Day 40: Palm Sunday

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"The crowds preceding him and those following

kept crying out and saying:

'Hosanna to the Son of David;

blessed is the he who comes in the name of the Lord;

hosanna in the highest.'” Mt. 21:9

Today the great drama begins.  Holy Week is upon us and, even though Lent is drawing to a close, the fullness of these past forty days is only now beginning to come into focus.  And that is a hard thing for me to say. These past forty days have given me a focus I have rarely experienced in my life, but I believe that each of these days has been drawing me to what may be a deep and personal encounter with Jesus Christ this week as we Christians commemorate his suffering, death and resurrection.

The first words of the opening prayer for today's liturgy contained the line, "these past five weeks."  Upon hearing this phrase this morning I began to break into tears. These past five weeks have been a tremendous gift.  A remarkable journey.  A forty day retreat built within the context of my daily life.  My tears were tears of gratitude.  I have been truly blessed to receive so many graces this Lent.  If only for a small time, my eyes have been opened and my heart has been softened to the love and compassion of God.  To say that it has changed me would perhaps be an overstatement, for only time itself will tell the true story of what my Lenten Ramadan has revealed.  But I sense that this has been an important step for me in internalizing a faith that has always been important to me but which has not always been lived authentically and with life.

As I have begun this week I am seeing the story of Christ's passion through new lenses.  In the past, Lent has always meant austerity, suffering, a reflection on my sinfulness.  But this Lent has been very much different.  This may sound ironic since I have never lived a Lent in more austere fashion.  But there has been something about my fasting that has been liberating, hopeful, joyous.  Despite my hunger and my quasi-asceticism I have found a fullness that is most difficult to explain, but perhaps can be boiled down to this . . .  

I am living for the resurrection.

Each of these past forty days my eyes have been focused inward and outward. Inward to the hunger that is present through most of the day, yet outward to the face of Christ in family, friends, students, colleagues and strangers.  Inward in self-reflection as I have come to know myself in a more honest and intimate way, yet outward to Muslims and Jews, believers and non-believers as I have sought to understand the lives and faiths and doubts of others.  Inward to the present moment, yet outward in anticipation of the week we are now beginning.  Inward to the small sufferings I have encountered, yet outward to the resurrection.  

As Christians we have this tendency to be people of the cross and not people of the empty tomb.  Our primary symbol is one of suffering and agony.  We dwell on our sinfulness and our unworthiness. "To thee do we send up our sighs, mourning and weeping in this valley of tears."  Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.  But many times we get stuck there.  Many times, in dwelling on our own sinfulness, we cannot see beyond ourselves and into the suffering of others.  Many times we see this world as a punishment instead of a gift.  Many times we bow our heads in shame instead of gazing into the eyes of the One who loves us and calls us into a relationship and not to cower in fear.

Please do not misunderstand me.  I believe that sin is real.  I know that suffering is real (I watch the news and I have a pulse).  I believe that Jesus' own death was very real.  But Jesus did not die to receive our sympathy.  Jesus did not die to put on a show.  Jesus did not die to somehow be the answer to some sort of convoluted cosmic calculus equation, the x answer of which equals salvation.  Jesus' death is a death that shows us how to live.  If this were not the case, then Lent would end with Good Friday and not on Easter Sunday.  This story is a story of hope, not catastrophe.

But who knows.  My mind and heart may change this week.  If I have learned anything these past five weeks it is that a life of faith is a life of fits and starts, new revelations in unusual places and expectations just aching to be disappointed.  But if I have learned anything else these past five weeks it has also been to rejoice in God's presence now and to hope in the promise of the future.

And so Holy Week begins.  May we all not only journey to the cross and to the grave with Jesus this week, but more importantly, to the light of new life and the unanticipated possibilities of his resurrection.