“As the Parade Passes By”

by Bruce J. Johnson

March 24, 2002. Palm/Passion Sunday

Matthew 21: 1-11

 

 

Some would say that it’s been a great weekend for television. First, both UCONN basketball teams are still traveling on their respective ‘Roads to the Final Four! We had a Husky men’s victory on Friday night; a women’s victory yesterday and the men play again tonight and then tomorrow, another women’s game. In between those two games, though, we have the Oscars, the show that honors the movies and their actors and actresses for being the ‘best.’ In his book, Living a Life That Matters, Rabbi Harold Kushner makes some observations about ol’ Oscar that intrigued me.

He writes:

“Every year, on an evening in late March, tens of millions of Americans stay up late to watch the motion-picture industry present its Academy Awards. The coveted Oscars are given to the best director, the best actor and actress, the best movie, and the best in other categories. Among the prestigious awards given out are those for the best male and best female actor in a supporting role.

 

I’ve have always been intrigued by the supporting-role category. I don’t know what it is like to direct a movie. I have no idea what goes into composing a musical score or designing costumes. But I know the feeling--- I suspect we all know the feeling--- of being a supporting actor in other people’s movies, not being in the spotlight but doing things that shape and drive the plot.”  (p. 126.)

 

We come together this morning for worship on Palm Sunday, a day that begins the most sacred of holy weeks in church life, a week filled with high drama for it leads to and through the Passion of Christ. We know where the spotlight is aimed and on whom. All those other characters about whom we read-- the disciples, the scribes and Pharisees, the Romans and the crowd, even the donkey, are cast in supporting roles. And in some ways, as we reenact and reflect on our places in the drama, so are we, in like manner, cast in supporting roles, shaping and driving the plot. The final scene of this drama, however, is never done because it continues to call all viewers and hearers into its purpose and promise, indeed, into its mystery.

In preparation for this morning, I consulted my files. I found it interesting to discover that three years ago when I preached on this passage from the Gospel according to Matthew, I focussed first on the Lead Actor—actually on the question being asked about Him by the city which was so stirred:

“Who is this?”

 

This year, the question that seems most important, (maybe because of September 11th and the extraordinary responses made by so many ordinary people) is not “Who is this?” but “Who are we?”  As this parade passes by, knowing what we know about those in it,

The disciples—one who betrays Him with a kiss, another who denies Him and all who abandon Him;

The scribes and Pharisees, so fearful of losing their power, who plot to condemn Him,

The Romans who crucify Him

And the crowd who cheered him one day but called for his death but days later.

 

nobody comes off very well. And we are challenged to see ourselves in them and reflect on how we can be different.

So, the more pressing question seems to be:

    “Who are we—that we could do such things?”

        “Who do we need to be—not to do them?”

 

Kushner tells a story about a Native American tribal leader describing his own inner struggles.

He said, “There are two dogs inside me. One of the dogs is mean and evil. The other dog is good. The mean dog fights the good dog all the time.”

Someone asked him which dog usually wins, and after a moment’s reflection, he answered,

“The one I feed the most.” (pp. 58-59) 

 

Well, during this Holy Week we are challenged to feed the ‘good inner self’ so that in this time of darkness, our presence will be source of hope and promise and goodness and faith.

There is an ancient Chinese proverb that goes as follows:

“If there is light in the soul,

There will be beauty in the person.

If there is beauty in the person,

There will be harmony in the house.

If there is harmony in the house,

There will be order in the nation.

If there is order in the nation,

There will be peace in the world.”

              

One of my favorite lines from any of the Palm Sunday narratives is taken from Luke where Jesus first weeps over the city before entering it and then laments: “Would that even now they knew the things that make for peace.”

 

Of course, he knew that ultimately the thing that makes for peace is to have light in the soul--- His light!

 

When I look at Holy Week, which begins with Palm Sunday, I see the commencement of a process during which the light in too many souls is extinguished and with it, albeit momentarily, the promise of beauty, order and peace.

 

This morning’s lesson does end, as I have said before, with these words:

“And when he entered Jerusalem, all the city was stirred saying,

“Who is this?”

And the crowds said, “This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee.”

You know, I once read that a prophet is not a man who tells the future but a man who tells the truth. 

 

If that is true, and I think that is, then perhaps Pearl Bailey was also right when she said:  “You never find yourself until you face the truth.”

And it was the great Pascal who said: “We know truth not only by reason but by the heart."

 

As the parade passes by today, it is the heart that is on the line—our hearts as they shape and drive the plot in a supporting role. “A Beautiful Mind” may well win the Oscar tonight but it is the beautiful heart that changes the world.

 

Rachel Naimi Remen, in her book Kitchen Table Wisdom, tells s beautiful Sufi story about a man who is so good and loving that the angels ask God to give him the gift of miracles. God wisely tells them to ask him if that is what he would wish.

 

So the angels visit this good man and offer him fist the gift of healing by hands, then the gift of conversion of souls and lastly the gift of virtue. He refuses them all. They insist that he choose a gift or they will choose one for him. “Very well,” he replies. “I ask that I may do a great deal of good without ever knowing it.”

The story ends this way:

The angels were perplexed. They took counsel and resolved upon the following plan: Every time the saint’s shadow fell behind him it would have the power to cure disease, soothe pain and comfort sorrow. As he walked, behind him his shadow made arid paths green, caused withered plants to bloom, gave clear water to dried up brooks, fresh color to pale children, and joy to unhappy men and women. The saint simply went about his daily life diffusing virtue as the stars diffuse light and flowers scent, without ever being aware of it. The people, respecting his humility, followed him silently, never speaking to him about his miracles. Soon they even forgot his name and called him simply, “the Holy Shadow.”      (pp. 245-46)

 

As the parade passes by this morning, we’re not asking “who is this?” but “Who am I?” or “Who are we?” and the answer comes back that amidst the shadows cast by persons whose light no longer shines—we choose to walk with light in our souls, love in our hearts and goodness in our deeds.

 

                                                                                           Amen