Palm Sunday

From Wallace W. Robbins' "For Everything There Is A Season"

There is no reason to call the Sunday before Easter Palm Sunday or the day of the Trimphal Entry. Although the Fourth Gospel does refer to palms, there were no palms growing in Jerusalem during the time of Jesus. The author of the Fourth Gospel, notably unreliable as an historian, was writing to convince the world of the Greeks, a world of athletic contests and gnostic mental debate. The first three gospels, on the other hand, know nothing of palms but speak out of the Jewish longing for the coming of the biblically qualified Messiah. According to their accounts Jesus met the conditions of the expected one by riding on the ass, the humble servant of God, rather than coming as a victorious charioteer, reining in the wide-nostriled warhorses of the conqueror. The pitifully small reception committee spread their garments and the leaves of the city trees in the way, shouting under the protest of the guardians of Israel, a welcome to David's Son. Hardly a notable entrance, was this.


In the week which followed there was a personal victory for Jesus, but there was only a social disaster which followed the so-called Triumphal Entry. Under attack, his dignity, faith and detachment have impressed even unbelievers. He was badgered by hecklers, insulted by the Establishment, finally tortured in flesh and collapsed in hope by the misapplied legal authority of Rome. The leaves that were strewn in his way in welcome left the bare wood of the cross at the end. The green spring of the year in which these events are recalled is the autumn of hope, the time of the blood-colored leaf falling to ground.

It is in this tragic truth rather than in the contemporary ecclesiastical ceremony that we can find the meaning of the tree which both Matthew and Mark set before us in the second day: there is a fig tree as plentiful of leaves as the pathway of the march was the day before, but as fruitless as the week would prove to be. Jesus condemned this tree of luxuriant outward show to remain forever fruitless. Mark adds an especial touch to the event of the encounter with the showy, sterile tree. He says, "For it was not the season for figs."

I once heard a "liberal" who seemed to have read the Bible at the same flat, factual plane as a Fundamentalist, grow angry with Jesus for cursing the poor tree for not having fruit out of season. "It was a petulant act, unreasonable in nature. Why should he expect the tree to do what in its nature it could not."

Botanically, this irate comment makes sense, but we have here a symbol of the Holy City full of promise unrealized, a season not of agriculture, but of human culture. Indeed the fig tree in Luke is replaced by the vision of Jerusalem which is to be dashed to the ground "because you did not know the time of your visitation." It was not a time of anger, but of sorrow. "I would have mothered you as a hen mothers her chickens and you would not," Jesus wept.

Where did we even get the idea that historic and earthly time heals everything? Not from Jesus who saw time as an eternal now in which there is no extension granted to those who have new land, new wives, unlighted lamps, or even the dead to bury. If you do not act upon the invitation to the heart, others go in your stead to the banquet. If your lamps are not ready, you are left in darkness.

Shakespeare knew that there is a time in the affairs of men; Jesus knew that there is a time in the affairs of men which belong to God. Both knew that readiness is all.

From Frank O. Holmes' "My Heart Leaps Up"
Palm Sunday: He was walking toward us like a god over the waves...Race, language, religion, were forgotten. (Saint-Exupery, in Wind, Sand and Stars describing the Arab stranger who brought him and his companion water when they were dying of thirst in the desert.) Meditation: May I not speak the word "brotherhood" lightly. As my affection for my friend persists in spite of differences and faults, and as I pledge my loyalty to my country in the face of its imperfections and my own shortcomings, so let me love mankind realistically. Let my appreciation be so warm and my concern so genuine that they will bridge all separations, survive all discouragements, and thus open the way for the working of a Divine grace in my life with others.

Seventh Monday: Being asked by the Pharisees when the kingdom of God was coming, he answered them..."Behold, the kingdom of God is in the midst of you." Gospel of Luke. Prayer: O God, who hast appeared unto me in the past as an encourager of my trust and hope, and who art ever calling me to serve the future's vast and noble vision, remind me, now, of the nearness of Thy presence. Thou art calling me, this hour, to serve and love; and if I will give Thee an undelaying response, I shall discover before this day is done, the invigoration of Thy divine energy, and the joy of Thy commendation. Amen.

Seventh Tuesday: Ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free. Gospel of John. Prayer: Almighty God, make us to feel that when we are seeking truth most sincerely, when we are speaking truth most bravely, we are least alone. A great cloud of witnesses are about us, a great company of the like-minded are with us. An irresistible army is moving forward to those places which we see and which they shall see. So in our journey we are companioned by all those who have loved righteousness and sought truth and done justice.

Seventh Wednesday: In quietness and in confidence shall be your strength. Isaiah. Prayer: Not only in word and work would I find and praise Thee, but also in stillness and silence. Even in moments of weariness and weakness, when I would be free of the burden of willing and seeking, remind me, Lord, of Thy presence. Grant that at all times I may be aware of the Love which is the source of all life and the everlasting home of my soul. Amen.