Preparing for Palm Sunday

I was a little surprised yesterday to receive an email with my assignment as a Eucharistic Minister that contained a caution that I should be ready to read the lessons, prayers, Gospel... and preach a homily. On one level, it was funny. On another it was not. It happens more often than not that somebody doesn't show up, and so I've learned to always be ready.
But a homily? Are you serious?
Especially since tomorrow is Palm Sunday... the Sunday that the Church decides to live a whole week's worth of events in one Sunday service. Why we decided it would be a good idea to do the Liturgy of the Palms... and then the Passion Gospel... beats me. I mean, after all that, what more is there to say?
Well, I'm going to give it a shot.
Let's start with the liturgy of the Palms. We all know that Jesus enters Jerusalem with much fanfare and people singing "All glory laud and honor to thee redeemer King. To whom the lips of children did sweet Hosanas ring." (OK, they weren't really singing that, but you get my point). What we never seem to dive into is that this moment was more than Jesus arriving in Jerusalem. It was probably the first staged protest in our human story. Coming from the west into Jerusalem was the strong arm of the law, known better as Roman Governor Pontius Pilate. Pilate arrived with horses and armies of soldiers. Jesus came from the east with his ragtag group of disciples, riding into town on a little gray donkey. Jesus had captured the hearts and minds of many. Pilate and the Roman Empire would want to crush this "new thing" because they had a good system going with the "old thing." Likewise, the Temple leaders had it good because they were the ones with the best seats in the synagogue, and kept everyone from getting too uppity. So here comes Jesus, entering Jerusalem essentially mocking the arrival of Pilate at the other end of town, and in a not-too-subtle way, challenging who the real authority should be for the people. I proposed last year that instead of us marching around the block at St. John's, we would be better to march ourselves to the Capitol building. Nobody seems to want to take me up on that.
Unfortunately, we can't spend time on this moment of protest because in our Episcopal liturgy we move from that glorious triumphant arrival to nailing Jesus to the cross. And this is only Palm Sunday! There's still a whole five days to go before Good Friday. Oh, well.
It is true that, in life, sometimes euphoria and joy can come to a screeching halt in the blink of an eye. One minute it's a beautiful crisp sunny day in New York City... and within minutes... the sky is filled with the smoke from airplanes that have crashed into a skyscraper. One minute, a teacher-turned-folk-hero in New Hampshire is on her way into outer space, and within seconds, she and the other astronauts are blown to smithereens. Tragedy can strike quickly.
But I don't think that's quite how it happened with Jesus. And I don't think he was so roundly despised by the masses within Jerusalem. Only the very vocal and powerful were the really hateful, egging on the cry of "Crucify him!" Today, we see it in this country with the mob rule mentality of the Tea Party. The insecure, the easily-manipulated, and those who benefit from their ignorance are screaming about the recently passed Health Care legislation. Because letting all of us "others" get health insurance is a threat?! My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
No, to build the momentum that leads people who might have been indifferent or untouched by Jesus to fall in line with the "Crucify him" screams, we need each day of Holy Week. We need to take the steps, painful as they are, toward that moment when God, in the form of Jesus, gave himself up to death on a cross for the purposes of being that sacrifical lamb for our sins: greed, envy, anger, jealousy, indifference. It is through this mindful process that I believe we arrive at Easter in that breath-taking awe of what all took place in the 72-hours between death and resurrection.
Wherever you are, no matter your tradition, I hope you will take this week to spend some time meditating on what this protestor of the political and social status quo did in that final week. Remember that he did it, in all his humanity, for our sake. And remember that the grace poured forth in that moment is yours to have and to hold forever.