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A Palm Sunday Reflection

 



Sometimes I like to remind myself that the next step is simply to invite God in. As I gaze upon the mess I've made of things: the words hastily spoken, the thoughts that have ruled my mind, my quick resolve to act and fix it all (without a single nod in a heavenly direction,) often the most effective practice I can muster is to stop, survey the damage, then invite God into it. I'm capable of much without God. And most of the time, after I've displayed my awesome capabilities, my invitation begins with that time tested prayer, "help!"

Today, in Mark, we see a different kind of invitation unfold. With consequences that continue to shove themselves into our lives today.

Here comes the King, riding his donkey into a city literally cheering him on.

This turbid mixture of Mark's, churning with prophecy, tradition, and celebration, creates a bit of a confusing setting. One could preach on this passage every day for the next few years and never cease finding a new connection to the Hebrew Scriptures or unearthing some forgotten ritual that effectively shines a new light on this old story. The complexity provides a rich backdrop for a very simple practice: welcoming the Christ. Sometimes we need to invite. But sometimes he just shows up, so it's appropriate to welcome him in.

We observe how this is done in this passage: "...many spread their cloaks on the road, and others spread leafy branches that they had cut from the field" (Mark 11:8). What's the significance of these items? Myriad. What struck me in today's reading was the simple thought that these things were the things they had on them. The first uncomfortable question intruding on my quiet reverie: what do you have on you? A device, a coat to stave off a stubborn winter, an intentionally chosen necklace... I have a lot. So to welcome the king, it may be appropriate to lay the stuff we're holding down.

Not all of us have jobs which regularly make us aware of our body language, our posture, our own presence. Like a president with no military experience learns to salute with integrity and dignity, like a judge learns to enter every room to a standing ovation (even after she's off the clock,) like a priest who absolves his flock while unconsciously twiddling his thumbs, there is significance to how we go about our daily movements. Dostoevsky has recently reminded me of the richness of the Orthodox tradition in this regard. As his protagonist bows down to kiss the toe of a tearful holy fool, Dostoevsky ties together the emotional grief of suffering to this holistic posture of submission and reverence. What is the significance of laying something down? The posture of submission. The posture of reverence. The posture of welcome. To welcome the king, it may be appropriate to stoop as we lay down what we hold in our hands.

What is said to welcome the king? "Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the coming kingdom of our father David! Hosanna in the highest!" (Mark 11:9-10). Simple words with no simple origin, echoing across pages of Israel's harrowing history. Hosanna is a prayer with a etymological connection to save, rescue, savior. An appropriate prayer for a king on whom many different expectations rested. Save.  Salvation enters the city to people who are bowing to empty their hands, shouting prayers of earnest hope to be saved.

The King enters the city. And later that evening, people gather up their things again. How quick we are to pick up our phones, our coats, and our palms.  

The King enters the city. And at some point, everybody stands back up to return home. And how quickly we pull ourselves back up, returning to the posture of our habitual stride and swagger.

The King enters the city. And days later, the chorused hosanna becomes a crowd's cackle to crucify. How quickly do we raise our voices and fists to match the mob's energy. The King enters to meet the change in pitch as our voices which shout for salvation become voices which cry to kill.

The point is not that we change, forget, and go back to who we were...

The point is that the King has entered the city.

Our changeable posture, possessions, and voices cannot alter his triumphal entry. 

Because he has entered the city at this one point in history, today we can welcome him again. 

I invite you now to do this very thing. And I do not mean metaphorically. 
1. Pick up your things and lay them down. 
2. Practice posture of welcome. Bow down. 
3. Raise your voice this Triumphal Entry Sunday:

Praise be the high King of the universe. 
Who entered the city to bring resurrection and life.
We welcome you, King Jesus.
Reign in us.
Reign around us.
Reign through us.

Hosanna! 
Hosanna! 
Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! 
Blessed is the coming kingdom of our father David! 
Hosanna in the highest!

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