16th March 2008PALM SUNDAY
Fr David Cherry
Matthew 21 : 1 – 11; Isaiah 50 : 4 – 9a; Philippians 2 : 5 – 11 ; Matthew 26 : 14 – 27 : 66
What is it like to be alongside someone who is dying? Some of us will know what this is like; and for each of us it will be different, unique.
Where time is wasted, something deeper is gained. As Jesus is stripped, his glory is revealed.
To be alongside a loved one who is dying, whose life is ebbing away;
(to enter in on this week) attending to Another, the Beloved, is to
notice how the rest of life, falls into relief; how the hours stretch
out, the emptiness, the silence. You may notice that you
are drawn to God, wanting more; at times you may notice that your
attention wanes and you become restless. One doesn’t quite know
what to do as you watch and wait. We are so used to
distraction, so used to distracting ourselves.
You may notice that you feel confused, even bored, as something else,
something more than our preoccupations takes their place. You may
want to stay away from the one who is dying – you end up thinking
too much. It’s laborious - this dying business. You
may not simply be able to stop work altogether this week, (neither can
I) but underneath the stuff of life, try to keep the mood of the week
in your heart. My God is going to his death for me. Avoid
entertainment, avoid the virtuosity of distraction, avoid the habitual
socialising. Hold onto the feelings to enter a different pace.
In the liturgies of Holy Week which begin today we experience and
participate in an extended contemplation over a week. In fact, it
is one long liturgy as we recall and allow ourselves to be present to
the last events in the Life of Our Lord, stage by stage, event by event.
We do this not in some kind of morbid belief that suffering is good or
as some macabre baroque devotion. We do it in order to be close
to the one we love because He has loved us. Here, in these
contemplations, is our God in Christ pouring out his life for you and
me. We stay by him, we linger so that we may receive new insight,
about who he is and – and also of course - who we are.
There is an ‘as if” about all this. The Liturgy
enacts it ‘as if’ it is happening now; ‘as if’
we are there. And that is of the essence of
contemplation. We recall what happened then to be present
to it now so that it can come home to us ; and have an effect on us in
the now to change who we are.
And we do this because these events hold some Truth, some fruit for
us. God in Christ is accomplishing the salvation of all the
world. What is that like for me? There is nothing to
get right. It is simply a matter of being and noticing, wondering
and attending to Another.
And this is strange, dramatically counter-cultural. The Truth of
who God is to us cannot be gained by effort or acquisition. It
cannot be grasped. It has to be surrendered to. At a
death-bed of a beloved, you cannot do anything, except hold a hand,
wait, pray. You are drawn towards being there with the
beloved. You find yourself powerless with them. And the
memories coming flooding back, the gratitude, but also the regret; the
joys fulfilled but also the hope for more – eternity, reunion,
resurrection.
Where expectations of what we think ought to be die, hope is born;
where life is given up, new life is restored. Where time is
wasted, something deeper is gained. As Jesus is stripped, his
glory is revealed. As Jesus is de-humanised the glory of his
divinity is apparent. The worst that humanity can do in striking
God, the more the living fountain of life flows.
So now we join the great throng which greets his coming to Jerusalem
where salvation is to be accomplished. We find ourselves hailing
him as Messiah, only to find that we, part of that same crowd, will
also want his death. Crucify him!
These contemplations lie before us. Today we enter in on them and proceed through the great Mysteries of our Holy Week.
Amen