The
spiritual theme of Holy Week, which we are about to enter, begins and
ends on distinctly different notes. Actually, they are exactly the same
notes, just in reverse order. And the order is important.
Holy
Week begins next Sunday, on what we often call “Palm Sunday.” Strictly
speaking, it isn’t Palm Sunday at all. It is the “Sunday of the
Passion.” It happens to begin with the Liturgy of the Palms, which
recalls the triumphal entry into Jerusalem. But the major theme of the
day is the Passion Gospel in which we hear the story of the suffering
and death of Christ, this year from the Gospel According to Luke.
What
I want to point out, though, is the order of those stories. First
comes the triumphal entry, then the suffering. Triumph first.
Suffering second.
The
end of the week is exactly the opposite. We will hear the story of the
passion again, this time from the Gospel of John, on Good Friday. Then
on Easter Day, of course, the story of the resurrection will be read.
Note the order. Suffering first. Triumph second. The order is as important as the stories themselves.
From
the point of Palm Sunday in the story, things go terribly wrong. The
crowds began by spreading their cloaks along the road, waving branches
from the trees, and shouting, “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is
the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest
heaven!” It is only five days later that the very same crowds are
shouting, “Let him be crucified!” The low on which the day ends is made
all the lower by the high on which it begins.
The
end of the week is just the opposite. From the point of Good Friday,
when all would seem to be lost, the story takes a remarkable turn and
the completely unexpected happens. Jesus is raised from the dead. An
angel announces the good news to the women who had gone to the tomb.
“He has been raised from the dead, and indeed he is going ahead of you
to Galilee; there you will see him.” The high on which the story ends
is made all the higher by the low that immediately precedes it.
The
rhythm is a very important part of the message. The spiritually sound
one is the latter. Begin with suffering, end with triumph. The one we
have a tendency to prefer is the former. Begin with triumph, avoid the
suffering, or if you can’t, then ignore it. Suffering for love must come
first. Passion, the root meaning of which is suffering, is required
for there to be true spirituality. Everything else is magical thinking.
Magical
thinking infects our life in lots of ways. When we think “things will
work out” without being willing to invest some passion, we fall victim
to the magical. When we are more concerned with triumphant outcomes
than with passionate pursuit of outcomes, that’s magical thinking. When
we think that winning is more important than passionate integrity,
that’s magical thinking. When we think we’re better than others for one
reason or another or deserve something others don’t for one reason or
another or are entitled more than others for one reason or another, and
when those things are more important to us than passionately
loving others, that’s magical thinking.
There’s
nothing about the Gospel that is magical. Palm Sunday may have felt
like magic to the disciples. Jesus knew better. He was no sooner in
Jerusalem after the magical, triumphal entry than he was in the temple
bringing the magic crashing down by overturning the tables of the money
changers. That led directly to a conflict with the scribes and chief
priests. And things just went downhill from there. Magic fades
quickly.
On
the other hand, there is a lot about the Gospel that is passionate.
The crucifixion leads directly to the resurrection. It is passion,
suffering for love, that opens up what God can do in the world. And, as
Jesus teaches, it is certainly how we share in it. Passion, which is
spiritually true, protects us from magic, which is not.Peace,
+Stacy
No comments:
Post a Comment