The Passion According to St. Matthew Part I

The Triumphal Entry

Read: Matthew 21:1-17

If the last days of Jesus were to unfold in our time, things would be very different. Beyond the mode of transportation (a motorcade instead of a donkey and colt?) and the mode of acclamation (cell phones held high with faux candles instead of palms and scattered garments?), would be the problem of social distancing.  Would a parade even be allowed? Would the Temple, which was Jesus' destination, be closed due to an outbreak?  If the triumphal entry were to take place in our day, perhaps the tables of the money lenders would not need to be overturned, for the economy has already turned upside down.  What might the triumphal entry look like in this moment?  In all likelihood, this year we will not even be able to ritually re-enact it as we do on Palm Sunday every year in our churches.  Would Jesus Zoom or Skype the triumphal entry far and wide, or post it on Facebook Live? Would the acclamation take the form of "likes" floating up across the screen, and "Go Jesus!" fill the comments below the video? 

It is difficult to say what the triumphal entry might look like today.  We can only guess. But what we can be sure of, is how quickly things can change.  A few short weeks ago, I could not have envisioned a scenario in which during the most sacred time of the Christian year we would be unable to gather for worship and community.  Things can turn on a dime and what seemed normal one day is but a dream in a distant mist on the next.  Last week, I thought it was okay to still visit with people as long as we kept our gatherings small and kept our distance, now I am at home avoiding any contact with anyone other than the people I live with. Our lives are filled with such instantaneous changes. It only takes a moment of reflection to think about how our lives can change overnight. Many can relate to losing someone close to them unexpectedly and having one's whole life turned upside down. Others will have experienced a diagnosis that changed everything.  A couple of years ago, my wife, Athena, took a bad fall that put her off work for a whole school term.  Last year I suffered a breakdown that sidelined me for nine months.  In such moments, we realize not only how helpless we are, but also how all the things that seemed important are not quite as significant as we had made them out to be. We come to learn what is really important and what really matters.

As Jesus entered Jerusalem, everybody thought they knew what was going to happen.  It was a "triumphal entry".  Even though the scene, in reality may have been somewhat pathetic, a king on a donkey and colt, a rag-tag group of followers throwing branches and garments before him, it was a big moment for those who participated and remembered it.  The Hollywood moment was probably much grander than the historical reality.  Yet, in the memory of those who were there, it was a grand and fantastic thing.  For those who were there, the moment was everything.  In their mind's eye they saw Jesus riding in on a great stallion bringing about the revolution. And then things changed.

The drama that unfolds on Palm Sunday has always underscored the rapidity of change.  We begin with the palm procession, a parade, with loud Hosannas. Then we move to betrayal, and a reading of the passion.  In many places, the service ends in silence to mark the sharp contrast between how we started and how we are ending, where we were, and where we are.  In my time as a parish priest, I have often used the hymn "Love Unknown" as an offertory hymn on Palm Sunday to express that sudden change in circumstance and expectation.  The third verse expresses this change with deep sublimity:

Sometimes they strew his way,
and his sweet praises sing,
resounding all the day hosannas to their King;
then "Crucify" is all their breath,
and for his death they thirst and cry.

Things change quickly. We change quickly - and often not for the better.  They very ones who sang his praise were the ones who not only abandoned him, but mocked him and derided him.  We have within ourselves the capacity to change in terrible way at the drop of a hat. Yet, God see within us the capacity for change when grace abounds.  And this is a story of grace. We will get there, but maybe not today.  Today we are where we are.  We might wish to be somewhere else, to turn the clock back or to move it forward, but we cannot. We can inhabit the present moment and live into the moment that is breaking upon us.  As the story of the Passion unfolds, there will be many changes, abrupt changes. There will hopelessness and abandonment. There will be new faith and new hope.  There will be death and there will be resurrection, but each in its own time, in its own moment. We are where we are today.  The final verse of "Love Unknown" beckons us into the moment and to rest in it, no matter how awful or awe-inspiring it is. 

Here might I stay and sing,
no story so divine;
never was love dear King,
never was grief like thine!
This is my friend, in whose sweet praise,
I all my days could gladly spend.

Be fully in this moment for things change quickly.

Listen to Love Unknown - King's College Cambridge

Please feel free to share your own thoughts in the comments below.

• What might the triumphal entry look like if it were to happen today?
• When has sudden change turned your world upside down?
• When has resting in the moment offered you new insight?