There is probably a bigger mood change in this service than in any other service in the church year. Our service begins in an upbeat fashion as we celebrate the triumphal entry of Jesus into Jerusalem. Some of us began in the forest and sang as we processed into the church, remembering the crowd shouting 'hosanna to the Son of David' and waving palm branches. But just now we have heard the long passion gospel which tells of Jesus' false trial and his torture and death on the cross. Today is Palm Sunday which begins Holy Week when we remember all the events leading up to Jesus' death. Next Sunday, Easter Sunday, we will of course be celebrating again as we rejoice in Jesus' resurrection, but that does not make sense unless we have been through the whole story of his suffering and death. So let's think about that this morning and what it says to us today.
We start today with Jesus' triumphant entry into Jerusalem. By riding into the city on a donkey, Jesus picks up the prophecy of the prophet Zechariah: 'behold your king comes to you, triumphant and victorious is he, humble and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.' Normally one would expect a king to ride a horse, a royal steed, but Zechariah speaks of the king riding a humble donkey as he comes to proclaim peace.
The disciples pick up the royal theme and throw their cloaks on the donkey for Jesus to sit on and then on the road before him. Their cloaks become a royal carpet, as it were, for the king. Soon a multitude of followers have gathered in great excitement, praising God and welcoming him as their Messiah.
What did they think Jesus, the Messiah, their king, would do for them? Perhaps they saw him as a figure head for their own nationalistic hopes and desires. They would not have had in mind that he was, in fact, riding to his death.
But Jesus is the suffering Messiah; he is the suffering servant foretold in the prophet Isaiah. Rather than grasping and holding on to power, Jesus demonstrates his faithfulness to God by humbling himself and becoming obedient to the point of death – even death on a cross, as Paul writes to the Philippians. Jesus willingly embraces the way of the cross, and it is the cross and not the triumphal entry into Jerusalem that is central to our Christian faith.
So what does the story of Jesus' passion and death on the cross say to us? What does it tell us about ourselves and about God? Some of us tried to grapple with this question at a recent session on the Creed.
What does the cross tell us about ourselves? Well we might think that a strange question: how can it tell us anything about ourselves; what have we got to do with it? If we read the passion narratives in a detached way we may feel that the story is all about other people: about Jesus centrally of course, but also about all those other awful people who did terrible things to him. We might think of Judas who betrayed one of his closest friends, of Peter who denied him under pressure, of Pilate and Herod, those wily politicians for whom power and their own position was more important than anything else. We might think of the cruelty of the soldiers who mocked and tortured Jesus, and the religious leaders who scoffed at him, and the crowd, whipped up into a fervour, who clamoured for his death crying out 'crucify him.' The tide, it seems, had turned and these may have been some of the same people who earlier were flocking round Jesus with shouts of praise, waving palm branches. We all know how fickle crowds can be.
But it is hard to read the passion narratives in such a detached way. This is not just the story of people long ago who mistreated and abused Jesus; it is not just a story of the cruelty of people in ancient times. Surely the account of Jesus suffering and death speaks into the suffering of our world today and reveals to us something about human nature not just then but now. When you look at the world today it is very hard to hold to the belief that people are nicer and better now than they were then. There are plenty of examples in our world today of ruthless and power-hungry politicians and leaders, of mob violence, of betrayal and cowardice, mockery and cruelty, terrible lament and anguish. We will all be aware of the recent photos depicting the barbarous cruelty of Russian soldiers torturing and killing men, women and children in Ukraine. And there are many such horrific acts going on all round our world today.
Yet, the passion story speaks to us even more deeply. If it's not just about other people 'back then' in the past, neither is it just about people 'out there' somewhere else in the world today. As Luther once said, Scripture is not about 'other people', rather 'it is all about you.' It is about you and me. Scripture holds up a mirror to us in which to see ourselves. We need to read the passion narratives with an open heart and mind and find ourselves within the story. As it says in the haunting words of the spiritual: 'Were you there when they crucified my Lord?' The only authentic Christian answer is 'yes, we were there.' We can see ourselves in some of the characters surrounding Jesus; the cross confronts us with our selfishness and cowardice, our aggression, cruelty and indifference and our need for forgiveness and healing.
Of course, if the only thing we saw in the cross was the sin and suffering of the world, including our own sin and suffering, it would be unbearable to look at, and Good Friday would simply be 'bad' Friday. But the good news is that the cross does not just reveal something about us, but also reveals the loving purposes of God.
In the face of the cruelty and cowardice, betrayal, mockery and desire for power displayed by those around Jesus, in the midst of his physical and spiritual pain and anguish, Jesus prays the startling words: 'Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.' Rather than crying out in anger, bitterness, or vengeance, Jesus pleads for the very people who are torturing him. But this is more than the prayer of a holy man; Jesus' death itself brings about the forgiveness and reconciliation he prays for. For God was in Christ reconciling the world to himself. The cross doesn't just reveal the sin of humanity, or the forgiveness of Jesus; it reveals to us the nature of the God we worship. God was in Christ; when we have seen the Son, we have seen the Father. In Christ, our holy God takes upon himself the sin and suffering, darkness and desperation of our world, in order to bring us back to himself. God does not ignore our sin or simply dismiss it, he forgives us through taking the burden of sin and its consequences upon himself. To quote Luther again: we need to 'begin with the wounds of Christ for all understanding of God.'
In the cross we come face to face with our failures and sins, and face to face with the costly self-giving love of God in Christ. How then do we respond? Perhaps all we can do is respond with the humble prayer 'Lord, have mercy.' This is the response of the penitent thief crucified with Jesus. As he dies on the cross, he acknowledges his own failure and sin, and he recognises the innocence of Jesus and turns to him with a desperate plea for mercy: 'Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.' To which Jesus replies: 'Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.'
The message of the cross is that we cannot redeem ourselves; we need the grace and forgiveness which comes through the utter self-sacrificing love of God in Christ. The events of Good Friday encourage us to wake up to ourselves and to God. We need to recognise our inner wounds and compulsions, our petty and mean selfishness, the potential for violence and cruelty within our own hearts; what one writer calls 'the slum within'. But the cross also brings us face to face with the love of God; a love stronger than sin and stronger than death.
So let us commend ourselves and the world Christ came to save to God's love and mercy, looking to the cross, and then beyond to the resurrection.
Helen Marshall