Palm Sunday 2020: Welcoming someone who refused social distancing.

What can be said of Palm Sunday in the midst of the coronavirus? What can an event two thousand years ago say to people today? For the Bible story to mean anything, whether it’s Jesus entering Jerusalem or any other, it must be able to transcend time. What was really going on way back when, and what can it say to us today? What did it mean that palm branches welcomed Christ into the city, and what would it mean for us to place palms to welcome into our homes today?

Like so many distant stories, age causes us to gloss over the details and soften the edges of the picture. Jesus told his disciples they were turning toward Jerusalem and it caused quite a reaction. None of the disciples thought it was a good idea. In fact, they thought it might cost Jesus his life. Better to stay at a distance, they felt, but he began walking and they reluctantly followed.

Jerusalem was the political and religious capital at the time. Just as it was puffed up with its own self-importance, it was also mired with corruption and intrigue. There were the Romans and the Jews, the Pharisees and the Sadducees, those who had made peace with Roman occupancy and those who were zealous about Romes removal. There were those longing for God and those who believed God had forsaken them, those who longed for a Messiah and those who felt such longings were a childish dream.

Towards it all, Jesus walked. Despite the growing concern about the man, he paraded down the middle of the road, through the city gates. As I read the story this year in the context of the “social distancing” we’re all practicing, I couldn’t help but marvel at Christ’s audacity. He never kept his distance. In fact, he seemed to defy every kind of social distancing prescribed by his society. From the start, his is a story about God drawing near. God with us, we often say at Christmas, but it’s equally true on Palm Sunday. Even when others advised against it, even when there would be dire consequences, Christ entered in, draws near. 

He did it way back when, and he does it today. For that, I stand with the palm branch of my heart and welcome him.

Independent Together

One of my favorite lines from a movie comes from Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer. Hermee is describing a life where he could do what he wants and be who he was made to be - a dentist! I’m going to be independent, he announces, to which Rudolf responds, “let’s be independent, together.” Even as a child I knew that was a funny thing to say. Those two things don’t go together, I thought . . . until recently.

These are strange times we live in. Barren streets, people wearing surgical gloves and masks in the grocery store, and others crossing the street rather than walk closely by someone is still taking some getting used to. The expression, “social distance,” has caused us to shut our doors and pull our shudders as we try to weather this awful storm.

But an interesting thing has happened as well. Just as I’ve had to step back from others, I’ve never felt closer. I wave with delight when I see a neighbor on my walk, I call friends who live in other parts of the country, and I’m praying for people I don’t even know. The virus has made the world smaller and our connection to one another more pronounced. We’ve become “independent together,” and for that I am grateful.  

The magical elixir.

Poor me,

Poor me,

Pour me . . . another drink!

An AA Refrain

One of the things I love most about the church I attend every morning I’m able is the valuable truth passed along through seemingly simple expressions. We gather like travelers huddled around a table gazing down at a map as we prepare for another day’s trek. Experienced travelers pass along what they’ve learned about the terrain, while novices ask all sorts of questions. There’s great wisdom around the table, wisdom that’s come at a great cost, and it’s often disguised in short expressions - Let go and let God, One day at a time, Fake it ‘till you make it, I’m not much but I’m all I think about, Do the next right thing.

Early in my travels, when I was surrounded by darkness and feasting on guilt and shame, someone taught me the importance of gratitude. I was at one of my lowest points, and he made me write a gratitude list. 

“You’ve got to be kidding,” I protested.

“No,” he replied like the wise sage he was. “Write 25 things for which you’re grateful, and don’t just say ‘my kids.’ Be specific!” 

I complied and proudly brought the list to him, only to be told to go add another 25. It took work, but, in the end, I learned how therapeutic gratitude can be. 

Gratitude fills one’s heart, pushing fear and sadness, insecurity and greed, guilt and shame to the curb. It brings new life and allows our souls to breath. It empowers us to look up and see beyond our small world – to our neighbors, our country, and world. Wallowing in sadness causes us to look down and focus only on ourselves. Like the saying above, if we find ourselves in a pity-party, a drink (which, for us, is death) begins to look dangerously appealing. 

I wanted to share the power of gratitude with you given all that is going on around us. In no way am I discounting the hardship and the brutal realities that face us each day, but I’m suggesting there are still many things for which to be grateful. Writing a (specific) list of 25 things will work wonders and allow our souls to breath. If we go and write an additional 25, who knows, we might find ourselves looking up and seeing the struggles of others with a more compassionate heart and generous spirit.