I
InThePew
Guest
My homily for this Sunday:
It’s been a very strange season of Lent. It’s also a very different Palm Sunday from what we’re used to; there’s no palms for a start (okay, maybe one or two) and definitely no procession. Before the procession, we would normally hear the gospel recounting Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem, and it’s that I like to reflect on.
The events the gospel recounts carry with them a sense of triumph and celebration; the crowds acclaiming Jesus as enters into the city, coming as a King to take up his throne. The disciples would’ve felt they had a front row seat on the greatest event in history since creation, about to become part of the inner circle in Christ’s kingdom. For Jesus though, there is a sense of aloneness and isolation. He alone knows what awaits him in the city. He is only too aware that almost every single person present that day will abandon him, leaving him utterly alone in the face of death.
Alone he stands before Pilate and alone he is condemned to death in a sober and sombre moment. Isaiah’s suffering servant narrative puts it well: he offered no resistance, nor did he turn away setting his face like flint. St Paul goes further seeing Jesus’ humanity and humility in this moment: he did not see equality with God as a thing to be grasped but emptied himself becoming one like us, one with us and humbled himself even further unto death, death on a cross.
Nowhere is Jesus’ aloneness and isolation more profound than in his heart-breaking cry from the cross, a cry in solidarity with all who feel abandoned by God. Christ makes their lostness his own. Those who doubt, who are dissatisfied, who themselves have abandoned God. God so loved the world that he gave his only Son over to sin and suffering, death and despair so that, journeying into darkness, he might bring light to the lost, hope to those who have forgotten how to hope.
Hope does not disappoint is never illusory but it’s up to us to make it a reality especially when isolation and loneliness, death and despair are only too real right now. Indeed, the words of Ps 74 seem eerily appropriate: “we have no sign from God, no Prophet, no one to tell us how long it will last.”
Christ’s cry is one of abandonment but not despair because by his suffering and death he has purchased for us the grace of never being forgotten by God. There is no cross which he has not already borne and does not now bear. His cry gives voice to our vulnerabilities, our anxieties, our suffering. Our faith is weak, and we are fearful, but the cross enables us to embrace hope allowing it to strengthen and sustain us.
The whole of the gospel is about Christ passion death and resurrection and as we wait for better time, for a better life which we know will come; we’re called to do all we can to make the gospel a reality in the here and now; to make it part of our lives, part of who we are, so that the word of the Lord might resound not simply in the silence of our hearts but also in the silence of our streets and all people will come to acclaim: we adore you O Christ and we bless you for by your holy cross you have redeemed the world.
It’s been a very strange season of Lent. It’s also a very different Palm Sunday from what we’re used to; there’s no palms for a start (okay, maybe one or two) and definitely no procession. Before the procession, we would normally hear the gospel recounting Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem, and it’s that I like to reflect on.
The events the gospel recounts carry with them a sense of triumph and celebration; the crowds acclaiming Jesus as enters into the city, coming as a King to take up his throne. The disciples would’ve felt they had a front row seat on the greatest event in history since creation, about to become part of the inner circle in Christ’s kingdom. For Jesus though, there is a sense of aloneness and isolation. He alone knows what awaits him in the city. He is only too aware that almost every single person present that day will abandon him, leaving him utterly alone in the face of death.
Alone he stands before Pilate and alone he is condemned to death in a sober and sombre moment. Isaiah’s suffering servant narrative puts it well: he offered no resistance, nor did he turn away setting his face like flint. St Paul goes further seeing Jesus’ humanity and humility in this moment: he did not see equality with God as a thing to be grasped but emptied himself becoming one like us, one with us and humbled himself even further unto death, death on a cross.
Nowhere is Jesus’ aloneness and isolation more profound than in his heart-breaking cry from the cross, a cry in solidarity with all who feel abandoned by God. Christ makes their lostness his own. Those who doubt, who are dissatisfied, who themselves have abandoned God. God so loved the world that he gave his only Son over to sin and suffering, death and despair so that, journeying into darkness, he might bring light to the lost, hope to those who have forgotten how to hope.
Hope does not disappoint is never illusory but it’s up to us to make it a reality especially when isolation and loneliness, death and despair are only too real right now. Indeed, the words of Ps 74 seem eerily appropriate: “we have no sign from God, no Prophet, no one to tell us how long it will last.”
Christ’s cry is one of abandonment but not despair because by his suffering and death he has purchased for us the grace of never being forgotten by God. There is no cross which he has not already borne and does not now bear. His cry gives voice to our vulnerabilities, our anxieties, our suffering. Our faith is weak, and we are fearful, but the cross enables us to embrace hope allowing it to strengthen and sustain us.
The whole of the gospel is about Christ passion death and resurrection and as we wait for better time, for a better life which we know will come; we’re called to do all we can to make the gospel a reality in the here and now; to make it part of our lives, part of who we are, so that the word of the Lord might resound not simply in the silence of our hearts but also in the silence of our streets and all people will come to acclaim: we adore you O Christ and we bless you for by your holy cross you have redeemed the world.