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April 5, 2009 I Love a Parade!“I love a parade!” exclaims the Gershwin song. True to those lyrics, there are four parades I look forward to every year: the Fourth of July,Thanksgiving Day, New Year’s Day, and Palm Sunday. Every year on this day we begin our worship in the Gathering Room, we wave our palm branches, and we parade into the sanctuary (worship space) in a rush to find our favorite seat. Other than being a festive way to begin Palm Sunday, why do we do this? Part of the answer is that we are re-enacting… no, we are reliving the events of Holy Week, beginning with the way Jesus was greeted by the people when he went to Jerusalem. We do what they did so that we understand… in a visceral kind of way… that we are part of the crowd, too. And, as part of the crowd, waving palm branches and shouting “hosanna” is a reminder that, no matter how faithful we are… how learned we become… how certain we are about who God is… we’ll never have it all figured out. You see, the first Palm Sunday crowd thought they had done just that… had finally figured Jesus out. They had heard stories about his healing power, his teaching authority, about being anointed by God, and they had come to the conclusion that Jesus was to be their king. In the line and in the manner of King David, certainly Jesus would set them free from the oppression of the Roman government. Certainly Jesus would reestablish a Jewish state. Certainly Jesus would be their king. And so they cried “Hosanna,” meaning literally “save us” and waved palm branches, the symbol of the Jewish state. The crowd thought they had done what the disciples seemed unable to do… they thought they had it all figured out, when really they didn’t have much right at all. Every Palm Sunday when I’m waving my palm branch, shouting “hosanna,” and thinking about the mistaken certainty of the crowd, I think about the times when I, also, have been stubbornly certain about matters of faith and life. It started for me in the 6th grade when my friend, Kim Pasko, and I had a revelation. We had heard stories about heaven being someplace up in the sky, bible passages about Jesus being the light of the world, and we had sung the fourth verse of Amazing Grace… the verse that says,“When we’ve been there ten thousand years bright shining as the sun… ” We pieced these things together and came to the sure and certain conclusion that heaven was on the sun. We were so excited that we entrusted our sixth grade teacher with our profound discovery, only to have him nod vaguely and say,“It could be.” It COULD be? I was devastated. I thought I had it all figured out, when really I didn’t have much right at all. Sometimes I think we look at theology… meaning literally the “study of God”… and subsequently, living a life of faith as if they are things that can be completely figured out. We tend to look at them as things that can be grasped once and for all… as if they are something tangible just beyond our reach. But the truth is that theology and faith are less like a search for the Holy Grail and more like “Finding Nemo” than we might want to believe. I say that because our God isn’t static, but dynamic… is not a thing or a power, but a relational being… less Grail-like and more personal. In the World Religions class we’ve been looking at Islam. Muslims, or those who practice Islam, believe that God is revealed to them through the writings of Mohammed. Mohammed’s divinely inspired words have been written in the Quran as a way for Muslims around the world and throughout the ages to know who God is and how to live a faithful life. As Christians, we also have holy writings… a collection of divinely inspired manuscripts that help us understand who God is and how to live a faithful life. Yet, the real revelation of our God comes not in words or writings, but in a person… in the person of Jesus Christ. If there’s anything we know about people, it’s that a person can not be grasped once and for all. Of course, there’s a lot we can learn about a person… likes and dislikes...or how a person might respond in any given situation. If we get to know someone really well, we might even be able to finish his/her sentences. Yet, no matter how well we know a person… regardless of how much information we are able to piece together… there is always the possibility that he or she will surprise us. I’ve known my husband and colleague for almost 20 years and he still surprises me! That’s because a person is not static, but dynamic… is not a thing or a power, but a relational being… less Grail-like and more personal. To be in a relationship and to live in that relationship is a never-ending process of asking and wrestling, defining and redefining, growing and discovering. Perhaps this is why my sixth grade teacher said “it could be” rather than “are you crazy?” Perhaps this is why, as the ELCA, we continue to discuss and debate who God is and what it really looks like to live a faithful life. This is why, as the ELCA and now as the saints of St. Paul’s, we are engaged in inter-faith dialogue… because we all have something to learn from each other .This is why, as the saints of St. Paul’s, we continue to worship and meet in small groups and continue the life-long process of growing as disciples of Jesus. Because no matter how certain we might be… how confident in our way of thinking… how much more educated we all are now than we were in sixth grade… God is not something or even someone who can be grasped once and for all. This means, then, that we are therefore bound to a life of proclaiming God as we understand God to be. In the words of our celebration today, we are bound to a life of shouting “Hosanna” on the road to Jerusalem. Just when we might be tempted to be discouraged by this never-ending quest… just when we might be tempted to wonder if all the asking and wrestling, defining and redefining, growing and discovering is really worth it, we realize that, in spite of themselves, the crowd on that first Palm Sunday did get something right. No… Jesus didn’t conquer the Romans. He didn’t establish a new government. He wasn’t much of a king at all… at least, not the kind of king they expected. But he was… and he is… a king indeed. He is as the Holy Grail… the object of our search… though still not something that can be grasped once and for all. He is God in our midst… a living God...who entered the depths of what it means to be human. “Hosanna! Hosanna to the coming king!” was the cry. Somehow, some way, the shout of the crowd, the loud ringing hosannas… .spoke a truth. Somehow, some way, this is how it still works today. As we ask and wrestle, define and redefine, grow and discover, a miracle happens. “My word will not return to me empty,” says the Lord. And so it is. Our celebrations and our proclamations… our Alleluias and our Amens… do speak a word of hope and peace and truth. That is enough so that, even though we dare not claim to have all the answers… even though we will never have everything all figured out… even though we must be careful not to claim that we have cornered “the truth”… we join the parade of Palm Sunday revelers around the world and throughout the ages. As we begin the week we call holy, we raise our palm branches and we add our voices to those who shout,“Hosanna! Hosanna to the king who was and is and is to come. Hosanna to the living Lord. Hosanna to God in the highest!” |
St. Paul's Lutheran Church § 824 N. Lewis § Waukegan IL |
