Sunday Service for Palm Sunday in Studio for BBC Radio Ulster 28 March 2010 Bishop Donal Mckeown
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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.