Palm Sunday
The story of Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem and then, the obscene swiftness with which he was deliberately betrayed, arrested, denied, tried and crucified, is horrifying. We encounter the worst and best of humanity when we are under pressure, just as it is happening for so many people today and just as it has happened throughout human history.
Last week, we celebrated the Holy Feast Day of the Annunciation of the Blessed Virgin Mary. Mary was a young woman who answered God’s invitation to have a baby boy who would be God’s Son, the Messiah, a suffering, anointed, life-giving Messiah. She said a resounding ‘Yes!,’ to working with God, giving birth to hope for all humanity, in uncertain circumstances and in a world filled with fear, death and oppression.
Then this week and today, in our Lent readings, we have been journeying through the stories told about the end of Jesus’ ministry and his life. These two extraordinary stories of life and death, about Mary and Jesus, come together, giving us joy mingled with grief, hope clothed with despair, new life shining like a Light, in the face of betrayal and death. God is always present in the darkest of places, giving life, love, justice and peace to us all. God shows us despair and death are not the final destination in God’s story, but new life and hope in God is always the larger story in God’s kingdom which is continuing without end.
As we sit with these stories, and we reflect with sadness and joy, I am reminded that today, yesterday and tomorrow, God sent us out to share God’s peace and love. We share them with hope, with joy, with grief and sadness, with fear and trembling, in the face of all that is broken, wicked and evil in the world, because the darkness will never put out the Light.
This last week, Archbishop Jeremy wept with a victim survivor of child sexual abuse within our Anglican Church, as he said sorry for all that had been done and not done by the Church, as we think about her betrayal, her trials, the denials and crucifixion while he hoped to bring peace; an uncomfortable peace for the Church perhaps, but I hope, real peace for the survivor.
In these times, we must now also think about the wars around the world, and their impacts at home and with our neighbours as we pray for peace, hope, and light in the gathering darkness. Our reflections also need to guide us to speak and act as well as praying. Jesus reminded his disciples his peaceful, loving response was the only possible response to the threats of violence, hatred, fear and contempt. His love which was God-given to the world so the scriptures may be fulfilled (Matt. 26:26), and his absolute, comprehensive love, frightened the disciples so much they deserted him and fled. In thinking about them, let us think about our own response to similar fears and violence. It’s worth remembering also what the theologian Miroslav Volf said at this point:
‘There is something deeply hypocritical about praying for a problem you are unwilling to resolve.’
When Paul wrote to the Ephesians, he said: ‘…be strong in the Lord and…stand firm.’ This is not a metaphor or simply a nice idea for an afternoon conversation over a cup of tea. We are facing a physical and spiritual struggle where our human realities, our fear, hopes, and lives confront the increasingly persuasive ideological, oppressive and supremacist powers of the principalities of this world, and we are learning perhaps for the first time in this generation, how real this struggle is and how important it is to confront it as Christ’s disciples.
These are struggles which call us to be present, intentional and to be resisting with all the strength of our bodies and souls, the dark twisting persuasive coercion of how we might view peace and its prioritizing differently, by accepting and believing that violent means and corrupt powers bring peace more quickly, and that it is more satisfying, more justified and more controlled. In addition, any withdrawal from taking up resistance or choosing not to argue about ideas simply reduces our influence, reduces the capacity to make a difference and instead, allows corrupted peace, a shadow of God’s peace to grow and spread.
We are not called to withdraw into spaces where we are with like-minded people in closed off church communities; this is not gathering strength, it is retreat. We need to stand fast, even though it is uncomfortable. You may remember Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde speaking at the 2025 presidential inauguration service in Washington as she called for mercy. Her sermon was ridiculed. She was called nasty. Yet it wasn’t a particularly radical or prophetic sermon. She did not openly challenge or defy the president’s power. However, we can see how Jesus ended up on the cross, when such a response still happens today when a call for mercy and compassion is made; and we can see why Jesus’ silent, visible presence in his trial, was so confronting for his accusers with their false allegations as they had already determined to crucify him. Their desire to torture and mock him, to diminish and silence him, only showed up their own darkness against his light.
Jesus wasn’t crucified because he made peace with power. He was put to death by a state which knew how to deal with a truth-teller and peace bringer, who refused to keep quiet about the embarrassing parts of this compromise with worldly powers. He disturbed their peace. He didn’t bless the strong men, the religious leaders, the culture warriors or those who could repeat scripture while standing closer to the weapons than to the wounded. Now it is time to be worried, when faith is becoming Caesar’s chaplain and we are being led over the precipice of fear with willing compliance and without resistance.
Being peace makers, peace bringers, peace sharers with God’s love is the charge Jesus gives to all Christians, to all who choose to follow him as disciples. In this pilgrimage of prayer during Lent as we keep Christ company, we hear Jesus refusing to use violence, whether physical, verbal or spiritual. He speaks to his followers to reassure, love, forgive, to bring hope and peace, even when human fear brings out the worst in his persecutors and his disciples. In the darkness of human grief, ignorance, fear and cruelty, God’s mercy endured and new life was and is made possible for all who are touched by this story.
The Lord be with you.