Today is a Sunday with a split personality. It is both Palm Sunday and Passion Sunday. Colors turn blood red in stark reminder of what lies ahead. Our worship starts with the upbeat Gospel telling of the party atmosphere that erupts when Jesus rides into Jerusalem. It’s a festive affair, complete with a parade route lined by palm branches.
But quickly the party’s over, and our Scripture lessons turn dark as we fast-forward to Friday and the stark story of the Lord’s passion and death. Yes, the story is harsh. But it is bearable only because we already know its happy ending.
Jesus doesn’t instigate his own parade. Instead, the force of his humble presence alone inspires the multitude to shout out and praise God. When the religious leaders try to silence the crowd, Jesus denies their censorship, proclaiming that strong emotion isn’t the point – for even the stones would cry out if they were silent.
It takes wisdom to know when our voice is needed and when it’s just noise. During Holy Week, between stony silences and snarky shouts, solidarity arises from the shared experience of witnessing what we humans can do to each other – and the lengths we go to make it all make sense.
On a borrowed donkey from a gracious neighbor, on crowd-sourced paths accompanied by loud rejoicing, Jesus weeps on arrival in Jerusalem. Jesus weeps, knowing full well what we humans are capable of doing to each other. The Lord rode right into what the stones of time have seen: criminalization and death-dealing decisions, dehumanization and denial of dignity, disregard for expansive beauty.
What would stones shout?
What do you shout? What do you silence?
Listen for the Word of the Lord …