Passion or Praise?

     This last Sunday in Lent is frequently called 'Palm Sunday' because of the celebration of Jesus' triumphal entry into Jerusalem.  This year we read the story in Luke 19, where Jesus sends two of his disciples ahead to bring back a colt for him to ride.  As he rides, the crowds spread their cloaks on the road and begin to shout praises to God, and shouts of joy for all the glory they had seen.  (It is interesting to note that even though it is 'Palm Sunday' there are no palms in Luke's account of Jesus' entry.  The palm branches are found in John 12.)  Some Pharisees notice what is happening and ask Jesus to make them stop, to which Jesus responds:

I tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout out 

Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore - August 2012

And so the story of Palm Sunday goes.  Except the Sunday does not end there.  For any who are familiar with the week, we begin the day with praise and thanksgiving, shouts of joy, and end the day with the ugly shouts of betrayal and death sentences.  The marked turn of tone in such a short time is often jarring for me, as one who hears the triumphant shouts turned to hideous calls for death, as one whose palm branches of praise wither so quickly as the goodness and greatness of God are forgotten as soon as they depart my lips.

     Someone asked me last week if they thought it was possible that we are like Judas.  My answer to that is a definite and resounding, "YES!"  Not definite and resounding in the proud sense, but in examining my own heart and actions, it is obvious that Jesus is not always the first in my praise and joy, and often is betrayed by my judgmental, uncharitable thoughts and actions. 

    We read about this experience in Scripture, from Luke 22-23.  It is a longer reading on Sunday, and will be done by several people with participation from the whole congregation.   As we begin to reflect on Holy Week, beginning with the blessing and praise of Jesus and quickly turning to the passion and sorrow of Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter.  There is a great debate among many churches as to whether to give Palm Sunday its own holiday or whether, for the sake of those who can't (or choose not to) make it to the Holy Week worship services, to include the whole Passion story.

     Yet the part of Sunday's gospel that really gets me is Jesus' response to the request to silence the crowds.  When the crowds are singing praise to God, it causes disquiet and discomfort among the powerful.  Yet when the crowds are singing of crucifixion and death, no one speaks up.  When the crowds are laying down their cloaks at the feet of Jesus, the request is made to silence them.  Yet when the crowds are laying down judgement and guilt there is no one to speak for Jesus.  But, says Jesus, when we are silent even the stones will shout.  

     There is a lot of shouting in our society.  People shouting on 'news' shows, people shouting so their voice will be heard among the throng of others.  People shouting to be right, to be better, to be stronger.  And sometimes it seems that people shout just to shout.  Our world is full of shouting.  Which is maybe why it is so astonishing at the silence.  Do you notice when our world is silent?  In the gentle silence after a tragedy (before the shouting begins again)?  In the moments where there are simply no words (until the silence is filled with anger and shouting)?  When we come to the part of the Passion story where the crowd shouts:

Crucify him!  

    Crucify him!  

        Crucify him!

And it is in these moments of shouting and silence, the moments of passion and praise, where we hear the still, small voice of God.  It is the voice from the rocks that tremble at the foot of the cross that this is God's son.  It is the voice of the ground covered in cloaks that shouts for praise of God's salvation.  And, I think, that whether it is passion or praise that shout from the mouths of humans, the stones cry out.  God is merciful.  God is love.  God is life.  The mystery that remains then, is what will my shouts be?  Passion?  or Praise?