Palm Sunday
Luke 19:29-40; Luke 22:39-23:56
The Rev. Kristin E. Orr
The Episcopal Church of St. John the Evangelist


"May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be always acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our strength and our redeemer.  Amen"

Palm Sunday

The Book of Common Prayer has a provision that allows for the Nicene Creed (and, potentially, the Confession of Sin) to be omitted on Palm Sunday if the liturgy of the palms has preceded the celebration of the Holy Eucharist. We will omit the Creed today. As best I can remember, this is the only circumstance in which it is permissible to omit the creed on a Sunday. The Confession is always optional. It is also my understanding that in the Lutheran Church no sermon is offered on this day. Our liturgy never allows for the omission of the sermon. I cannot speak for Lutheran liturgical theology, but the provisions of our Prayer Book are not offered just in consideration of time. It is a common misconception that Episcopal services must, by divine decree, last no more than 55 minutes. We do not skip the creed simply because the Passion Gospel is long. Saving time is not the point. The point is the very nature of our corporate worship on this day and the way that we participate in that worship.

In the Christianity 101 class that I was teaching during Lent, we talked about church, and I pointed out that the phrase "going to church" is a very odd one. Although very common, it is a meaningless statement. Christians do not "go to" church or "attend" church. We are the church. Christians… us… the people are the church. As the church, one of the things we do is gather as a community in worship. We are the church. We come together to do worship, to participate as worshippers.

Palm Sunday, perhaps more strikingly than any other Sunday in the church year, demands our (your!) active participation in worship. This is a day of action, of involvement, of doing. The Gospel stories are action stories, both the Gospel appointed for the liturgy of the palms and the Passion Gospel. On this day we do not hear parables or teachings or theological treatises. Just think of the action in these stories. A parade with Jesus riding on an unbroken colt. (I have to think there was a little more action there than the Bible tells us.) Cheering crowds. Even the stones—and what could seem less active than a stone—even the stones will sing out, become active on this day. And the drama of the passion with the arrest in the garden, Jesus’ so-called trial, Peter’s denial, the crucifixion, the salvation of the thief who repented. These are action stories, and in the worship for this day, we are intended to be a part of the action in these stories.

This is not a day to just sit back and listen to stories or to debate points of doctrine. It is not a day to focus on what these stories mean in terms of systematic, creedal statement of belief. For Lutherans evidently this is not even a day to talk about the Gospel stories. On Palm Sunday we are the story.

The Prayer Book explicitly states: "When circumstances permit, the congregation may gather at a place apart from the church, so that all may go into the church in procession." "During the procession, all hold branches in their hands, and appropriate hymns, psalms or anthems are sung." We do not just listen to the story about some Palm Sunday thousands of years ago. Nor is this a historical reenactment with period costumes and a picnic afterwards like a gathering of Civil War hobbyists. This is more; this is real. We are the story. Today. We walk. From the outdoor altar into the church. We hold real palms in our own hands. We cry Hosanna. With our own voices we proclaim Jesus as our Messiah and welcome him into our own lives today. We celebrate his arrival on the streets of Flossmoor. We cheer him through the gates into this temple of worship as we jostle one another to follow him through these doors.

This is how we do worship on this day. Now, some among our parish community are too young to hold a palm or to pronounce hosanna. Some in our parish fellowship are not physically able to walk in procession around downtown Flossmoor. You should not feel guilty or left out. Part of being part of a community is sharing our common life. We all walk together; we all raise our voices together. If… on this day… those who can walk, do actually walk. And those who can shout hosanna, shout loud enough for us all. If, as a community, we actively participate in Palm Sunday, then everyone is included in that participation.

Shouting and waving and wandering about are not what Episcopalians typically associate with "going" to church. But it is what we do, as the church, on this day. And if that feels uncomfortable… well, Holy Week is not about feeling comfortable.

The Prayer Book, the book of our community’s common worship, is also quite explicit about the reading of the Gospel on this day. "The Passion Gospel may be read or chanted by lay persons. Specific roles may be assigned to different persons, the congregation taking the part of the crowd." This isn’t just to lend dramatic interest to a long Gospel reading. The voices in the Gospel are your voices. The last bit of the Prayer Book instructions is probably the most important. The congregation takes the voice of the crowd. Everyone cries: "crucify him." Our anger at anyone who disturbs our own ambition is in that cry. Our impatience and selfishness and whiney self-centeredness are in that cry. Our indifference and dismissal of God’s holiness are in that cry. Crucify him. We, who this day with our own voices claim Jesus as our Messiah with eager shouts of hosanna also, with our own voices, condemn him to death. Crucify him.

There would be no harm in saying the Creed today. Its theological tenets describe our faith just as truly today as any day. But it would be redundant and anti-climactic. Today we do not merely describe our faith; we live it. We experience it. Today is about more than what we believe or intellectually affirm; it is about what we do, what we say, our participation, as Christians, in the passion story. In the liturgy of the Palms and the procession we do more than describe Jesus as Lord, the only Son of God, who for our salvation came down from heaven. We proclaim him as our Messiah and Lord as we wave palms and shout hosanna. In the Passion Gospel we do even more than affirm that he "was crucified under Pontius Pilate, suffered death and was buried." We, with our voices, send him to the cross. And in a bit, as we do every time we gather on Sunday, the Lord’s day, we will break bread at his table and partake, with the resurrected Christ, of his kingdom that will have no end.

Holy Week is so much more than something we "observe" by "going to church". This week is full of things that we, as the church, do. On Thursday we wash one another’s feet. We share an agape meal together. We watch and pray in the garden, hour by hour through the night. On Friday we look upon and touch a real wooden cross. At the Vigil we witness the birth of the Easter light. We carry that awesome light into this space and we literally, physically share the Light of Christ, lighting one another’s candles, spreading the Light of Christ by our own hands throughout this community. We have a lot to do during this holy week. We have a lot to do before Easter comes.


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