A Parade?  Really?

Palms were the branches that were available in Jerusalem. The long-standing tradition in northern Europe, where there are no palm trees, is to use pussy willow branches for Palm Sunday. Early spring branches, wherever we live, those with buds or perhaps their first hints of leaves or blooms, are the ones to use along the parade route of the story this day. Can you see any of those branches out your window?

Prayer (based on a prayer ascribed to the 13th-century English bishop Saint Richard of Chichester, made popular by the version below sung in the 1971 musical Godspell.  There are many musical recordings on the internet. You might want to take a few moments to listen to one or more of them.)

Day by day, day by Day
O, Dear Lord, three things I pray
To see thee more clearly, Love thee more dearly,
Follow thee more nearly, day by day.

Breath as Connection (take your time with this)

Imagine as you breathe in and out that your breath is connected in rhythm to the breath of the people you love who are also breathing in and out at this very moment. Then expand your awareness to imagine the rise and fall of breath of all creatures across the planet.  Finally expand your vision to include trees and plant life who offer us a mutual exchange of breath. Allow this prayer to connect you to the vast matrix of pulsing life within which we live. (Christine Valters Paintner)

Text:  Matthew 21:1-11

When they had almost reached Jerusalem, having come as far as Bethphage, on the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent on two followers.
“Go to the village facing you,” he said, “and you will immediately find a donkey tethered, with a colt by her side; untie her, and lead her here for me.
And, if anyone says anything to you, you are to say this: ‘The Master wants them’; and the person will send them at once.”
This happened in fulfillment of these words in the prophet:
“Say to the people of Zion—‘Your king is coming to you, gentle, and riding on a donkey, and on the colt of a beast of burden.’”
So the followers went and did as Jesus had directed them.
They led the donkey and the colt back, and when they had put their cloaks on them, he seated himself on them.
The immense crown of people spread their cloaks in the road, while some cut branches off the trees, and spread them on the road.
The crowds that led the way, as well as those that followed behind, kept shouting: “Hosanna to the son of David! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!”
When he had entered Jerusalem, the whole city was stirred, and asked,
“Who is this?” to which the crowd replied, “This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee.”

Reflection (4.5.20, Palm Sunday):  A Parade?  Really?

Jesus offered unambiguous directions to his followers that day. He asked them to see him through the lens of a prophet, in this case the prophet Zechariah (Zechariah 9:9). It is the only instance we have of the adult Jesus riding an animal; his practice was to walk. He enters not on a mighty horse in triumph but on a humble donkey, in today’s language, as a servant leader. The conflict with Pilate is set. The inevitable journey to Jerusalem always meant this. A sturdy, humble, challenge regarding life lived from the deepest of relationship with the love of God. In his directions was the request to see with more clarity, to love with more dearness, and to follow as near as can be.

We opened our scattered-at-home worship time this morning with a prayer from the 13th century English Bishop Saint Richard of Chichester. Centuries later, it was known by few until it inspired a song in the hit musical Godspell in 1971.  Godspell opened Off-Broadway in May 1971. A few months later, I began to discern a call to ministry and before too long saw Godspell at the Schubert Theater in Boston. The request to see with more clarity, to love with more dearness, and to follow as near as can be has accompanied me ever since.

For those early followers, on that particular day in Jerusalem, Chichester’s prayer was embodied in their participation in a prophetic drama making a point from which there was no backing down. Then is not now. And so I am wondering as that prayer converses with the story of Palm Sunday, what might be required of us in 2020?

On the subject of a parade, all I can say is “Really?”  We aren’t supposed to be within six feet of any human being except those with whom we live who are not infected with COVID-19.  We are instructed to wear a face mask when we walk the dog, replenish our food stocks, or pick up medicine or other medical supplies. We are not getting shoulder to shoulder with anyone in the present tense. Instead of gathering as an immense crowd, we are isolated in households of the fewest number of people possible. There is a 24/7 news feed that warns us of the dire and real consequences if we do not keep our distance, self-isolate, eliminate unnecessary touch, and wash our hands more times than we can count. Hearing the story of a parade, the crowd, all the jostling for a good view, the reaching out of our hands that we might touch the side of a donkey or the fabric of his robe, the celebratory wave of the palms – it all seems absurd.  What are we to do with that right now? Right now, for an undesignated time into the future consider people of all ages living alone without a housemate or a pet. Consider abused ones trapped inside day after day with their abusers. Consider health care workers and first responders sleeping when they can in hotels not returning to their families at the end of shift for fear of exposure. Consider the homeless without any secure sheltering-in-place location. Consider Asian-American neighbors who are being verbally attacked on the street and taunted online. Consider children in distressed and marginal neighborhoods without internet access at a time when e-learning seems the best option. Consider caregivers not able to be present with those they love in the midst of serious illness or dying. Consider parents and children stacked on top of one another at home, working, learning, doing daily life, accumulating disappointments, fears, and questions facing numerous uncertainties. Consider those incarcerated or in detention centers with zero opportunities to self-quarantine. A parade really?

Bringing together the story of Palm Sunday and Richard of Chichester’s prayer of seeing, loving, and following sends us back to the story, beneath the surface of the parade to what else lies there. They entered Jerusalem at the time of Passover. The ancient ancestors of today’s Jewish people were gathering from every corner of their known world to get to Jerusalem. The gold standard was to be in Jerusalem for Passover. And if you couldn’t, the oft spoken line was “Next year in Jerusalem.” So the city was teeming with others, different people, unknown people, uncomfortable people, people who might seem threatening, people you wouldn’t choose or stand next to.

Palm Sunday 2020, in the year of COVID-19, the story of then and now that we read from our places of isolation is a story of others. How are we mindful of others? In what way do we include others? Can we widen our perception of the varied pains and struggles that define neighbors in this season? Are we seeking, doing, and repeating truth that will protect the lives of as many as possible? Even in our isolation, are we open to creative efforts for refreshed life that we might set into motion? Are we willing to listen to what this pandemic could teach us about the intertwining of our wellbeing with every other one out there including the earth?

Jesus came to Jerusalem, into a huge gathering of others. He rode on a donkey embodying a profound identification with the love of God. Such a love of God shakes the foundations of power by greed, power by naked self-interest, power by corruption, power by me and mine alone. As the text says, he came into Jerusalem stirring things up. We can’t have a parade today, tomorrow, or next week, or who knows when.  But especially in the days of this week, we can show up and grow still, to be mindful of seeing more clearly, loving more dearly, and following more nearly, where the witness and teaching of Jesus would lead us during and beyond these days of pandemic. With Jesus we go into the struggle, protecting and preserving stories of hope, stretched beyond what we thought we could do or be, to experience what we’ve heard about these last weeks – being born again with Nicodemus, pouring and splashing living water with the woman in Samaria, rejoicing in the healing of whatever blindness is with us, proclaiming with grit, with grief, and with Martha of Bethany the enduring grace of resurrection. And so, enter into the week seeing, loving, and following, with clarity, dearness, and a commitment to be near.

Morning Prayer (Whether you are by yourself or with others in your household, name as we do when we are together, those for whom you are particularly mindful this day.  If you would like to email me any of your specific joys and concerns in prayer, I will share them in the next memo. Once you have given words to your prayers, utilize this Celtic practice of encircling all that you pray for with these words:

Peace within you.  Peace before you.  Peace behind you.  Peace beneath you.
Peace above you.  Peace beside you.  Peace every hour, day and night.

Blessing: God Be With You (close your eyes for a moment envisioning our beloved circle of blessing at Mayfield. It gives voice to our longing to be together.)

God be with you ‘til we meet again,
By good counsel guide uphold you,
With the sheep securely fold you.
God be with you ‘til we meet again.
God we with you ‘til we meet again.