The Ride of Our Lives March 16, 2008

Palm Sunday
March 16, 2008

Some people go to the amusement park and they like to ride the merry go round. Me, I prefer a roller coaster. Sure, you go up and down, up and down on a merry go round. But you never get anywhere. You never get the heart-pounding, scary thrill that a good roller coaster gives you. Today’s readings are a roller coaster.

So strap yourselves in, folks. This is gonna be a bumpy ride. If you’re feeling a little disoriented today you’re not alone. Today we go from Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem—hailed as the savior of the Jewish people—to his most vulnerable, human moment—when he is alone, abandoned, tortured and dying. He cries out, “My God! My God! Why have you forsaken me.”

We may feel dizzy and disoriented today as we hear these two readings. It’s more than a bit like being on a roller coaster. So pick your roller coaster of choice—maybe it’s the Ragin’ Cajun or the Tornado or Vertical Velocity. Strap yourselves in and come along with me.

Look where we’ve come these from these past weeks. Just six short weeks ago, we climbed up the mountain and we were with Jesus and the disciples on a mountaintop when he was transfigured and revealed to be God’s own Beloved. But we know that we can’t stay on the mountaintop—Jesus told Peter that and he shows us.

So—zoom, it’s down into the desert with Jesus and with his temptations. But then we climb as we whiz up with John’s gospel. These past weeks, we’ve traveled with Jesus as John’s gospel portrays him—full of wisdom and glory. Up we climb again. We’ve heard about how he comes to bring sight to the blind, to raise the dead, to bring good news even to a Samaritan woman.

And this morning’s service of the Palms brings us to the top of the roller coaster—to the big parade the Jewish people had for him as he entered the city. Keep in mind that if this took place at Passover, the city would have been crowded with pilgrims. Word about his marvelous deeds had been building and the crowd laid down their coats and spread the way for him with palms.

All this stirred up the Roman and Jewish officials—what would this mean to their power? And the plot to execute him began. We’ve also heard about his betrayal, arrest and death—according to Matthew. We’re plunged down with him, down to the depths.

If we are reeling, if we are queasy because of the rise and then the plunge, well that’s to be expected. Imagine how it would have been if you were one of his followers—to see the crowds hail him and then to abandon him yourself. To experience your friend, the Promised One—die a criminal’s death.

You’re sick. Sick to death. And you struggle for meaning. As a gospel writer Matthew was focused on providing some solid ground for them. He wrote in a way to show what meaning Jesus’ life and death had. Which is why he consistently ties his gospel to scripture they would have known—Isaiah, Jeremiah, the Psalms.

What the community needed explained was how such an awful death, how such betrayal by their fellow Jews could have happened to Jesus, the man they knew as the hero of their community. It must have been like a roller coaster ride for them too.

We enter Holy Week and we are invited to ride with Jesus the whole way—through the tenderness and the compassion of Maundy Thursday. On this day we are reminded that we must first allow Jesus to minister to us if we are to minister to others. Then we are invited to watch with him during our Vigil. We will set aside the sacrament in our chapel and we are invited to quietly pray as we recall how he was taken away like a thief. We are invited to pray during Thursday night as we recall his loneliness and the loneliness of others who watch and wait and weep at night.

On Friday, we are invited to mark with him again his Passion and Death, this time focusing on the masterful way he does this through the eyes of the writer of John’s gospel. For although the story is the same, how it is told is very different. We will have a reverencing of the cross that we built from our concerns. We will remember the ways that Jesus has taken the pains of the entire world upon him.

And on Saturday evening, we will again gather for the Great Vigil during which we will recall how at last he conquered death. We will light the Great Light again. What has been covered and hidden will be revealed. We again will climb the mountain with him and we will declare that he has made all things new.

Too many Christians only come to church for the triumph of Palm Sunday and then skip directly to the triumph of Easter missing the trip down through the week. They skip from the wave crest of Palm Sunday to the wave crest of Easter, and they miss the descent into greatness. The only way up is down. Jesus is calling us to that same journey downward into greatness. Mickey Anders

There's no Easter in the lessons today. Nor will there be all week. Unless we can walk these paths, leaving our comfort zone, our self-satisfaction, daring to walk beyond safety into the darkness of evil and death, carrying Jesus to the tomb, we will not even begin to grasp the power of the Resurrection.

So I invite you to walk with Jesus at every step of this Holy Week. Don’t short-circuit yourself and your own spiritual journey. Join us and the people of St. John’s as we ride the roller coaster that is Holy Week.

Jesus invites us to ride the roller coaster that is our unique spiritual journey with him. He dares us to the heart-pounding, scary, thrill that traveling with him is. And he knows we’re up to it. He knows that we can leave the safety of the merry-go-round behind as we join him. Our baptism is the ticket. There’s no height requirement. Just a willingness to strap ourselves in with him. Ready?