With our routines and world upended by the Shelter in Place Order earlier this week that affects all of California, we are looking for ways to stay connected during a mandate to physically stay apart from one another. I have been blessed to spend Lent providing pulpit supply to Grace Community Church in North Fork, CA, and this is a continuation of our time together, even though we’re in different spaces.
Opening Hymn • Ride On, Ride On in Majesty
Liturgy of the Palms
Lay Leader: Barb Colliander
Our many voices keep us in community with one another during this time. If you are interested in recording a reading of next week’s scripture, please email me.
Call To Worship
God of our salvation,
we give you thanks for Jesus Christ, our Lord,
who came in your name
and turned the lonely way of rejection and death
into triumph.
Grant us the steadfast faith
to enter the gates of righteousness
that we may receive grace to become worthy citizens
of your holy realm. Amen
Liturgy of the Passion
Lay Leader: Sandy Chaille
Children’s Time
Faith Formation Resource for Palm Sunday from Illustrated Ministry
Church at Prayer
All are invited to email me prayer requests for next week’s prayer, or to get in touch any time during the week. We are in the midst of an unprecidented global event, and I am available as a compassionate ear if you find you need to talk through what’s going on.
Due to the public nature of worship and prayers online, prayer requests will be vague on the video recording to respect privacy and confidentiality, trusting that God knows our intention.
Hymn • Were You There?
Litany of the Passion
Christ Jesus, in agony in the garden of Olives,
troubled by sadness and fear,
comforted by and angel:
O Lord, have mercy on me.
Christ Jesus, betrayed by Judas’ kiss,
abandoned by your apostles,
delivered into the hands of sinners:
O Lord, have mercy on me.
Christ Jesus, accused by false witnesses,
condemned to die on the cross,
struck by servants, covered with spittle:
O Lord, have mercy on me.
Christ Jesus, disowned by Peter, your apostle,
delivered to Pilate and Herod,
counted among the likes of Barabbas:
O Lord, have mercy on me.
Christ Jesus, carrying your own cross to Calvary,
consoled by the daughters of Jerusalem,
helped by Simon of Cyrene:
O Lord, have mercy on me.
Christ Jesus, stripped of your clothes,
given vinegar to drink,
crucified with thieves:
O Lord, have mercy on me.
Christ Jesus, insulted on the cross,
praying for your executioners,
pardoning the good thief:
O Lord, have mercy on me.
Christ Jesus, entrusting your mother to you beloved disciple,
giving up your spirit ino he hands of your Father,
dying for all of us sinners:
O Lord, have mercy on me.
By your sufferings, Lord, heal the wounds of our hearts.
et your tears be the source of joy for us, and let your death give us life.
O Lord, have mercy on me.
—Lucien Deiss, 20th Century French Catholic liturgist
Sermon
Sermon Transcript
Maybe you’ve seen one in the news the last few weeks, or you and your family have personally experienced the newest kind of parade sweeping our sheltered-in nation: the school parade. Teachers and administrators of schools have been decorating their cars and cruising the neighborhoods of their students, waving and smiling as their pupils sit on their porch or lawn waving and yelling back. Long lines of SUVs covered in twisty crepe-paper streamers, balloons flying from the doors, and windows painted with messages of love, support, and school spirit as school closures are going from the initial prediction of just a few weeks, to now closing for the rest of the year. There is no contact, no throwing of beads or candy (or even of homework). No high-fiving. This is a bizarre take on a parade, but it is the kind of interaction the students and teachers have been craving during the weeks of distance learning and Chromebook check-outs, and Zooming in.
Today, our tradition remembers another odd parade. One that is referred to as “triumphal” despite its humble trappings. There are no floats, no roses, no massive balloons soaring above the crowds, no beads being thrown, no rainbows, no high school marching bands or dance troupes. Rather, it is a man coming into Jerusalem, crowds going ahead of him and laying their own garments on the road, along with branches from trees, crowds following him, shouting, “Hosanna in the highest heaven!” The closest to our own familiar parade theatrics that this one comes is that he is, if we are to read and take Matthew literally, riding a colt and a donkey at the same time. What kind of a parade is this, anyway? It is obvious that no permit from the city was acquired, streets were not blocked off hours ahead, there was no police force working in tandem with parade organizers to keep people from out of the path.
However, we shouldn’t step off on this parade route assuming that Jesus didn’t have it all worked out. His triumphal entry was calculated. He may not have had the JROTC, color guard, low-rider car club, and the chihuahua play group, or the mayor in a convertible at the front of the parade, but he had a plan for how his arrival for this final trip to Jerusalem would take place.
While Jesus was arriving at one end of Jerusalem, his rag-tag group of peasants and outcasts coming from the East, Pontius Pilate would have been coming in from the West. We all know the name Pilate, but for a quick history refresher, here is how he fits into this story.
Jerusalem is occupied. It is under Roman rule. Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan explain this domination system in their book The Last Week, and essentially, there are different levels of power in Jerusalem at this time. Locally, powerful Jewish leaders were chosen by Rome to handle the local governmental issues. These are your King Herods and Caiphases. During Jesus’ lifetime, the temple had become where local Jewish government collaborated with Rome. According to Borg and Crossan, “It had the defining features of ancient domination systems: rule by a few, economic exploitation, and religious legitimation.” (Borg and Crossan, 15.) The high priests were in charge of mediating between their Jewish subjects and Rome, and keeping the peace often meant dealing with the people who might cause Rome to retaliate and destroy all of Jerusalem.
It is with this context in mind that we see entering on stage left, Pontius Pilate, as Jesus is entering from stage right. Pilate is the governor over the area, a Roman, and he is coming into Jeursalem ahead of the Passover celebrations, which drew thousands and thousands of pilgrims to the temple. Did anyone catch The 10 Commandments last night on TV? If we all remember our Charlton Heston correctly, the Passover is the remembrance of Israel’s freedom from the bondage of Egyptian rule and enslavement. It is imperative for Pilate to assert a Roman presence during this time, to say “Okay, okay, you guys can celebrate your festival, but no funny business. Rome is in charge here.”
Pilate’s parade looks a little more like the parade we would expect, he’s coming into town with the chariots, the armed guard, there’s probably some “Miss America” style elbow waving, as he comes in with his lavishly decorated processional.
Jesus’ cloaks and branches on the ground was a stark, immediately obvious contrast. Where Rome entered Jerusalem, opulence, excess, and the trappings of colonial rule were present. Where Jesus entered Jerusalem, there was little fanfare, and yet we still remember his parade to this day. The humble minimalism indicating to those who were aware of scripture and the prophets that this man, riding a donkey and a colt, were prophesied to be the King of Jerusalem. In this light, Jesus’ entry looks more like a political rally or a rights march. We are very familiar with those images.
While our Matthew reading does not say what kind of branches were used, we get from the Gospel of John that they used palms. We see a humble but brilliant antagonist riding into Jerusalem, and his followers dangerously risking retribution form both Jewish and Roman leadership, knowing that this is more than just dancing in the streets and throwing leaves all around. This is a political statement, THE political statement. And what are the people shouting? Hosanna! Hosanna in the Highest!
Maybe I’ve zoned out a few too many times during sermons on Palm Sunday, or maybe I was too taken by the dazzling sight of the children entering with palms, singing, and the fanfare of the morning for this to sink in, so forgive me if this isn’t new information to you, but do you know what Hosanna means?
Hosanna is not “Yay! Let’s party! Jesus is here!” like I think we sometimes might hear it, as we are joyfully re-enacting the palm processional. It is an exclamation that is crying out for saving. Jewish New Testament scholar Amy-Jill Levine explains in her book Entering the Passion of Jesus, that, “Hosanna is a Hebrew term that means, literally, ‘save, please,’ or in more formal terms, ‘save, we pray’” (Levine, 31.) While on the other end of the city of Jerusalem Roman forces are arriving to remind the occupied Jewish people who they must submit to, Jesus’ followers are coming in shouting for salvation. We must never forget that in the midst of this triumphal entry, Jesus is riding into town aware that this political march on Jerusalem is the first step toward his death, the first step toward what he must do in order to hear those Hosannas and take their prayer for salvation seriously.
While we are sheltered-in-place, how might our hosannas ring out? When we’ve come together for Palm Sunday in the past, perhaps our hosannas have come across as tinny, because while we each have our personal struggles, what have we corporately needed saving from? This year, as we wave our branches at home, separated from our community, our hosannas have more depth. COVID-19 is getting personal now, as the wave of those sick is mounting, and we’re beginning to hear from people we know what it feels like to experience the headache, the sore throat, the underwater feeling of not breathing deeply enough. Some of us have been home for weeks, alone. Some of us don’t have the luxury of staying home, and are facing infection due to the shortage of proper protective equipment in our workplaces. And while our children are sitting in the yard, waving at their teachers as they parade by at a safe distance, our hosannas are on our lips, as meaningful as ever. Save, we pray.
Closing Hymn • All Glory, Laud, and Honor
Holy Week
Here are a few resources for self-reflection and family study for you to use this Holy Week:
Holy Week Coloring Book
Guide for Reflection for Palm Sunday, Holy Week, and Easter from Christian Century
A Sanctified Art At-Home Liturgy for Maundy Thursday
Good Friday Virtual Chapel with NCNC-UCC April 10, 9am-4pm
And just because:
BINGO game from Peace UCC in Santa Cruz. Let me know when you get a Bingo! There will be prizes for the first bingo and the first black-out bingo!
This morning’s virtual worship was created for the wonderful folks of Grace Community Church in North Fork, CA. I am providing pulpit supply through Easter, and have completely fallen in love with this church. If you came to this via some other source and received blessing by what was presented here today I would like to ask you to consider sending a donation to Grace. Like everywhere else, churches are being hit hard by this disruption to our usual way of life. Thank you!
Checks can be mailed to:
Grace Community Church
C/O Rene Horton
P.O. Box 368
Auberry, CA 93602
Busy Little Sunshine 