Palm Sunday

“Almighty and everlasting God, who, of thy tender love towards mankind, has sent thy Son, our Savior Jesus Christ, to take upon him our flesh and to suffer death upon the cross, that all mankind should follow the example of his great humility: Mercifully grant that we may both follow the example of his patience, and also be made partakers of his resurrection, through the same Jesus Christ, our Lord. Amen” (from the 1662 Book of Common Prayer).

Today is Palm Sunday, a week out from Easter Sunday. This is traditionally the day that Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a donkey to shouts of “Hosanna!” and “Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord.”

The crowd was cheering and laying down palm branches before His path. Apparently, in that day palm trees symbolized victory and triumph. Maybe the crowd was anticipating an imminent overthrow of Roman rule. Maybe they were expecting Jesus to start acting the part of an earthly king.

Were those people the same ones who later shouted for Barrabus to be released and for this Jesus to be crucified? I’ve heard a lot of sermons that hinged on the same people at one moment praising Jesus and at the next condemning Him. But I’ve also heard that it wasn’t necessarily the same people.

Regardless, Jesus looked beyond the praise to the pain. He focused beyond the crowds on the cross and all the torture He would shortly endure. His mission wasn’t to get the approval of the crowds in that moment but to set His face toward Jerusalem and Golgotha. His purpose was to lay down His life for the flock.

I heard in a sermon today that to appreciate the joy of Easter Sunday, you need to walk through Maundy Thursday and Good Friday. Take in all the mocking. Being abandoned by His disciples. The beatings. The whip that tore strips of flesh of His back. The carrying of the cross up the hill to Golgatha. All those hours in agony up on that cross. Giving up His spirit and dying.

It’s important to remember that sin isn’t something that God ever takes lightly or brushes off. The Father doesn’t wink at our transgressions and ignore all the wrong we’ve done. Sin always has a cost, and that cost is always death. In the Old Testament, the price was the sacrifice of an animal that pointed forward to the ultimate sacrifice to come. In the New Testament, that ultimate sacrifice is Jesus willingly laying down His life for us.

Take time in the next week to reflect on the fact that Jesus bore the whip and the nails for you and me. He chose the wounds and scars that we might be healed. He died that we might live. And then you can celebrate Easter Sunday a week from today with joy.

Whiter Than Snow

We finally got our Snowpocalypse, or if you prefer, Snowmageddon. All that means is that it actually snowed here in the Nashville, Tennessee area. 6 inches, in fact. I actually got a snow day.

I know those of you up north are reading this and groaning. Six inches of snow is to you what a light dusting of it is to us. Nothing. Well, even with that light dusting, people still panic and buy up all the bread and milk. The South is weird about snow.

Still, it’s been lovely to look at. I love how it covers over everything like a white blanket over a hibernating earth.

It made me think of that verse in the Psalms (or maybe in Isaiah) which goes something like this: though our sins are as scarlet, they shall be whiter than snow. At that point, the writer could think of nothing purer than freshly-fallen snow. I can’t either.

Grace is more than forgiveness for those past transgressions. It’s a covering up of them as if they had never been. It’s a clean slate and a new start. It’s a do-over that can take place at any point in your life, no matter where you’ve been or what you’ve done.

This may be a repeat, but it’s worth repeating. The beautiful part of the gospel is that it reminds us that we don’t have to be trapped by futility and chained to past failures. Though Jesus, anyone can start over. It is indeed never too late to be what you might have always been and always dreamed you could be.

Probably sooner than later, the sun will come out and all that beautiful snow will evaporate and exist only in memory and all those photos I took with my iPhone.

Grace, however, is forever.

I really love that part.