It begins…

Our Mass today begins with a Gospel reading about Palm Sunday. About an eager and enthusiastic crowd chanting: “Hosanna to the Son of David!”. 

Our Holy Week today begins with Jesus’ triumphant entrance into the city of Jerusalem as the culmination of a long pilgrimage from his home and a ministry of doing his Father’s bidding, of healing, of teaching us all about forgiveness, salvation, and the only true path to everlasting peace.

It begins…

But I wonder, where does it end? And more importantly, where will you and I be when it ends?

For many of us, our faith lives begin full of anticipation for the Lord, ready to accept the presence of divinity into our lives, and brimming with hope for all that the future might hold. We are much like the people waving palms into the air and greeting our Lord and Savior into our lives.

But then… life happens.

Let’s take a look at where this week’s story ends for the people in the crowd. Let’s look at the spoken lines that you all just recited in the Passion reading as you stood in for those very people who were there to welcome Jesus on that day into the holy city… those who were there and filled with all that enthusiasm and excitement.

At the end of that week, some of them gathered in a crowded amphitheater and were given the chance to vote for the release of Barabbas or for the release of Jesus. They stood in judgement, with Jesus’ life hanging in the balance. And they shouted at the tops of their lungs: “Let him be crucified!”

We can blame the scheming Pharisees for Jesus’ death. We can accuse Caiaphas, the Jewish leader who plotted the arrest, we can call out Pilate for issuing the final command. But we can also point to the crowd… who by their decision could have saved him.

If we’re being honest, don’t we also sometimes choose Barabbas over Jesus? 

At the end of that week, others withdrew in fear of being found out, discovered, revealed for the one they followed, and then possibly facing the same fate as him. They were silent. They were hiding in the shadows. 

If we’re being honest, don’t we also sometimes hide what we truly believe? 

And at the end of the week, others lay at the foot of the cross. Some, like Mary his mother, the disciple John, and Mary Magdalene… looked up at the man they loved and wept. They stayed. And they saw it all.

Holy Week begins with cheers, with anticipation, with hope… but ends differently for everyone who was there.

I wonder: what is it exactly that separated those who denounced the Son of Man and called for his crucifixion? Those who slid away into the darkness of denial? And those who came to the cross and wept?

We will mark all these events over the course of this coming week. Come along and see. Come and experience. Perhaps we might find out who in that crowd best represents exactly who we are. Who we really are. 

It all begins right here.

Where will you be when it ends?