Will Fitzgerald
Palm Sunday, 2009
Rough notes
It’s somewhat interesting to note how the “palm” image plays out in the different gospels. This is one of those relatively rare events that are recorded in all four gospels. In John, the people take branches of palm trees and go out to meet him. They seem to raise the branches high (as we do on a typical Palm Sunday celebration). In the other three gospels, cloaks or cloaks and branches are used to make the way more comfortable for Jesus as he arrives — there is no suspension on a donkey!
Palms were — and still are — a victor’s symbol. We still speak of someone “winning their palms.”
Palms are called “palms” in English — as well as Greek and Latin — because of their similarity to the human palm. When they raised their palm branches, this was like an exaggeration of raising their hands. This is a kind of peacock behavior. It expresses, I think, the kinds of feelings we have when we are in the presence of a famous person:
When we are in this situation, we are definitely influenced by the crowd around you — you couldn’t do “the wave” alone; the people around you make you excited or make you angry.
Here’s the thing — we know what will happen in the next week: the crowd will turn on him. We know because we’ve read the story.
This is a cautionary tale about seeking fame: the crowd can turn on you as well as raise you up.
It reminded me of the story of Grace Darling; a story that Bess told me recently. Grace Darling was a Victorian-era young woman who lived in a lighthouse with her parents and brothers; they were lighthouse keepers and rescuers. One night, the steamship Forfarshire broke into two; none of her brothers were home, so she went out into the storm with her father to try to save people; they were able to save nine. At the inquest of the accident, Grace was praised for her bravery.
It made the papers, and she became an instant celebrity. She received hundreds of letters; people asked for a cutting from her clothes; we was asked to sit for portraits. As a good Victorian young woman, she felt compelled to answer every letter and request. Always a bit delicate, she died just a few years later from “consumption.” But her fame kind of ruined her life.
Jesus’s fame was to soon lead to his death; it’s not always a good thing for your health to be famous; perhaps it’s better to just remain about our business.
It is also a cautionary tale about following Jesus when he is popular and when he is not. We may fail like Peter, but we have Peter’s story, and this crowds’ story to remind us that we need to stick with Jesus when he is popular and when he is not.
Another story: once, Sojourner Truth was at a camp meeting, when a group of ruffians attacked the camp. At over six foot tall, and the only African-American at the camp, and a woman at that, she stuck out and was worried about being attacked. For a while, she hid, but then thought:
Shall I run away hide from the Devil? Me, a servant of the living God? Have I not faith enough to go out and quell that mob, when I know it is written—“One shall chase a thousand, and two put ten thousand to flight”? I know there are not a thousand here; and I know I am servant of the living God. I’ll go to the rescue, and the Lord shall go with and protect me.
So, she went to the top of a hillock and began to sing:
It was early in the morning—it was early in the morning,
Just at the break of day—
When he rose—when he rose—when he rose,
And went to heaven on a cloud.
Her singing so enchanted the ruffians that they stopped their attack, and came to listen. She talked and talked to them, and finally got them to promise to leave if she sang one more song. She sang, and they reluctantly left—although there were some in their midst who wanted to return to wreak havoc.
So, we too should not seek for fame, but strive to be good followers of Jesus whether or not Jesus is popular with the crowd just then—crowds and mobs can change quickly.