A Sermon for Sunday, March 24, 2024. Emory Presbyterian Church. Palm Sunday. John 12:12-19
Throughout the season of Lent we have been engaging the theme, Wandering Heart: Figuring out faith with Peter. One of Jesus’ most famous disciples, Peter is both a steadfast and unsteady in his discipleship, a friend and betrayer, and a follower and a wanderer—a very normal human trying to understand life and spirituality just like us.
Let us briefly reflect on Peter’s journey with Jesus thus far: Peter caught an abundance of fish after being instructed to cast his net in deep waters and was then called to drop everything and follow Jesus. Next, Peter walked on water and reached out to Jesus for rescue when he started sinking. Then, he confidently declared his beliefs and was told to get out of Jesus’ way for refusing to believe that Jesus will be killed. He also asked questions about how to practice forgiveness and learned about the expansiveness of God’s grace.
Now the story takes a most precarious turn as Peter, the other disciples and Jesus enter Jerusalem for their teacher’s final days on earth. Peter, of course, is not mentioned in the Palm Sunday account that Christians across the globe observe today, however he plays a prominent role in the events that unfold at the end of Holy Week. For Palm Sunday, we will have to rely on our creative minds and imagine where Peter might be in the parade and how he is participating in this incredible spectacle.
Rev. Lisle Gwynn Garrity, founder of A Sanctified Art, the creators of the Lenten theme, offers an interpretation through her art piece, Then They Remembered, which is featured on the cover of your bulletin and the communion table. She writes:
In the Matthew, Mark, and Luke versions of Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem, two unnamed disciples follow Jesus’ orders to retrieve a colt. In these accounts, the disciples actively participate in the parade, laying down their cloaks and singing praise. In contrast, John’s version of this story provides minimal details, and the disciples are hardly mentioned at all. However, the text does a unique thing: it breaks the fourth wall to tell us something important:
“His disciples did not understand these things at first, but when Jesus was glorified, then they remembered.”
Is Peter at the parade? Does he lay down his cloak and follow the others? Does he sing songs of loudest praise? Or is he lost in the cacophony of the crowds, confused by and afraid of what is taking place? Maybe he is thinking about the blur of events in the days just before: Lazarus raised from the dead, Jesus anointed in Bethany, the crowds knocking down their doors, the plot to kill Jesus and Lazarus swelling like a darkened, fast-approaching sky. They didn’t understand at first, but then they remembered.
This image attempts to visualize these two locations in time and space. On the left, Peter looks out from the palm procession—his eyes glazed over as he watches Jesus riding into the city where he will surely meet his death. As the crowds sing “Hosanna!” for a new, soon- to-be-killed-king, the dissonance of the scene causes Peter to tremble—like a guitar string snapped suddenly mid-tune.
In the top right is Peter’s mirror image. In this mirage, we glimpse the future. Peter stands aghast at the empty tomb, waves of hope and relief rushing through him like a river of grace, the remembering happening all at once—like a childhood song plucked from memory, like the refrain of a chorus that won’t let you go: it’s true, it’s true, thank God it’s true.
Like Peter, followers of Christ often have a range of emotions during Holy Week. The story whose ending we know and are invited to remember again and again is heavy and intense because opposing forces and ideologies are colliding all in the same place. And people’s behavior also changes completely in a short amount of time.
Jesus, riding from the east, enters Jerusalem on a donkey while the Roman governor, Pontius Pilate, arrives to the city from the west, accompanied by an imperial calvary. Jesus’ procession proclaims the peaceable kindom or beloved community of God and Pilate’s proclaims the violent power of empire.
The crowds who shout “Hosanna!” and acknowledge Jesus will, in six days, shout “Crucify him!” having been convinced by the religious authorities that they have no king but the emperor, Caesar.
The disciples who have always been by their rabbi’s side will disperse when Jesus is apprehended because they are frightened that Roman soldiers might also capture them. And Peter, the fervent believer who once loudly declared Jesus’ kingship, will deny knowing his friend and mentor because he too is afraid that his fate will be the same as Jesus.
The excitement of Palm Sunday will turn to fearful, guilt-ridden silence by Good Friday.
As God’s beloved children, we are essentially celebrating the arrival of a Messiah who will save and transform the world not by brute force but by dying a gruesome death on a cross. And perhaps we get so swept up in the pageantry and praise that we temporarily forget that Jesus’s purpose for visiting Jerusalem is not to attend a grand party in his honor. Instead, Jesus comes to the city to be killed—to sacrifice his mind, body, and heart in solidarity with the oppressed, marginalized and hurting people, all of whom live in a world that has become cruel and broken.
Through his dying, the violent, death-wielding authorities are exposed for killing the non-violent and unconditionally loving manifestation of God; and humanity for all of history are liberated from the sin that traps us in selfishness, deceit, and hate.
The questions we must ask as Jesus approaches his demise are: will we still sing songs of praise from our hearts when the observance of Jesus’ death is upon us? Or will we withdraw into the shadows, terrified of stating our beliefs in Christ and sharing God’s love and grace with those who society deems unworthy?
Will we stay stuck in grief and misery because it seems as if there is an absence of light and grace around? Or will we find songs of hope that inspire us to persevere, and that give us the energy to help serve people in need and bring justice, healing, and wholeness to despairing communities?
Will we recall seasons in our faith journey where we’ve experienced confusion and uncertainty? Will we find clarity by looking back at those troublesome and painful moments with a fresh perspective? Will we cling to the God who has guided us through previous trials and tribulations and who has provided, and will always provide, us with a greater understanding of ourselves, and our relationships with one another and the Divine.
Let us find out together as we continue to figure out faith with Peter in the harsh days ahead. Let us be courageous witnesses to the love of God that will challenge and stretch our faith forever, especially in the direst of circumstances. Let us remember that what seems like the end is the start of something brand new and life-giving. Let us remember. Let us sing. Let us wander.
And all God’s people shouted: Hosanna, amen!
georgia preach 