to be assassinated. Tragedy.
Welcome to Holy Week. Welcome to the triumph and the tragedy of the six days
preceding Easter. (Surrender location corrected by Fr. Richard W. Frank, richardwfrank@yahoo.com)
3: “Either give up Christ or give up your jobs.” Constantine
the Great was the first Christian Roman emperor. His father Constantius I, who
succeeded Diocletian as emperor in AD 305, was a pagan with a soft heart for
Christians. When he ascended the throne, he discovered that many Christians
held important jobs in the government and in the court. So, he issued an
executive order to all those Christians: “Either give up Christ or give up your
jobs.” The great majority of Christians gave up their jobs rather than
disowning Christ. Only a few cowards gave up their religion rather than lose
their jobs. The emperor was pleased with the majority who showed the courage of
their convictions and gave their jobs back to them saying: "If you will
not be true to your God you will not be true to me either.” Today we join the
Palm Sunday crowd in spirit to declare our loyalty to Christ and fidelity to His
teachings by actively participating in the Palm Sunday liturgy. As we carry the
palm leaves to our homes, we are declaring our choice to accept Jesus as the
King and ruler of our lives and our families. Let us express our gratitude to
Jesus for redeeming us by His suffering and death through our active
participation in the Holy Week liturgy and our reconciliation with God and His
Church by repenting of our sins and receiving God's pardon and forgiveness from
Jesus through his Church.
21- Additional anecdotes for those interested in more
stories
1) Am I a donkey with a Christian name or one
carrying Christ? An interesting as well as challenging old fable
tells of the colt that carried Jesus on Palm Sunday. The colt thought
that the reception was organized to honor him. “I am a unique donkey,”
this excited animal thought. When he asked his mother if he could
walk down the same street alone the next day and be honored again, his
mother said, “No, you are nothing without Him who was riding you."
Five days later, the colt saw a huge crowd of people in the street.
It was Good Friday, and the soldiers were taking Jesus to Calvary. The
colt could not resist the temptation of another royal reception. Ignoring
the warning of his mother, he ran to the street, but he had to flee for his
life as soldiers chased him and people stoned him. Thus, the colt finally
learned the lesson that he was only a poor donkey without Jesus riding on
him. As we enter Holy Week, today’s readings challenge us to examine our
lives to see whether we carry Jesus within us and bear witness to him through
our living or whether we are Christians in name only.
2) Passion Sunday and the shadow of the cross: The
Bishop of Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris during the early part of the last century
was a great evangelizer who tried to reach out to unbelievers, scoffers, and
cynics. He liked to tell the story of a young man who would stand outside
the cathedral and shout derogatory slogans at the people entering to
worship. He would call them fools and other insulting names.
The people tried to ignore him but it was difficult. One day the parish priest
went outside to confront the young man, much to the distress of the
parishioners. The young man ranted and raved against everything the
priest told him. Finally, the priest addressed the young scoffer, saying,
“Look, let’s get this over with once and for all. I’m going to dare you
to do something and I bet you can’t do it.” And of course the young man
shot back, “I can do anything you propose, you white-robed wimp!” “Fine,”
said the priest. “All I ask you to do is to come into the sanctuary with
me. I want you to stare at the figure of Christ on His cross, and I
want you to scream at the very top of your lungs, as loudly as you can. ‘Christ
died on the cross for me, and I don’t care one bit.” So the young man went into
the sanctuary, and looking at the figure, screamed as loudly as he could,
“Christ died on the cross for me, and I don’t care one bit.” The priest
said, “Very good. Now do it again.” And again the young man
screamed, with a little hesitancy, “Christ died on the cross for me, and I
don’t care one bit.” “You’re almost done now,” said the
priest. “One more time.” The young man raised his fist, kept looking
at the crucifix, but the words wouldn’t come. He just could not look at
the face of Christ and say those words any more. The real punch line came when,
after he told the story, the Bishop said, “I was that young man. That
young man, that defiant young man was I. I thought I didn’t need God but
found out that I did.” (World Stories for Preachers and Teachers by William
J. Bausch).
3) In the footsteps of Jesus, the donkey-rider: There
is a biography of a man who was one of the most learned people of his
generation. He had two PhDs – one in philosophy, another in theology. Further,
he was a world-class musician, and concert halls around the world were sold out
when he went on tour. Then, to the surprise of everyone, he decided he wanted
to go to a medical college to earn yet another doctoral degree in medicine. As
soon as he had his medical degree, he left the comfortable surroundings of
Western Europe and went into the jungles of Africa. There he cleared away part
of the jungle and began building a clinic and a hospital. Once these were
built, he started providing medical care to the young and old of Africa. Many
years later, Dr. Albert Schweitzer won the Nobel Peace Prize for his ministry
of healing in the jungles of Africa. When he accepted the Nobel Peace Prize, he
shared with that distinguished crowd in Stockholm the reason he had built a
hospital in Africa. The reason was summed up, he stated in the first words he
always said to his native patients as they awakened from an operation. He would
say: "The reason that you have no more pain is because the Lord Jesus told
the good doctor and his wife to come to the banks of Ogooue River and help you.
If you owe thanks to anyone, you owe it to the Lord Jesus." Schweitzer
accepted the challenge to be a humble servant of Jesus Christ. And this is our
challenge - this is your challenge - this is my challenge in this Holy Week!
Look beyond your needs to the needs of others, and you will be on the road to
being a humble servant of Jesus Christ.
4) Hosanna leading to the cross: Biographer
and historian Gene Smith (1929-2012) in When the Cheering Stopped (Morrow,
1964), tells the story of President Woodrow Wilson and the events leading up to
and following World War I. When that war was over, Wilson, the 28th president
of the United States, was an international hero. There was a great spirit
of optimism abroad, and people actually believed that the last war had been
fought, and that the world had been made safe for democracy. On his first
visit to Paris after the war, Wilson was greeted by cheering mobs. He was
actually more popular than France’s own heroes. The same thing was
true in England and Italy. The cheering lasted about a year. Then
it gradually began to stop. At home, Woodrow Wilson ran into opposition
in the United States Senate, and his League of Nations was not ratified.
Under the strain of it all, the President’s health began to break. In the
next election his party was defeated. So it was that Woodrow Wilson, a
man who barely a year or two earlier had been heralded as the new world
Messiah, came to the end of his days a broken and defeated man. It’s a
sad story, but one that is not altogether unfamiliar. The ultimate reward
for someone who tries to translate ideals into reality is apt to be frustration
and defeat. It happened that way to Jesus. When he emerged on the
public scene he was an overnight sensation. On Palm Sunday leafy palm
branches were spread before him and there were shouts of
"Hosanna." But before it was all over, a tidal wave of
manipulated opposition welled up that brought Jesus to the cross.
5) “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy:” A father, Tim
Miller, writes about a time when he experienced what God surely experienced
that day on Calvary. Miller’s nine‑year‑old daughter Jennifer was looking
forward to their family’s vacation. But she became ill, and a long anticipated
day at Sea World was replaced by an all‑night series of CT scans, X‑rays, and
blood work at the hospital. As morning approached, the doctors told this
exhausted little girl that she would need to have one more test, a spinal tap.
The procedure would be painful, they said. The doctor then asked Tim Miller if
he planned to stay in the room. He nodded, knowing he couldn’t leave Jennifer
alone during the ordeal. The doctors gently asked Jennifer to remove all her
clothing. Then they curled her into a tiny ball. Tim says he buried his face in
hers and hugged her. When the needle went in, Jennifer cried. As the searing
pain increased, she sobbingly repeated, “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy,” her voice
becoming more earnest with each word. It was as if she were saying, “Oh Daddy,
please, can’t you do something?” Tim’ tears mingled with hers. His heart was
broken. He felt nauseated. Because he loved her, he was allowing her to go
through the most agonizing experience of her life, and he could hardly stand
it. In the middle of that spinal tap, his thoughts went to the cross of Christ.
What unspeakable pain both the Son and the Father went through, says Tim
Miller. [Edward K. Rowell, 1001 Quotes, Illustrations, and Humorous
Stories (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 2008), p. 180.] And it’s true. We
see Christ’s courage. And we see the Father’s amazing love poured out. And here
is the most astounding thing of all: it was all for us. We didn’t deserve it,
but Christ died for us.
6) Silent protest: Henri Nouwen tells a
disturbing story about a family he knew in Paraguay. The father, a doctor, was
active in protests against the military. He spoke out repeatedly against its
abuses of human rights. Local police took their revenge by arresting his teenage
son and torturing him until he was dead. It was a horrible crime. Townsfolk
wanted to turn the funeral into a huge protest march. But the doctor chose
another means of protest. The father displayed his son’s body in the local
church. However, he was not dressed in a fine suit. And the funeral director
applied no make-up. The father displayed his son as he had found him in the
jail. The son was naked, his body marked with scars from the electric shocks
and cigarette burns and beatings. It did not lie in a coffin but on the blood‑soaked
mattress from the jail. It was the strongest protest imaginable, for it put
injustice on grotesque display. (Rev. Tim Zingale’s website,
http://www.dodgenet.com/~tzingale/sermonb/goodfridayillustrations.html.) See
Christ hanging on the cross, showing all marks of cruel torture.
7) The scar on Harry Potter’s forehead: There
is, a villain in the Harry Potter series of magic novels, an evil wizard named
Lord Voldemort. At the end of the first book, Harry Potter learns that Voldemort
murdered both Harry’s parents when Harry was only a baby. He first murdered
Harry’s father and then tried to murder Harry, to be sure that Harry, as his
father’s heir, would not be a threat to Voldemort as he grew to maturity. But,
of course, he did not succeed in murdering Harry. When he tried to do so,
Harry’s mother threw herself in the way, taking the blow and dying in Harry’s
place. When Voldemort then tried to kill Harry, he could not. In fact, the
curse that he hurled at Harry rebounded onto Voldemort and drained him of his
powers. All he could do was leave a lightning-bolt scar across Harry’s
forehead. Because of his mother’s sacrificial love, Harry lived and Voldemort’s
powers were greatly diminished. Throughout the Harry Potter novels, others immediately
recognize young Harry because of his scar. Throughout the series Voldemort
makes repeated attempts to capture and kill Harry Potter, but each time he
fails. At last Harry asks the wise Headmaster of his school, Dumbledore, why
Voldemort could not kill him. This is what Dumbledore tells him: “Your mother
died to save you. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is
love. He didn’t realize that love as powerful as your mother’s for you leaves
its own mark . . . To have been loved so deeply, even though the person who
loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. It is in your very skin
. . . [Voldemort] could not touch you for this reason. It was agony to touch a
person marked by something so good.” [J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and
the Philosopher's Stone (Scholastic: 1998), p. 216.] The reason Harry
could not be killed was his mother’s sacrificial love for him. The reason you
and I can be victorious over sin and death is Christ’s sacrificial love for us.
That’s the reason Palm Sunday is so important to us. That is the reason Holy
Week is so important to us. It is not a scar on our forehead but the cross on
our altar that tells us that Someone died on our behalf. We are the recipients
of an everlasting love.
8) The King on an ass! Some of you heard my
story about the husband and the wife who had quarreled. It had been a
high-pitched quarrel, each digging heels in to preserve the position each had
vehemently taken. Emotions ran high. As they were driving to attend a family wedding
in a distant city both were nursing their hurt feelings in defensive silence.
The angry tension between them was so thick you could cut it with a knife. But,
then the silence was broken. Pointing to a donkey standing in a pasture out
beside the road, the husband sarcastically asked, “Relative of yours?” The wife
quickly replied, “By marriage!” In modern communication, the ass is a symbol
for awkwardness, dumbness, blundering ineptness, non-sophistication. Yet, an
ass plays a key role in the drama of Palm Sunday at which we’re looking today.
9) Palm/Passion Sunday: Philip Yancey, an
editor at Christianity Today magazine, grew up in a
fundamentalist Church which didn't observe the major events of Holy Week. He
never attended a Good Friday service and shied away from crucifixes because
they were "too Catholic." He writes, "The Church I grew up in
skipped past the events of Holy Week in a rush to hear the cymbal sounds of
Easter." (Christianity Today, September 9, 1996). We can
understand this desire to skip through Holy Week. Jesus on the cross is death;
Jesus risen is life! A sanctuary stripped bare for Good Friday is depressing; a
lily-bedecked sanctuary is glorious! Who doesn't want to skip through Holy
Week? Yet, the adult Philip Yancey has learned that the Bible "slows down
rather than speeds up when it gets to Holy Week." What people want to get
through quickly, the Bible takes slowly. One early Christian commentator went
so far as to say that the Gospels are actually the record of Jesus' final week
. . . with extended introductions. Here's the challenge for Holy
Week. We have but this Sunday to cover everything from Jesus entering Jerusalem
to "Hosannas," through the moment when Jesus was laid in a borrowed
tomb. Even the name for this Sunday reveals our challenge. Today is
"Palm/Passion Sunday." It's not "Palm or Passion Sunday,"
not even "Palm and Passion Sunday." It's Palm/Passion Sunday, two
different subjects jammed up against each other.
10) “Welcome home Mr. President.” Newsweek magazine
carried the story of the memorial service held for Hubert Humphrey (1911-1978),
former vice-president of the United States. Hundreds of people came from all
over the world to say good-bye to their old friend and colleague. But one
person who came was shunned and ignored by virtually everyone there. Nobody
would look at him much less speak to him. That person was former president
Richard Nixon. Not long before, he had gone through the shame and infamy of
Watergate. He was back in Washington for the first time since his resignation
(August 9, 1974), from the presidency. Then a very special thing
happened, perhaps the only thing that could have made a difference and broken
the ice. President Jimmy Carter, who was in the White House at that time, came
into the room. Before he was seated, he saw Nixon over against the wall, all by
himself. He went over to [him] as though he were greeting a family member,
stuck out his hand to the former president, and smiled broadly. To the surprise
of everyone there, the two of them embraced each other, and Carter said,
"Welcome home, Mr. President! Welcome home!" Commenting on
that, Newsweek magazine asserted, "If there was a turning
point in Nixon's long ordeal in the wilderness, it was that moment and that
gesture of love and compassion." The turning point for us is Palm Sunday.
It is our moment of triumph. It was a triumph because God, Jesus, decided to
ignore our miserable state and act on our behalf.
11) “Greater love has no one than this:” On
January 13, 1982 an airliner crashed into the icy waters of the Potomac River
near Washington, D.C. Seventy-nine people were aboard that ill-fated aircraft,
and of that number, only five survived. All of those survivors had something in
common: they owed their life to another passenger, a 46-year-old bank examiner
named Arland D. Williams Jr. Workers on the rescue helicopter sent to the crash
reported that Williams was one of only a half a dozen survivors clinging to
twisted wreckage bobbing in the icy Potomac when they arrived. Life vests were
dropped, then a flotation ball. Williams repeatedly spurned the safety line and
passed it on to the five others floating in the bitterly cold water. One by one
they were taken away to safety. By the time the helicopter crew could return
for Williams, however, both he and the plane’s tail section had disappeared
beneath the icy surface. He had been in the water for twenty-nine minutes with
five opportunities to be saved, but each time he deferred to another. His body
was later recovered. According to the coroner, Williams was the only passenger
to die by drowning; the rest died on impact. He did not so much lose his life
as gave it. When the helicopter pilot was interviewed later he described
Williams as a brave and good man. “Imagine,” said the rescue pilot, “he had
just survived that horrible plane crash. The river was ice-cold and each minute
brought him closer to death. He could have gone on the first trip but he put
everyone else ahead of himself.” The man was truly a hero. Later, the bridge
the plane hit on its way into the icy water was renamed. Today it is the
“Arland D. Williams Jr. Memorial Bridge.” (Rev. Ronald Botts, http://www.firstchurch.org/sermons/2003/2003070129.htm.
) “Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friend .
. .” That’s what sent Jesus to the cross.
12) "Jesus . . . loves . . . me . . . and . . . I .
. . love . . . Jesus." Author, speaker, teacher Tony Campolo
tells how he was asked to be a counselor in a junior high camp. He says
everybody ought to be a counselor at a junior high camp. A junior high kid's
concept of a good time, Tony says, is picking on people. "And in this particular
case, at this particular camp, there was a little boy who was suffering from
cerebral palsy. His name was Billy. And they picked on him." As Billy
walked across the camp with his uncoordinated body the other kids would line up
and imitate his grotesque movements. On Thursday morning it was Billy's cabin's
turn to give devotions. Tony wondered what would happen, because they had
appointed Billy to be the speaker. Tony knew that they just wanted to get Billy
up there to make fun of him. As Billy dragged his way to the front, you could
hear the giggles rolling over the crowd. It took him almost five minutes to say
seven words. These were the words: "Jesus . . . loves . . . me . . . and .
. . I . . . love . . . Jesus." When Billy finished, there was dead
silence. A revival broke out in that camp after Billy's short testimony. Tony
says that as he travels all over the world, he finds missionaries and preachers
who say, "Remember me? I was converted at that junior high camp." The
counselors had tried everything to get those kids interested in Jesus, says
Tony. They even imported baseball players whose batting averages had gone up
since they had started praying. But God didn't use the superstars. He chose to
use a kid with cerebral palsy. Why did I tell that story now? Because the
crowds, the Pharisees, the Sadducees, Herod, Pilate and everyone involved, even
the disciples, believed that the Cross was defeat. Everyone that is except
Jesus. Jesus knew that our God is a God of reversal who likes to take our
beliefs and stand them on their heads.
13) There was not one winner there were nine
winners. The one-time Methodist Bishop of Mississippi, Jack Meadors
tells a wonderful story of an incident that occurred during the Special
Olympics. Nine children lined up for the 100-yard dash. The gun sounded and the
race was off. But only a few yards into the race, one of the children fell and
began to cry. For some reason these challenged children did not understand the
world's concept of competition and getting ahead and taking advantage when a
competitor was down. The other eight children stopped running and came back to
their fallen comrade. A young girl with Down's syndrome kissed him and brushed
him off. The children lifted him up together, arm in arm, they ran over the
finish line. The audience rose to their feet in applause: there was not one
winner there were nine winners. For a fleeting moment these
children showed us what the Kingdom of God is like. They challenged the world's
concept that first place is everything. In the race that we're in, everyone
matters, particularly those who have fallen and are on the outside. Why did the
cheering stop? Because on Palm Sunday, Jesus opened the doors of the Church to
everyone. It angered some people then, and let me tell you, it will anger some
people today.
14) "What did the Christian's God do then?” On
Marco Polo's celebrated trip to the Orient, he was taken before the great and
fearsome ruler, Genghis Khan. Now what was Marco Polo supposed to do before
this mighty pagan conqueror? One false move could cost him his life. He decided
to tell the story of Jesus as it is recorded in the Gospels. It is said that
when Marco Polo related the events of Holy Week, and described Jesus' betrayal,
his trial, his scourging and crucifixion, Genghis Khan became more and more
agitated, more engrossed in the story, and more tense. When Marco Polo
pronounced the words, "Then Jesus bowed his head and yielded up his
spirit," Genghis Khan could no longer contain himself. He interrupted,
bellowing, "What did the Christian's God do then? Did he send thousands of
angels from heaven to smite and destroy those who killed his Son?" What
did the Christian's God do then?” He watched his beloved Son die, that's what
the Christian's God did then. For that was the way God chose for Jesus to
ascend the throne of his Kingdom and to establish his Lordship for all time.
Not at all the way we would expect God to demonstrate his might and power, but
that's the way it was, and that is how we know what our God is like. In
practical terms, that means that this suffering King, who rules in love, comes
to lay his claim on your life. Your entire life, is subject to his Lordship,
not just a portion of it. To have Christ be our King means that we rely on him
for everything, most of all the forgiveness of sins.
15) The Man Born to Be King Back
in the early 1940's, the British Broadcasting Company provided the people of
England with a real spiritual experience. These were the dark days during the
Second World War, and Dorothy L. Sayers' play, The Man Born to Be
King, was broadcast. The play portrays the life of Jesus in a reverent
and realistic way. I have read that skillful use of sound effects, such as the
scraping of a boat on the rocks around the Sea of Galilee and the dripping of
water in the basin as Jesus washed the disciples' feet, made the story come
astonishingly alive. The season of Lent affords us an excellent opportunity to
listen to some sounds - some sounds of the Passion. Over one-third of the
material in the four Gospels is devoted to that last week in the earthly life
of Jesus. We call this part of each Gospel the Passion Narrative, for it tells
of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem, the Last Supper, the arrest, the trials, the
crucifixion. Perhaps all this can come alive for us in a different way if we
turn off the picture and listen. We can use the ear instead of the eye, for if
we hear, we are more apt to be drawn in. If we only watch, we may be mere
spectators. So let's try to create a sound picture
16) Jesus weeps: In C.S. Lewis' Chronicles
of Narnia, the young boy Digory is heartbroken by the realization that his
mother is dying, and that he can do nothing to save her. He raises his
despairing face to the story's Christ-figure, the great Lion, Aslan, and is startled
to see the great shining tears in Aslan's eyes. "They were such big,
bright tears compared with Digory's own, that for a moment he felt as if the
Lion must be sorrier about his mother than he was himself." "My son,
my son," says Aslan. "I know grief is great. Only you and I in this
land know that yet. So let us be good to one another and take care of one
another." Wherever people grieve, Jesus weeps. Wherever children suffer,
Jesus weeps. Wherever lives are torn apart, and hearts are empty, and hope dies,
Jesus weeps.
17) Jesus shed tears: Remember what
Adlai Stevenson said when he lost his bid for the presidency? (Probably because
he was divorced. How far we have come!!) The reporters had asked him how it
felt. How was it supposed to feel? (I must confess I am more that a little
tired of reporters sticking microphones into the faces of grieving people and
asking them how they feel. I'm afraid that if any should ever do that to me, I
might explode and say something quite unministerial). But Stevenson seems to
have taken it in good humor. When asked how he felt, he replied, "I'm too
big to cry, and it hurts far too much to laugh." Where did we ever get the
notion that that bigger you are, the fewer tears you shed? I think that is the
opposite of Biblical truth. Jesus wept. It is possible that in some way far
beyond our understanding, even God can shed a few tears.
18) King for a day: Once upon a time, before
television, there was radio. One of the most popular daytime radio
programs in those days was called Queen for a Day. Each day
four or five women from the studio audience would tell the host what they would
like to do if they could be "Queen for a Day." Then, on
the basis of applause, one woman was chosen, and insofar as they were able, the
sponsors fulfilled her wildest desires. She was given a number of
valuable prizes and for one day she reigned as "Queen." That
sounds like what happened to Jesus, doesn’t it? Jesus was crowned
"King for a Day" on that first Palm Sunday.
19) Hostages saved: In March 1994, a young
man, armed with a handgun and a bomb, walked into the Salt Lake City Public
Library and took everyone hostage. The young man, Clifford Lynn Draper, seemed
at the time to be mentally unbalanced. He gathered up the people on the second floor
of the library and forced them all into a conference room. Among his hostages
was a man who had chosen to be there. This man was Lloyd Prescott, a local
policeman. Prescott had been on the first floor of the library when he heard
the news that an armed man had taken the second-floor hostage. He sneaked
upstairs and mingled in with the hostages who were being herded into the
conference room. Prescott knew that the best way to solve this situation was to
hide his own identity and become a hostage himself. Their young captor was
angry, violent, and unstable, but he eventually made the mistake that Lloyd
Prescott was waiting for. Prescott caught Draper by surprise and shot him,
saving the lives of all the other hostages. In the same way, our faith teaches us, that humanity was held hostage by sin and death. Christ was sent to infiltrate our
world in order to set us free. He was sent to break the yoke of sin that kept
us from being what God created us to be. We remember and celebrate these events
in Holy Week.
20) Vicarious suffering: When Mohandas
Mahatma Gandhi attempted to redeem his government from what he believed to be a
foolish, misguided path toward destruction, he took it upon himself to fast
until such time as people came to their senses and the situation was
ameliorated. Like the portrait of Dorian Gray, Gandhi’s physical deterioration
reflected the moral disintegration of his society. Finally, when it seemed as
if the holy man was about to breathe his last, the word came through, he had
succeeded in changing the hearts and minds of his fellow Indian citizens.
Gandhi’s willingness to suffer innocently and vicariously for the sake of
others had its precedent in the Suffering Servant described by Deutero-Isaiah
in today’s first reading. (Sanchez files).
21) The Passion of Jesus: The renowned spiritual
writer Henri Nouwen, shares how he once went to a hospital to visit a man dying
of cancer. The man was still relatively young and had been a very hardworking
and generative person. He was the father of a family and provided well for
them. He was the chief executive officer in a large company and took good care
of both the company and his employees. Moreover, he was involved in many other
organizations, including his Church, and, because of his leadership abilities,
was often the one in charge. But now, this once-so-active man, this person who
was so used to being in control of things, was lying on a hospital bed, dying,
unable to take care of even his most basic needs. As Nouwen approached the bed,
the man took his hand. It’s significant to note the particular frustration he
expressed: “Father, you have to help me! I’m dying, and I am trying to make
peace with that, but there is something else too: You know me, I have always
been in charge—I took care of my family. I took care of the company. I took
care of the Church. I took care of things! Now I am lying here, on this bed and
I can’t even take care of myself. I can’t even go to the bathroom! Dying is one
thing, but this is another! I’m helpless! I can’t do anything anymore!” Despite
his exceptional pastoral skills, Nouwen, like any of us in a similar situation,
was left rather helpless in the face of this man’s plea. The man was undergoing
an agonizing passivity. He was now a patient. He had once been active, the one
in charge; and now, like Jesus in the hours leading up to his death, he was
reduced being a patient, one who is ministered to by others. Nouwen, for his
part, tried to help the man see the connection between what he was undergoing
and what Jesus endured in his passion, especially how this time of
helplessness, diminishment, and passivity is meant to be a time where we can
give something deeper to those around us. Among other things, Nouwen read the
Passion narratives of the Gospels aloud to him because what this man was
enduring parallels very clearly what Jesus endured in the hours leading up to
his death, a time we Christians entitle, “the Passion of Jesus.” What exactly
was the Passion of Jesus? As Christians, we believe that Jesus gave us both his
life and his death. Jesus gave his life for us in one way, through his
activity; he gave his death for us in another way, through his passivity, his
passion. (Fr. Ron Rolheiser). (L/18)
22) Donkey-
poem by BY G. K. CHESTERTON (Quoted by Sherin C.)
When fishes flew,
and forests walked
And figs grew
upon thorn,
Some moment when
the moon was blood
Then surely, I
was born.
With monstrous
head and sickening cry
And ears like
errant wings,
The devil’s
walking parody
On all
four-footed things.
The tattered
outlaw of the earth,
Of ancient
crooked will;
Starve, scourge,
deride me: I am dumb,
I keep my secret
still.
Fools! For I also
had my hour;
One far fierce
hour and sweet:
There was a shout
about my ears,
And palms before
my feet.
Sermons.com:
Some years ago, a book was written by Gene Smith, a noted
American historian. The title was "When The Cheering Stopped." It was
the story of President Woodrow Wilson and the events leading up to and
following WWI. When that war was over Wilson was an international hero. There
was a great spirit of optimism abroad, and people actually believed that the
last war had been fought and the world had been made safe for democracy.
On his first visit to Paris after the war Wilson was greeted
by cheering mobs. He was actually more popular than their own heroes. The same
thing was true in England and Italy. In a Vienna hospital a Red Cross worker
had to tell the children that there would be no Christmas presents because of
the war and the hard times. The children didn't believe her. They said that
President Wilson was coming and they knew that everything would be all right.
The cheering lasted about a year. Then it gradually began to
stop. It turned out that the political leaders in Europe were more concerned
with their own agendas than they were a lasting peace. At home, Woodrow Wilson
ran into opposition in the United States Senate and his League of Nations was
not ratified. Under the strain of it all the President's health began to break.
In the next election his party was defeated. So it was that Woodrow Wilson, a
man who barely a year or two earlier had been heralded as the new world
Messiah, came to the end of his days a broken and defeated man.
It's a sad story, but one that is not altogether unfamiliar.
The ultimate reward for someone who tries to translate ideals into reality is
apt to be frustration and defeat. There are some exceptions, of course, but not
too many.
It happened that way to Jesus....
Everybody loves a parade. I spent 10 of my growing up years
in Savannah, Georgia, where my father was the pastor of a church. On March 17th
of each year Savannah has the second largest St. Patrick's Day parade in the
country. The whole city turns out for the parade. They dye the river green.
Everybody wears green. They eat green grits. Some drink green - well,
beverages. For several years I went to that parade and enjoyed watching it. But
then when I was in the 10th grade I was in R.O.T.C., military training, and I
marched in that parade. No longer was I a parade watcher, a bystander. I became
a participant. Everyone loves a parade. Anyone can be a bystander. It takes a
little something extra to be a participant. They gave Jesus a parade in
Jerusalem a city filled with bystanders. There were not many who were willing
to participate in Jerusalem. That parade they gave Jesus was an insult.
Today is Palm Sunday and still we are haunted by those ambiguous feelings which
have to do with triumph and tragedy, victory and defeat, honor and dishonor.
Today is Palm Sunday and we remember, "Hosanna in the highest. Blessed is
he who comes in the name of the Lord." Today is Palm Sunday and there's a
crowd of people out there lining the street to welcome this Jesus to be King of
Jews. Today is Palm Sunday and he comes riding in on some young donkey like the
old kings of Israel centuries before as they entered the Holy City. Today is
Palm Sunday and some little boy who lives out in the country is the first one
to come running barefoot into town to tell us the news, "The King is
coming!" Jesus is coming down the road to Jerusalem. Today is Palm Sunday
and the king is coming. The king is coming and no one can remain neutral. The
king is coming and someone must decide.
The king is coming and you must make up your mind about him. The king is coming
and we can no longer remain the same - "something's gotta give."
Something has to change in our way of thinking. Something has to be different
about our loyalties. Something has to be renewed about our commitment.
Something has to be chosen above all those things vying for our attention. Palm
Sunday will not let us rest, will it? It confronts us always with a choice, for
always this king is coming to our city, in our place and time, for over and
over again we are Jerusalem. So on this Palm Sunday, I want to remind us of
what is before us today.
If we want to be bystanders parade watchers - palm waving, flag waving
Christians who go home after the parade and forget it, then we can do just
that. Drop in $10, pay our dues, have a good feeling, be at ease and let the
world go to hell. But, let me warn you. If you are serious about this Jesus
stuff, if you want to be a participant, then you had better watch out and
prepare yourself and get ready because these things are before us on this Palm
Sunday. As we think about Jesus coming down the road to Jerusalem would you be
aware of these things....
There Is Still Hope
The reality is that, if we figure to survive in this world,
we had better have hope. The ancients knew that. Do you remember Pandora?
Mythology has her as a lady endowed with every charm...the gift of all the gods.
She was sent to earth with a little box which she had been forbidden to open,
but curiosity finally got the better of her...she lifted the lid and out from
that box escaped every conceivable kind of terror. Pandora made haste to close
the box up again, but it was too late. There was only one thing left...HOPE.
That was the ancients' way of saying how important hope is. Even when all else
is lost, there is still hope.
This was what had sustained the Israelite faithful from
generation to generation. This was what energized the crowd along Jesus' parade
route that day.
David E. Leininger, Sunday's Coming!
_____________________
Creating Turmoil
In his book, The Freedom Revolution and the Churches, Robert
Spike recalls an incident from the early years of the turbulent civil rights
movement. Flying out of Jackson, Mississippi, Spike overhears the conversation
of a Catholic sister, sitting across the aisle from him, with her seat
companion. The sister is lamenting all the unrest in Mississippi, and she
complains about the "outside agitators," the students and church
leaders who have come to her state in support of civil rights, certain that
their presence is provoking violence on the part of white racists. "I do
not question their dedication, nor even the rightness of their position,"
said the sister. "But surely it is a bad thing to create turmoil by
stirring up people who feel differently." As the sister talks, all the
while she is nervously fingering a cross hanging around her neck.
There's a tragic irony in the sister's words and actions,
not unlike that of the first Holy Week. For the one whose cross the sister
holds most dear, Jesus, would never have taken the risk of going to Jerusalem
and proclaiming a new way of living, would never have confronted comfortable
patterns and ultimately endured the cross, had he followed the sister's
philosophy.
Joel D. Kline, What Did We See in Jesus?
_______________________
The Tomb Is Easier than the Cross
In just a matter of days Holy Week takes us from the
mountain of festive palms to the mountain of Golgatha's despair. And that is
why we resist it so. I mean, do we really need the emotional roller-coaster of
Holy Week? What's so wrong with just jumping from one parade to the next and
skipping all the sacrifice and death stuff? What's wrong with simply moving on
to the joy of Easter, with its white bonnets, Easter eggs, family, friends, big
ham dinner, and of course the empty tomb.
Well, I think we know the answer to that. For starters, an
empty tomb, at face value, is a lot easier to deal with than a dying, bleeding
Savior on a cross. Add to that all the pain and suffering that comes with Holy
Week, is it any wonder that the human tendency is to try and ignore the events
of the week and simply move on to the Easter celebration? But as much as we'd
like to skip Holy Week we know that the only way to Easter is through the
cross. We know where the parade of Palm Sunday leads and we also know that
we're part of that parade. That is to say, we know this intellectually. Our
hearts are another story. Our hearts may be more in sync with the disciples and
the fear and disbelief that led them to run away. It would seem that 2000 years
later Jesus' disciples are still running away.
Jeffrey K. London, And When You Think It's All Over
_______________________
A Donkey for the Master
One day an older woman, a bank executive, was walking past one of the offices at
the bank. She glanced in and saw a young woman sitting at her desk, crying. The
executive went in to see if she could help. "Nothing's that bad," she
said. "Tell me about it." The younger woman explained: "My
mother died about a month ago. Just this past weekend I became engaged. We have
planned a June wedding. But I don't know the first thing to do, and I don't
have a mother to help me." "Oh yes you do," said the executive.
"I'll be your mother!" As they hugged each other, an incredible
friendship was born--all because one person saw two things: a hurting person
and a ministry that she could provide.
Five hundred years from now, as we delight in the glory of God's kingdom, we
will not even remember how much money we earned on earth or how big our houses were
or whether we had much status or popularity. But we will celebrate forever
every single donkey we gave to the Master!
Bill Bouknight, Collected Sermons, www.Sermons.com
____________________
How a King Enters a City
The Greek author Plutarch describes how kings are supposed to enter a city. He
tells about one Roman general, Aemilius Paulus, who won a decisive victory over
the Macedonians. When Aemilius returned to Rome, his triumphant procession
lasted three days. The first day was dedicated to displaying all the artwork
that Aemilius and his army had plundered. The second day was devoted to all the
weapons of the Macedonians they had captured. The third day began with the rest
of the plunder borne by 250 oxen, whose horns were covered in gold. This
included more than 17,000 pounds of gold coins. Then came the captured and
humiliated king of Macedonia and his extended family. Finally, Aemilius himself
entered Rome, mounted on a magnificent chariot. Aemilius wore a purple robe,
interwoven with gold. He carried his laurels in his right hand. He was
accompanied by a large choir singing hymns, praising the military
accomplishments of the great Aemilius. That, my friends, is how a king enters a
city.
But the King of Kings? He entered riding on a lowly donkey. If he had consulted
his political advisors, they would have been aghast. What was he up to? Leaders
are supposed to project strength and power.
King Duncan, Collected Works, www.Sermons.com
_________________________________
What Is Good For Us Is Hidden
Martin Luther often spoke of this aspect of the theology of the cross,
concerning how God works in a hidden way through contrasts. In a series of
lectures that Luther gave in 1515 and 1516 on the Book of Romans, he wrote:
"For what is good for us is hidden, and that so deeply that it is hidden
under its opposite. Thus our life is hidden under death, love for ourselves
under hate for ourselves ... salvation under damnation, heaven under hell ...
And universally our every assertion of anything good is hidden under the denial
of it, so that faith may have its place in God, who is a negative essence and
goodness and wisdom and righteousness, who cannot be touched except by the
negation of all our affirmations."
Martin Luther had one more observation about why God operates this way - under
contrasts and opposites. In another of his sermons, he put it this way:
"He thrusts us into death and permits the devil to pounce on us. But it is
not his purpose to devour us; he wants to test us, to purify us, and to manifest
himself ever more to us, that we may recognize his love. Such trials and strife
are to let us experience something that preaching alone is not able to do,
namely, how powerful Christ is and how sincerely the Father loves us. So our
trust in God and our knowledge of God will increase more and more, together
with our praise and thanks for his mercy and blessing.
Otherwise, we would bumble along with our early, incipient faith. We would
become indolent, unfruitful and inexperienced Christians, and would soon grow
rusty."
Mark Ellingsen, Preparation and Manifestation, CSS Publishing
____________________
If I Can Be the Donkey...
Corrie Ten Boom was a famous Christian whose testimony of suffering in Nazi
concentration camps and God's grace through it all touched millions of lives. A
few years ago, in a press conference following a ceremony in which Corrie Ten
Boom was given an honorary degree, one of the reporters asked her if it was
difficult remaining humble while hearing so much acclaim. She replied
immediately, "Young man, when Jesus Christ rode into Jerusalem on Palm
Sunday on the back of a donkey, and everyone was waving palm branches and
throwing garments in the road and singing praises, do you think that for one
moment it ever entered the head of that donkey that any of that was for
him?" She continued, "If I can be the donkey on which Jesus Christ
rides in his glory, I give him all the praise and all the honor."
Mike Hamby, The Triumphal Entry
_______________________
Lose Yourself
What does a Christ-like mind look like as we live in the
world? We can see it clearly in the great saints and martyrs, such as Mother
Teresa or Albert Schweitzer. I'm drawn as well to the idea William Placher
suggests in his book "Narratives of a Vulnerable God" as he uses an
illustration from the world of basketball. Professor Placher writes, "In
basketball the players who are always asking, 'How am I doing? Am I getting my
share of the shots?' Those are the ones who never reach their full potential.
It is the players who lose themselves who find themselves. And it's that kind
of self-forgetfulness that makes the best players." And isn't that the
case with all of us in whatever we do?
I read about one of the fastest growing churches in the world, with branches in
32 countries already. It is called the Winners Church, and according to its
leaders, it lives by a motto that comes from America's religious culture.
Here's the motto: "Be happy. Be successful. Join the winners." People
flock to that kind of church, I guess. But it all depends, doesn't it, on how
we define winning? I wonder what kind of church you would have if your motto
were "Whoever wishes to be great among you must be your servant." Or
about this one for a motto, "Those who want to save their lives will lose
them and those who lose their lives for my sake, will find them."
Joanna Adams, A Beautiful Mind
______________________
Passion Sunday: Surprising and Inevitable
At a pre-concert lecture, the conductor of a symphony
orchestra was telling the audience about the major work that the orchestra
would be performing at that evening's concert. The conductor told the people
that if they listened carefully to the music, they would discover that it was
both surprising and inevitable. On the one hand, the musical score would take a
fair number of rather jarring and unexpected twists. There would be points in
the concert when the blare of the trumpet or the sudden rolling of the timpani
would seem to come from out of nowhere in a surprising fashion. On the other
hand, however, the conductor noted that in the long run, these surprises would
themselves become part of a larger coherence. Once listeners heard the entire
piece from start to finish, they would find in the music an air of
inevitability--how could it ever have been written any differently?
Surprising and inevitable. Palm Sunday and the events of Holy Week are both
surprising and inevitable. The truth is that we are not completely sure what to
make of Palm Sunday. After forty days of Lenten travel that have often focused
on serious and sometimes dark subjects, suddenly we arrive at a day that seems
at first blush to be surprisingly cheery. The Palm Sunday parade has color and
spectacle, cheering and singing, festive voices and joyful exuberance. This
seems like a happy day. Yet it would be completely appropriate if you were to
ask, "What in the world is this day doing here given how close we are now
to the cross!?" Is Palm Sunday a bright spot in the midst of the otherwise
darker hues of Lent? Are we, for just a little while this morning, supposed to
forget about all things dreary so that we can cry out some full-throated
"Hosannas!"? Or is there also a sadness to this day that we must bear
in mind?
Scott Hoezee, Comments and Observations
_______________________
We Are Responsible for a Dead Church
Some years ago, a new pastor was called to a spiritually dead church in a small
Oklahoma town. The pastor spent the first week calling on as many members as
possible, inviting them to the first Sunday service. But the effort failed. In
spite of many calls, not a single member showed up for worship! So the pastor
placed a notice in the local paper stating that since the church was dead, the
pastor was going to give it a decent, Christian burial. The funeral for the
church would be held at 2 p.m. on the following Sunday.
Morbidly curious, the whole town turned out for the "funeral." In
front of the pulpit, there was a large casket, smothered in flowers. After the
eulogy was given, the pastor invited the congregation to come forward and pay
their respects to the dead church. The long line of mourners filed by. Each one
peered curiously into the open casket, and then quickly turned away with a
guilty, sheepish look....
