Palm Sunday is an invitation of the most extreme kind.
If you picture a polite and proper written invitation to an important event, it’s usually on pretty white paper and arrives quietly in your mailbox with a diffident request for an RSVP.
Palm Sunday is an invitation to events that shatter the status quo and reconfigure the universe, and it arrives with strikes of lightning, booms of thunder, and crowds shouting themselves hoarse in the streets of Jerusalem.
We are here now to make our answer to the invitation of Palm Sunday.
Jesus is hailed by the crowds today, and we throng along with them, waving our palms with bright, self-congratulatory allegiance to our matchless king.
And then we have a choice.
Many of us will go home and not darken the door of spiritual encounter until Easter Day. But that is a mistake.
As your priest, I’m selfish and I hope you come to some of the darkly beautiful liturgies that lie before us this week.
But what I really want is for you to enter the sanctuary of your heart to be with Jesus.
Whether you come to this building between now and next Sunday is beside the point.
Verse 12 of Psalm 31, our psalm for today, struck me as I began to work with Holy Week this year.
“I am forgotten like a dead man, out of mind.”
In some ways, I feel like this is Jesus’ greatest fear. Continue reading