Based on the Passion according to Luke - Luke 22:39-23:56

The liturgy for Palm Sunday is a drama that cannot help but move us.  Our Lenten journey suddenly becomes tumultuous.  It takes us through the whole gamut of emotional response. 

Today’s journey begins with the triumphal ride of Jesus into the city of Jerusalem.  We are swept along the city streets as part of the crowd.  With the disciples and friends of Jesus we cheer him on shouting "Hosanna! Save us!" 

We sit at the table with Jesus and the disciples, passing the cup of wine and breaking bread.  We hear Jesus' words interpreting the bread and wine in relation to his imminent death. 

We find ourselves in the garden of Gethsemane, agonizing with Jesus.  There in a state of turmoil, he spends the night in an agony of doubt praying his anguished prayer.  Like the disciples, we fight sleep but finally give in, exhausted by the events of the day.  

We feel a deep sense of grief as Jesus is betrayed by one of his closest friends.  We watch with Peter and the disciples from a safe distance as he is taken away to appear before Pilate.  We feel the sense of shock and unbelief, as he is condemned to death.  Still we find ourselves joining in with the crowd shouting our taunts of "Crucify!" 

We feel pain and confusion as we stand with the disciples at the foot of the cross.  All hope is gone as he is executed along with two murderers. 

We follow to the tomb; we see his body laid out for burial.  We scatter in confusion. 

For many who have seen Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ, the story becomes even more tumultuous.  Many of you will know that I grappled with whether or not to go to the movie at all.  In the end, I decided I needed to go.  I knew that I could not simply ignore it.  It has opened up the way for me to enter into meaningful dialogue with people about its content. 

Over the past couple of weeks, we have heard many sides of the story; anti-Semitic graffiti, testimonial about how moving the story is, questions about the Christian faith, denial that Christ died at all.  The most moving testimony for me was the reaction of people leaving the theatre.  The experience was far more like joining with mourners following the casket from the church after a funeral than leaving a theatre after a movie.  There was a sense of awe; the audience was hushed, reverent, prayerful.

Some young people told me that if that was my God they didn’t want anything to do with Christianity.  A neighbour told me that it persuaded her to renew her relationship with the church.  “I came away feeling as if I had to do something about it,” she said to me.  “I feel so guilty about all the years I have not gone to church.  If God did that for me …” A friend told me that it left her feeling totally bereft.  I myself came away feeling numbed by its sheer violence and terror.   It was a graphic portrayal of a terrible event.  It bore on the whole a reasonable portrayal of the gospel story.  However, I cannot say that the movie portrayed the true message of the Passion.   For that we need to look at why we tell the story year after year. 

Is it our fascination with violence?  Is it because bloodshed is so commonplace in our lives anyway?  Are we so used to seeing it on television and in our newspapers that we need the grisly reminder?  Are we hungry for the tragic?  Do we want to assuage our sense of guilt with the reminder that there is nothing we could have done differently?  Do we want to lay blame on others?  Do we believe that our participation in the passion of Christ is a necessary sacrifice? 

Hopefully we do not come together as church out of a sense of duty or shame, nor are we here to make atonement for our sinfulness.  We are here to be reminded of what God has done for us.  We are here to celebrate the great gift of salvation that God has offered us in the death of Christ.   

We are here to confess, not our sins and our brokenness, but our hope – our hope in the resurrection.  It was not for our wickedness that Christ died, but for our weakness. 

We are called to be here at the foot of the cross.  We are called to be here at the foot of the cross because God will not let death have the final say.  God will not let death separate us from the great love of a great God. 

From our place at the foot of the cross we know fear, sorrow, grief, pain, and confusion, but we know too God’s glory and love.  There is hope from that vantage point as we look out on God’s new creation.  We can view the cross as the greatest of failures.  Or we can recognize and be convinced of God's great love and compassion for humanity.  In that death, God suffered and died.  That is the measure of God's love.  Can we understand the love behind the cross?  Can we take it and transform it into a thing of loveliness and glory that inspires us and others to take up that cross and follow those steps?  For in dying Jesus showed us God's glory and passionate love.  There was no other way.  There is no other way but the way of the cross.