Who are we waiting for?

And the crowds that went before him

and that followed him shouted,

‘Hosanna to the Son of David!

Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!

Hosanna in the highest!’

And when he entered Jerusalem

all the city was stirred, saying, ‘Who is this?’

And the crowds said,

"This is Jesus the prophet, from Nazareth in Galilee."

Matthew 21:9 - 11

The solemnity of Passion Sunday signals the beginning of Holy Week – from the joyous welcome into Jerusalem, from his acceptance and acclamation as king. Holy Week ends with the death and burial of Jesus.

This is a journey that we know intimately. Retelling it has not altered its meaning or impact. We wonder what was in these people’s minds as they waved their branches and laid out their cloaks along the road. It is not only a question of who they were welcoming. It is equally a question about who they were and what they were expecting. This entrance of Jesus is Messianic. This event has been prophesied by Zechariah, the throwing of the cloaks alludes his royal status, while the strewn and waving branches recall the procession of the Feast of Tabernacles. This is the Davidic king whom they have awaited. They cry, ‘Hosanna!’ – using this term of praise to God, taken from the Jewish liturgy (where it means 'save us, we pray'), and attributing it to this man who arrives seated on a colt.

Did they see more than a man? What drove them to gather in crowds to see him? What had they heard about him? What did they want from him? Did they know who he was? Is this the same crowd that days later would call for his death? For a tragedy in which they were complicit?

Undoubtedly their patience with God was running thin. They had been promised salvation, and now, following the Greeks, the Romans now controlled the country. Hundred of years of subservience to foreigners. Now their desire to offload their oppressors was heightened and tense. They longed and yearned for a messiah, perhaps a mighty general, a statesman-politician, a high priest, a great prince.  But a carpenter’s son from Nazareth?

They - it would appear - were disappointed by their own actions. They were fickle, they had been stirred up, excited by this potential saviour, but overwhelmed by the moment, only to change their minds, even calling for Barabbas to released. It was soon obvious that Jesus of Nazareth would not meet their expectations. At all. The crowd threw their rage at the Sanhedrin and then at the governor, Jesus must die.

We know how this story ends. We’re heard it before. It’s not good. But it is also a beginning, and in the continuing story, it is all revealed.

These coming days of darkness and shadows reveal the fullness of Jesus’ humanity as he struggles with the choices before him, the finality of his decision, the acceptance of and release of his self, his body, his life, for his Father, for us.

What an awesome mystery this is, what surrender, what passion.

A part of us too should ache with the knowledge of that passion, for that is our share in the mystery. Who are you waiting for?

Peter Douglas

 

 

Reflection 

Most Rev Columba Macbeth-Green OSPPE, 

Bishop of Wilcannia-Forbes

What did you hear in this week’s Gospel and what does it mean to you?

What will you take away that will sustain you personally in your faith journey?

Dear friends, our Gospel passage is the Passion. It’s very long, and it’s very heavy.
My initial response in reading that passage was one of depression. There seemed
to be a litany of human failure. First of all, we had Judas’ betrayal; that’s what it
starts with, and it goes downhill from there. We have the disciples who weren’t
able to stay awake for Jesus when he really needed the support of his friends and his followers in the Garden of Gethsemane - they couldn’t even stay awake; failure. The Chief Priests and the Council; failure. These were the religious leaders, the ones who should have been Jesus’ greatest supporters in time of need, but they were his persecutors; failure. Then his capture; what a failure. The people that he came to serve were the instruments of his capture by the Romans; failure. Even one of the thieves who was crucified with him had a go at him; so this litany of human failure. St Peter denied him three times; his number two; failure. It’s a depressing story, really.

This litany of failure culminates in, of course, our Lord’s death, Jesus dying on the Cross in the most terrible way that someone could be put to death. All his friends, where were they? Where were all the people he healed? Where were all these people that he served, that came in their thousands to listen to him? They’re not there; just a couple of his hard-core followers and his mum; I found that very, very sad; very distressing. I read it every year, but still, my response to that was, “How would Jesus have felt when so many people had let him down and failed him?” And I thought, wow, that’s the story of our life, really, because we all fail Jesus.

But despite that litany of failures in that Gospel passage, Jesus loved each and every one of them. He didn’t turn his back on them and say, “Well, if you don’t want me, I’m off, you’re on your own.” He loved them that much that he went through all this, he endured their failures, he suffered and he died for love of all people, even those who rejected him.

I think the saddest part of that Passion was Judas who failed Jesus, who betrayed him, but he let his failure keep him away from coming back to Jesus and saying I’m sorry. And that was really, really sad because he was one of the Apostles; he would have known that Jesus would have forgiven him. He should have known, shouldn’t he? But he let his failure and his sin keep him away from Jesus, and ultimately he hung himself. I find that profoundly sad.

But I think for the rest of us, the good message from that Gospel is that it doesn’t matter what we do, Jesus loves us, and he died for us. So with Jesus, failure can be turned into something good because it can give us humility, to realise that even St Peter failed. But Jesus transformed that failure through grace into success; into holiness. And I think that’s the essence of the Gospel for me. So while it is distressing, it is sad, it’s a bit of a depressing look at human nature, I think the real message of that Gospel is one of hope for us all. It doesn’t matter what we do or what our failings are, Jesus loves us despite ourselves.

This reflection can be viewed at www.dbb.org.au.