Sunday, April 13, 2014

4th Passiontide, Palm Sunday 2014, Kingdom of the Dead

4th Passiontide

Palm Sunday
Matthew 21: 1-11
Entry into the City, John August Swanson

And they approached Jerusalem and came to Bethphage by the Mount of Olives. Then Jesus sent two disciples ahead and said to them, “Go to the village which you see before you, and at once you will find a donkey tied there and her foal with her. Untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, tell him that the Lord needs them, and he will let you take them right away.”

This took place to fulfill what was spoken through the prophet:

‘Say to the daughter of Zion,
Behold, your king comes to you in majesty.
Gentle is He, and He rides on a donkey and on a foal of the beast of burden.’

The disciples went and did as Jesus had instructed them. They brought the donkey and the foal, placed their garments on them, and Jesus sat on them.
           
Many out of the large crowd spread their clothes on the road, while others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. The crowds that went ahead of them and followed Him shouted:

Hosanna to the Son of David!
Blessed is he who comes in the Name and Power of the Lord!
Hosannah in the highest! [Sing to Him in the highest heights!]

When Jesus entered Jerusalem, the whole city was stirred and asked, “Who is he?” The crowds answered, “This is Jesus, the prophet from Nazareth in Galilee.”

4th Passiontide, Palm Sunday
April 13, 2014
Matthew 21: 1-11

Kingdom of the Dead, Peter Callesen
We are entering Holy Week. The altar and vestments are black. In this week Christ battles the forces of duality, the forces of black and white. These are the false polarities of either /or, the black and white, yes/no of dead binary thinking. Good or bad. Heaven or Hell. By the end of the week he will enter into the Place of the Skull. He will die, and rise again.

Christ exists in the living world of flow, of change and transformation. He operates in the changing subtleties of the grayscale, in the nuances of color. His opponents ask Him questions designed to entrap Him. He gives them answers from outside of their framework, answers from the flowing world of a greater reality.

Today we still battle with the kind of deadness that our brain-bound intellect so easily falls into. We still tend to manifest one or the other of the ill-making polarities in the way we think, thus closing ourselves off from greater possibilities. Nevertheless, we strain to open our thoughts in reverence. We struggle to warm our hearts in empathy. We strive to act according to the inspiration of our conscience, our higher self.

In those moments when we manage reverence of  thought, when we generate heart’s love, when we do deeds of conscience, in those moments Christ can operate in the world. In such moments Christ is in us.  It is he that thinks in us, suffers in us, dies and rises in us. As Rilke says,

To work with Things in the indescribable
relationship is not too hard for us;
the pattern grows more intricate and subtle,
Take your practiced powers and stretch them out
until they span the chasm between two
contradictions ... For the god
wants to know himself in you.[1]







[1] Rainer Maria Rilke, in Ahead of All Parting, ed. and translated by Steven Mitchell



4th Passiontide 2013, Bright Wedge of Freedom

Lorenzetti
4th Passiontide
Palm Sunday
Matthew 21: 1-11

And they approached Jerusalem and came to Bethphage by the Mount of Olives. Then Jesus sent two disciples ahead and said to them, “Go to the village which you see before you, and at once you will find a donkey tied there and her foal with her. Untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, tell him that the Lord needs them, and he will let you take them right away.”

This took place to fulfill what was spoken through the prophet:

‘Say to the daughter of Zion,
Behold, your king comes to you in majesty.
Gentle is He, and He rides on a donkey and on a foal of the beast of burden.’

The disciples went and did as Jesus had instructed them. They brought the donkey and the foal, placed their garments on them, and Jesus sat on them.
           
Many out of the large crowd spread their clothes on the road, while others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. The crowds that went ahead of them and followed Him shouted:

Hosanna to the Son of David!
Blessed is he who comes in the Name and Power of the Lord!
Hosannah in the highest! [Sing to Him in the highest heights!]

When Jesus entered Jerusalem, the whole city was stirred and asked, “Who is he?” The crowds answered, “This is Jesus, the prophet from Nazareth in Galilee.”

4th Passiontide,
Hippolyte Flandrin
Palm Sunday
March 24, 2013
Matthew 21: 1-11

Vessels, a jar, a bowl, carry contents. The content is on the inside, and the vessel surrounds it. But there is a complementary gesture; the person carrying the bowl carries both the bowl and its contents.

Christ Jesus enters Jerusalem borne on a beast of burden and its foal. This animal is a symbol of our physical body. The body bears the weight of our destiny and of our deeds. In the picture language of this symbol, Christ is both inside and outside. Christ is the content of the vessel of the body of Jesus; Jesus’ body is the vessel for Christ’s spirit of love. And at the same time, Christ rides above the bodily beast of burden. And he guides it regally toward its own suffering and death, and toward its resurrection.

We too are spiritual beings carried within a bodily vessel. Our body as a beast of destiny’s burden carries us, too, ultimately toward the end of earthly life that we all must approach.

But our hearts can connect with Christ. He can be the content of our souls, the ‘small, bright wedge of freedom in your own heart’,[1] as the poet says. And at the same time, He can be both content and the One carrying the vessel. Our heart’s connection with Christ gives us One who rides with us, guides us. He is riding both the old beast of destiny’s burden, and the young foal which will carry us into the future. He accompanies us on our journey with His strength and love.





[1] David Whyte, “The Journey”.