Palm Sunday

At the end of the First World War, Woodrow Wilson was an international hero. In Europe, he was greeted by cheering crowds who believed that this was the last war and now everything would be all right. The good will didn’t last long. At home, Wilson did not have the support he needed to carry out his vision for the League of Nations. His health began to decline. A man who had been declared a messiah by many came to the end of his days a broken and defeated man.

Wilson’s story was a sad one, but not all that unusual. The ultimate reward for someone who tries to translate ideals into reality is apt to be defeat. That seemed to be true for Jesus. Coming into Jerusalem, he appears to be a smashing success. After three years of journeying through Judea and Galilee, the disciples really believe that he has come to save them. Lining the streets, the crowds proclaimed hosanna!
They were pleading for Jesus to save them, but as you and I know, they and their leaders didn’t give him the chance. The cheering soon turned to jeers, when they realized that his notion of kingship wasn’t what they had in mind.

Two thousand years later, many are still cheering him, for they have seen that the only way to be truly saved is to follow Jesus not selectively but totally and passionately.

Moments ago, we waved palms, welcoming the king of glory into our midst. Our faith in Jesus is like these palms. On holy days, like Christmas and Easter, or significant celebrations of the sacraments, our faith is as rich and green as these palms are today. But when our faith starts to pull at our conscience, when we hear Jesus pointing us to a course we would not rather take, when our pursuit of the American dream demands that we cut a few moral and ethical corners, we may find our faith to be as dry and brittle as last year’s palms. Once these palms are tucked away, will we have forgotten the praises we sang moments ago?

Many who waved palm branches to welcome Jesus were either party to his death or stood by silently when he was crucified. We who wave these branches today won’t be party to his death but we could do worse, looking past him instead.

Perhaps we are doing that right now. When the times are good, it is easy to look to Jesus, grateful for all that we have. But when the times are tough, do we act like the apostles did and run away?

A history student once claimed that since Americans were religious people, churches were overflowing during the great depression. His professor challenged him to do some research before making such a claim. He discovered that in 1933, the deepest year of the depression, church attendance plummeted. During times of adversity, stress, economic upheaval, many once faithful Christians fled their Christ, as though they were saying, “You let me down, Lord. Good by!”

Scripture Scholar, Sr. Diane Bergant, theorizes, “It is too easy to say that the people were fickle, one moment supporting Jesus and the next rejecting him. It was probably more a case of frustrated expectations.” That makes sense. How often do we give up on people when our hopes aren’t met? Are we doing the same with Jesus? Only when we begin to recognize the depth of God’s love, revealed in Christ, will we become faithful rather than fickle followers.

Holy Week is a time for us to embrace Christ more than ever. When the demands of daily life are enough to make us scream, when a relationship is ready to crumble, when there seems to be no hope on the horizon, we must seek him out for he, the Christ, is there to save us.  Instead of denying him, as Peter did, we need to proclaim our faith all the more to a world that remains leery that Jesus Christ is truly the messiah, the one sent by God to save us. This week gives us much opportunity to reflect on who Jesus truly is for us as we gather to prayerfully witness the drama of his passion and resurrection during the Triduum.

Whether green or cracked, pliant or brittle, may these palms remind us daily that Christ is present to us in every season of our lives; that despite the many Good Fridays we may encounter in the year ahead, Easter will always dawn.