Dear friends, what we just read is a narrative account of a substantiated event in human history. The Passion of our Lord Jesus Christ according to Matthew is not a fable. It is not a metaphor or a parable. What the author reports is not an analogy, some small story to illustrate larger truths. The words we read are not a cautionary tale or a morality play. This is history. Because the incident was a side note to those in power, care was not taken in getting precise details recorded, but in the spring of year 30, 31, 32 or 33, a man named Jesus from the region of Galilee was executed in Jerusalem. He was accosted by a hostile crowd and taken to the Sanhedrin, the Jewish Supreme Court that handled internal affairs. Caiaphas, the chief priest and justice of record, heard the charges, made a ruling and sent the man to the appointed governor of the land. Roman documents corroborate that Pontius Pilate was their man in Jerusalem. Jesus, Judas, Peter, Caiaphas, and Pilate were actual, literal flesh and blood men brought together in real time. Their lives touched and their fates became absolutely and inextricably linked forever.

What we just read is fact. It is history. It is not myth. It happened. There were witnesses. There were reports and testimony. Jesus walked on this earth. He had friends. He had a disappointed friend who betrayed him. He had enemies. His enemies took his life. He died. He was laid to rest in a sealed, guarded tomb.

Every year, every year on the Sunday of the Passion we read an account of the last hours of Jesus of Nazareth, the sweet, eldest son of Mary and Joseph. We hear the words of the narrator and the disciples, of Judas and Jesus, Peter and priests, Pilate and Caiaphas. We say the violent, angry, haunting words of the crowd, “Let him be crucified! His blood be on us and our children! Save yourself, if you are the Son of God!” 

Every year, we participate in this historic retelling and every year the same question lies big, exposed and embarrassingly before us. “So what?” “Who cares?” “This is really old news.” “It’s a tragic, cruel account for sure, but there are sad, mean injustices in the world everyday.” “This happened two millennia ago in a tiny land a long way away. What is its consequence to me and mine today?”

These are the questions. This is the reason and the charge of the season. What does the execution of a Palestinian Jew 1,975 years ago mean to me?

There is an exercise practiced through the ages by people yearning to deepen their faith and grow their spirituality that may help us answer this central question. The art or skill of theological reflection invites a person to take a passage of scripture and read it carefully, paying attention to both their cognitive and emotional response to the event described. 

They consider the action, the scene, the characters, the outcome, all aspects of the lesson. Then they ask the question, “Who am I in this passage?” “In my life right now, who do I most resemble? This is a pointed question-courage, honesty, sincerity, faith is required to look deep into God’s revelation in Holy Scripture and deep into oneself and find the true common ground. 

Once those connections are made in our minds, the theological reflection asks, if that’s who you are in this passage, then who is God calling you to become? What does God want you to do next?

The Passion of our Lord Jesus Christ read aloud every Palm Sunday is the most poignant and most convicting theological reflection of the Christian faith. Who are we in this event? Right now, today, in our lives in March 2008, are we the disciples who fell asleep in the garden? Are we the friends who ran away? Are we the friend who got angry with the way the plan was taking shape? Like Judas, are we holding on to a private, contrary agenda? Are we witnesses to our faith – taking in the actions of others, but not committing ourselves to the mission of Christ? Are we bystanders or soldiers? Are we Peter who loves, loves the Lord until being his follower gets uncomfortable and scary? Do we let our fear or desire for the easy way rule our hearts only to feel dejected by our puny resolve later? Are we like Caiaphas, secure in our identity and our faith but disinclined to examine our motives or our weaknesses, the possibility and precise location of our waywardness? Are we like Pilate? In our personal devotion and in our communal faith life, do we wash our hands of the prayer and the work? Do we say, let other people take care of what needs doing, they’re better suited, they’re more invested. Let them serve the community and do the outreach projects. Let them teach the Sunday school classes.   Let them put out the cups for coffee hour. Let them count the offering. Others can carry the cross-because I have other important priorities and pulls on my time.

Jesus was a real, factual, human being who was known by thousands and loved by many. He walked across sand and rock, in countryside and cities. He spoke of love and mercy and justice. He turned hearts and opened minds.   He brought new hope to those outside the circle of plenty. He scared the world order and he paid for his message. 

Holy Week begins…If we can get honest and clear about the identity and mission God envisions for us, about the identity and mission Jesus died to raise up for us - then, my friends, Easter will dawn gloriously indeed.