What kind of day is Palm Sunday?

by Rev. Paul A. Whitlock

It’s the observance of a tragedy. It’s not a day of simple optimism. We know all about optimism; we’ve tried to be optimistic while the various countries of the world, including our own, position for war. We’ve tried to be optimistic while our government is falling apart and lacks the moral leadership to dig us out of this hole.
Palm Sunday is the observance of a tragedy, but not a day of despair.

Palm Sunday is one bright and glorious moment in human history when we proclaim the courage and the integrity of God in Christ. Palm Sunday isn’t a day when we throw up our hands because Jesus was killed. It’s not a day of pessimism when we condemn the people of the first century, the crowds which later became ugly. It’s not a day when we get morose over the money changers in the temple and declare that nothing ever turns out well.

Palm Sunday, rather, is a day when knowing…

  • People are fickle and get tired of parades and go home
  • Religious leaders like things neat and tidy and kill reformers
  • The humble truth teller is walked upon
  • People will sell their souls for a handful of silver
  • Even good friends will sleep while we suffer

Knowing all of this, Jesus still came riding into town.

Palm Sunday is a bright and glorious day when love turned into courage and integrity and became a small parade headed for the gallows. It’s the day that Jesus the Christ, knowing the facts of life – the truth about our person, and the truth of what we do when we get together – knowing all this Jesus loving does what he is called to do, and does it without bitter and ill feeling towards us. It’s so tragic that it had to come to this. It’s so tragic that God had to do that for us.

Palm Sunday is a tragedy, but a tragedy worth celebrating.  

photo credit: Rev. Paul A. Whitlock, Church of the Palms UCC

Put it to death

by Rev. Deb Beloved Church

“Sometimes things need to be destroyed so that something new can be created.” So my spiritual director said to me on the first occasion of our meeting–a meeting I had sought as I desperately tried to make sense of my growing understanding that my marriage was coming to an end. 

I recently came upon that same idea in the book we’re discussing in our Sunday morning Adult Education class, [Where We Meet: A Lenten Study of Systems, Stories, and Hope, by Rachel Gilmore, Candace Lewis, Tyler Sit, and Matt Temple]: “Sometimes things must die so that something more in harmony with the (kin)dom of God can emerge.” (Where We Meet, p. 50)

Certainly, that idea is not new, nor is it limited to those two occurrences! Indeed, those statements encapsulate a central tenet of the Christian faith: that resurrection comes only after death. That new life comes only after something dies. That rebirth into a new way of being comes only after the old way of being is no more.

And while we might long for that resurrection while it’s still far off, and welcome that new life once it comes, and celebrate that new way of being once we’re in it–we generally do not like the prospect of “it” [the thing that needs to die, whatever it is] being no more; we’re typically quite resistant to the process of it dying; we’re quite uncomfortable with the reality of its death

And yet…it is only through death that we get to resurrection. 

And so, in these remaining two weeks of Lent, I invite you to join me in considering, what is it that needs to die in our lives so that something new–and more in alignment with God’s desires for peace, for healing, for joy, for reconciliation, for wholeness, for justice, for abundance–and all of that for all of God’s creation!–might be born? 

Perhaps we need to put to death a grudge, or a desperately-held, long-harbored hurt. Or our certainty about what’s right and who’s right. Or a hurtful relationship or a self-destructive habit. 

Perhaps we need to put to death a diminished view of ourselves or others, or possibly, a grandiose view of ourselves or others. Or the lens through which we look, that judges others as less than–or more than–based on their education or ethnicity or religious affiliation or lack thereof. Or our blindness to our privilege or our secret and subtle self-righteousness. 

Perhaps we need to put to death our secret, soul-sucking excesses–alcohol, shopping, fault-finding, Facebook, working, gambling, people-pleasing, eating, or simply endlessly comparing ourselves to others. 

What would you add? What needs to die in our lives, both individually and collectively, right here and right now, so that something new and more in alignment with God’s desires for each of us and all of us and for all of God’s creation might be born? 

Where do we need death, so that we might prepare for and truly experience resurrection?? 

Peace and courage be with us all.

Pastor Deb