Sunday Service for Palm Sunday in studio for BBC Radio Ulster 28 March 2010 Bishop Donal McKeown

Every year, when it comes to Shrove Tuesday, the day before Ash Wednesday, I sense a dark cloud gathering over me. Lent is about to start and that makes me feel uncomfortable – I will have to head out into a sort of personal desert and deliberately choose to do penance, make special sacrifices, create more silence for prayer, more space for grace. That means breaking comfortable patterns of behaviour, pushing myself a bit further and being open to feeling uneasy, unsettled by the messages that come from the scriptures and from people. Now I have five and half weeks of that behind me. It wasn’t so bad after all. It never is. But before I can get to Easter, I have to cross the deep river and unpredictable currents of Holy Week. I find these next seven days an emotional time because it tells a story of fickle crowds and unreliable friends, it speaks of loyalty and love, betrayal and brutality, it involves facing into the reality of evil and its consequences. That is a million miles from the fantasy world of celebrities and talent shows with their promise of salvation for the few through fame – but it is the daily reality of life for most of our fellow men and women. Healthy religion is not about escaping from reality but about facing it with confidence and courage. This week Jesus asks us to walk that painful road with him and not to be afraid.

Palm Sunday starts with a positive story – this rustic preacher from rural Galilee has arrived in the sophisticated Jewish capital. The religious and civil authorities have been very wary of him for nearly three years but there is popular support for his fresh approach to people and to God. But, as ever with this Jesus, he doesn’t do things the way everybody expects. He is prepared to accept public acknowledgement of his mission – but wants to make it clear that he doesn’t accept the normal trappings of leadership or popularity. He wants to broaden horizons, not limit them. The voice of the prophet is never comfortable.

READING 1 : Mark 11:1-10

Now when they drew near to Jerusalem, to Bethphage and Bethany, at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two of his disciples 2and said to them, "Go into the village in front of you, and immediately as you enter it you will find a colt tied on which no one has ever sat. Untie it and bring it. 3If anyone says to you, 'Why are you doing this?' say, 'The Lord has need of it and will send it back here immediately.'" 4And they went away and found a colt tied at a door outside in the street, and they untied it. 5And some of those standing there said to them, "What are you doing, untying the colt?" 6And they told them what Jesus had said, and they let them go. 7And they brought the colt to Jesus and threw their cloaks on it, and he sat on it. 8And many spread their cloaks on the road, and others spread leafy branches that they had cut from the fields. 9And those who went before and those who followed were shouting, "Hosanna! Blessed is he who

Page 1 comes in the name of the Lord! 10 Blessed is the coming kingdom of our father David! Hosanna in the highest!"

The people of Jerusalem dared to hope that their long history of domination and occupation might be coming to an end with this strange preacher from Galilee. They had been disappointed before – but hope is a perennial plant that cannot be rooted out from the human heart. The roots that nourish hope are not part of an unhealthy weed that might choke the heart or suck it dry. Instead, these deep roots are structural parts of the heart that was made to dream and love. The citizens of Jerusalem have only the language and dreams that they know. They will be confused when this Saviour fails to live down to their uncomplicated expectations of what liberation might mean. The pain of the past and the fear of hoping too much will crush their dreams – and by Friday they will be calling for Jesus’ death.

There is much pain in our society. Violence, greed, physical, emotional and sexual abuse, broken hearts, illness, betrayal, depression – these are to be found in every street, area and class. Religious faith, education and wealth are no protection against what Hamlet calls the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. We know from this little country just how much pain was caused over 30 years by bomb and bullet, intimidation and bereavement, rage and counter-rage. Individual, communal and structural evil have left horrible wounds. Some people prefer to forget the reality, others seem trapped in the icy grip of malignant memories while others have walked through the fire of burning pain and have come out the other side, bloodied but unbowed . History has taught us that pain is real and that some reactions to pain can simply cause more pain. Some of our society’s modern sporting heroes have discovered that irresponsible behaviour gives birth to pain and anguish. Human stupidity develops long tentacles. As the old phrase goes, the only problem with free love is that someone has to pay the price. We can sometimes feel caught in a trap where there seems no solution, no way out of the destructive spiral.

When it comes to talking about the source of so much pain, some people do not like the word ‘sin’. I’m not hung up on the vocabulary – but there is no denying the fact that human beings cause much hurt to others. They may have acted maliciously or irresponsibly. Whatever the justifications, many people do selfish and thoughtless things. Institutions and systems have crushed and damaged people. The bible story of Adam and Eve gives the message that we humans are made for greatness but capable of stupidity and evil. It is only a fool who thinks that they haven’t hurt others and made stupid, sometimes disastrous decisions. The Bible story says that the capacity for sin is not just out there in another community, or the state or somebody else. The patently obvious, but very uncomfortable truth is that I am capable of evil and that I have done bad and destructive things in my life. I am at least partly responsible for all my decisions. In the long run, that truth is liberating rather than oppressive.

Page 2

But the problem does not stop with just accepting the reality of evil in my life. The real challenge is how we proceed with that reality. Merely feeling guilty can destroy many a person. Real wisdom comes from being able to take the rubble of the past and transform it into a foundation for the future, taking the rubbish of the past and turning it into life-giving compost rather than into a stinking mess in the corner of my life. Holy Week is all about how we might process the evil in my story so that it ceases to be a millstone round my neck and becomes a rock, however small, on which I can stand.

The prophet Isaiah, some centuries before Jesus, spoke of a person who would not punish us for our guilt but carry it for and with us. He would not deny the reality of wrong doing – but would proclaim that it cannot destroy the dignity of either the offender or the offended. Neither trauma nor guilt can crush who I am.

READING 2: Isaiah 52:13-53:12 He grew up before him like a young plant, and like a root out of dry ground; he had no form or majesty that we should look at him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him. He was despised and rejected by others; a man of suffering and acquainted with infirmity; and as one from whom others hide their faces he was despised, and we held him of no account. Surely he has borne our infirmities and carried our diseases; yet we accounted him stricken, struck down by God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the punishment that made us whole, and by his bruises we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have all turned to our own way, and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all. He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth; like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth. For he was cut off from the land of the living, stricken for the transgression of my people. They made his grave with the wicked and his tomb with the rich, although he had done no violence,

Page 3

and there was no deceit in his mouth. he poured out himself to death, and was numbered with the transgressors; yet he bore the sin of many, and made intercession for the transgressors.

The story of Jesus is of one who refused the temptation to be a show-off Messiah, turning stones into bread, jumping off the Temple or aiming for political power. He would be one who would walk with the lepers and the sinners and who would help those who were estranged from themselves and from others to find integrity and wholeness. He would be betrayed and be taken for a criminal, would accept unjust condemnation. He would soak up the worst that all human beings had done to one another and to themselves – from Adam and Eve through Auschwitz and Hiroshima, greed and abuse, to the horrors of starvation and war in the 21 st century. And by his Resurrection he would show that even human evil at its worst could not destroy either the dignity of each human being nor God’s dream for his creation and his creatures. Humans might fail but God would not let sin and death have the ultimate victory. Human beings were too precious for that.

That is why St Paul would later write about Jesus in terms that shocked his contemporaries – but which have inspired healing and hope in the 2000 years that have followed.

READING 3 :

Philippians 2:5-8 Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death-- even death on a cross.

A few weeks ago I was celebrating Confirmation with young people in one of our city parishes. When I asked them what their dreams were for the future, now that they were leaving primary school. The large group of excited and energetic children could produce only two dreams – to play football or to win the lottery. I have no problem with either of those dreams but I was aghast at the limited expectations that these children had of life. Other groups of children elsewhere have had wonderful dreams. But that first group suggested to

Page 4 me that hope is in short supply in many of our communities. And the opposite of dream is not dreamless sleep but nightmare.

Certainly, there has been an explosion of wealth in recent decades. But many places seem to be plagued with a growing collective depression, a form of ‘affluenza’. Viktor Frankl who spent three years in a Nazi concentration camp suggested that our society offers us the means by which to live but not a meaning for which to live. By that he didn’t mean that people are deprived of things to motivate them. He was, however, suggesting that we all need to believe not just that life has some abstract meaning – but that our individual lives are meaningful and have value. The thought that my living is without sense of significance makes the soul shudder. Shakespeare puts the following words into the mouth of Macbeth

Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player That struts and frets his hour upon the stage And then is heard no more: it is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing. (Macbeth V,5)

That is a depressing view of life. There is one big lesson that I have learned in life. The story that we tell about the past has a huge influence on how we speak about the future. If we have not seen any success in the past except lottery wins and football stars, then that affects the possibilities we see for the years ahead. If we tell a story about the past that is dominated by oppression, pain, disappointment or betrayal, then it is hard to have confidence that the future will be different. If things have generally gone well in the past, it comes as a terrible shock when things don’t keep moving along in that vein.

If the story we tell about the last ten years is of financial crises and parliamentary scandals, sexual abuse and international terrorism, the apparent false alarms about the millennium bug, bird flu, swine flu, in the midst of horror stories about global warming, then it is hard to have much confidence that the future is bright. It is easy to despair. And there are too many people dying for want of a reason for living.

The story of Holy Week, despite its sombre events, is a week with a message of hope – though it mustn’t have seemed so at the time! Whatever happened at Easter helped these lost and lonely people to retell their story in a way that enabled them to re-interpret what had happened.

So the story of Holy Week is one that tells, not of failure - but of the failure of failure to destroy God’s dream for and love of the world. So the story of Jesus is about the ultimate and unimaginable victory of meaning over meaninglessness. He invites us to know our story, not just as a series of facts and dates but in the context of a belief that sin and death cannot destroy the dignity of those who have been created in God’s image and likeness. Then we

Page 5 can retell it from a different perspective, believing that it is not merely a series of unconnected and meaningless incidents. It was the former Czech president Vaclav Havel who is quoted as saying that hope is not the conviction that something will turn out well but the certainty that something makes sense, regardless of how it turns out. That makes it possible for everyone to confront and even live with the reality of evil and pain. It is with that sort of conviction that I can face into Holy Week with a little less trepidation.

Christians believe that Jesus faced that reality of pain and disgrace, the ultimate destruction of his life – and yet, because he faced the jaws of death that comes in so many forms, he was not destroyed by it, but rather faced death down.

READING 4: Phil 2:9-11 But God raised him high And gave him the name Which is above all other names; So that all beings In the heavens, on the earth and in the underworld Should bend the knee at the name of Jesus And that every tongue should acclaim Jesus Christ as Lord To the glory of God the Father.

True success, healing and human growth do not come about through lotteries but by walking a long and winding road. Holy Week asks us not to fear the long inner journey, knowing that all the terrors along it cannot destroy us. We are, not what we eat or what we own, but who are becoming because grace is about healing and liberation, not silly restrictions and growing shades of the prison house .

The night before the announcement that I was to be made a bishop, I dropped in to see my mother to let her know. And her reaction, “could they not get somebody else?” Later, when people commented to her that she must be very proud to have a son a bishop, she would say, “he just needs more prayers!” She was perhaps more aware than she knew of what lay ahead. This year Holy Week will have particular significance for me and for my church tradition. That does not just apply to those in positions of leadership but also to the large numbers of people that will come to Church services, some of whom are just hanging on to the faith community by their fingertips. Previous adulation and pride have turned to anger, disappointment, frustration and doubt as the Church, to which they have been loyal, seems to be a source of increasing embarrassment. Its feet of clay have been laid bare and it is not a pretty sight.

What might the events of Palm Sunday and Holy Week be saying to us?

Page 6

Firstly, I’d take the image that came from the unimaginable earthquake in Haiti. That huge movement of the earth’s forces made short work of the many poorly built constructions, trapping thousands in their ruins. But houses and offices built well with good materials were able to stand. The challenge for us in church leadership in this country means accepting full responsibility for where there was bad building, perhaps many houses built on sand, and for the destruction that this caused. Then we can seek out what is robust and still standing and fill the spaces that gape in a silent scream with something new and enduring. That will not bring back the lost past of those who have suffered. But it may help to heal some wounds and to give reassurance that, even on the Cross where Jesus felt that he had been forsaken, grace was still active. It is no excuse for Church to say that this was the culture of the time and that everybody else thought the same. The problem for Church is that it failed to be a prophetic voice in the culture of the time, that Church failed to model the Jesus who rode on a mere donkey into Jerusalem. Then if we can face the nakedness of Good Friday and stand ashamed before the crowd, than perhaps we can hope for the Resurrection that comes, not because of our strength or goodness, but because of abandonment to the One who can heal our memories and who cannot be crushed by sin.

Secondly, Holy Week was a time of crisis for the Jewish authorities in Jerusalem as well as for Pontius Pilate and the followers of Jesus. The church was born out of a crisis. Indeed only if the Church can accept that security and self-confidence is the very opposite of the spirit that characterised the early Christian community, if only we can focus much more on the apparent failure and rejection of Jesus, then we might be much better able to see the truth and to speak it in humility. Power and success can distort expectations. The psalmist suggests that having a humbled contrite heart is a good place to be, not one to be avoided at all costs. A crisis allows the opportunity for new possibilities to emerge. People of faith are invited to be surprised by grace, not afraid of it.

Thirdly, the Gospel tells many stories of healings that Jesus did. They were instantaneous and marvellous. But we all know that healing also can involve a long walk with someone in pain. Those who accompany recovering addicts or individuals suffering from mental distress or eating disorders or people plagued by painful memories – they know that love and energy will be drained from every last corner of their reserves. They know that they too will have to share the cross of others if new reserves of healing are to be tapped into. That takes courage - and courage teaches us to be angry in ways that are fruitful, not destructive.

And so we pray.

Intercessions:

Lord Jesus, in agony in the Garden of Olives, Troubled by sadness and fear,

Page 7

Comforted by an angel, Stay with us in our loneliness.

Lord Jesus, betrayed by Judas’ kiss, Abandoned by your apostles, Delivered into the hands of sinners, Walk with us in our disappointment.

Lord Jesus, accused by false witnesses, Condemned to die on the Cross Struck by servants, covered with spittle, Stand with us in our fear.

Lord Jesus, disowned by Peter Delivered by Pilate and Herod, Counted among the wicked like Barabbas, Reassure us when we feel betrayed.

Lord Jesus, carrying your Cross to Calvary, Consoled by the daughters of Jerusalem, Helped by Simon of Cyrene, Bear our cross with us.

Lord Jesus, stripped of your clothes, Given vinegar to drink, Crucified with thieves, Hold us in our shame.

Lord Jesus, insulted on the Cross, Praying for your executioners, Pardoning the good thief, Rescue us from self pity.

Lord Jesus, Entrusting your mother to your beloved disciple, Giving up your spirit into the hands of your Father, Giving up your life to conquer the fear of death,

Page 8

Help us to give that we might receive.

By your sufferings, Lord, Heal the wounds of our hearts. Let your tears be the source of our joy And let your death give us life.

We ask this through the same Christ our Lord. (Cf. Lucien Deiss, Biblical Prayers , Chicago, World Library Publications, 1976. p.40)

Page 9