Celebration...

Celebration is a big part of our communal experience.  The joy we feel as we gather to honor someone special to us radiates through the group, bonds us together, pulls us all in the same direction.  Humans like a party, and weddings and new babies are the best reasons to have one.  But most of us enjoy any reason to get together and celebrate.  It draws us in, and makes us want to join the fun.

Jesus participated in many celebrations during his life and ministry.  He enjoyed family parties, attended weddings, loved children and welcomed them warmly, and was a part of the community events while he grew up.  I imagine him celebrating special occasions, just as we do, and with the same joy and passion for his loved ones that we feel.  He was human, and his message was one of love.  I believe he loved his own family as much as anyone, and no doubt enjoyed being a part of the fuss.

But his life changed as his ministry began in earnest, and I imagine that changed the nature of his celebrations.  From his earliest days, he was amazing the religious teachers with his knowledge and understanding, and it is easy to imagine their growing concern as his message cast increasingly further from the Mosaic traditions to which they clung.

Most alarming to them, I am sure, was that Jesus spoke out against the authorities who were solidly in control of every aspect of their lives.  I wonder if his siblings grew disgusted, drew away from him, worried about their own safety and position in the community, as their brother continued to flout traditional theology and allowed those around him to call him Rabbi.  He was not a teacher, at least in the tradition they were used to.  He associated with people of questionable character, he embraced the untouchables of their society, he accepted Gentiles as his equal, and his message was off track from everything that was familiar.  He sought out those whom society cast aside as unworthy.  It had to be unsettling, at the very least, to be associated with him.

On Palm Sunday, Jesus came to Jerusalem to celebrate the upcoming Passover with those closest of friends, his disciples.  His ministry infuriated the religious elite, and his arrival in Jerusalem, the holiest of cities, for this most solemn of religious holidays, was certainly an audacious act of confrontation.  People were gathering from all over, and his name was undoubtedly passed from one person to the next, all wondering whether he would come, and what would happen if he did.  Imagine the anticipation when word was received that he was on his way.  The atmosphere must have been electric, with shock waves traveling through the crowds who were waiting for the festivities to begin.

Church tradition dictates that Jesus rode into the city in triumph.  We mark the day as a happy time of celebration, waving palms and singing Hosanna.  But I wonder if that is really the right attitude for this moment?  I think we may be a little premature in throwing the party so soon.  Because Jesus did not enter as a King, with all the pomp and ceremony we normally associate with royalty.  He rode into the city on a lowly donkey, an inglorious animal used for trade.  I think, once again, Jesus has done the unexpected.  The people were looking for an all powerful Master.  He came as a humble servant.

The celebration was real, but not as they understood it.  Jesus knew, even as the people cheered to see him, what was waiting for him at the end of this journey.  While they were looking for a palace, he was seeing a cross.  What an incredible mixture of confusing emotions there must have been, as word spread down the road that he was coming.

Excitement, interest, fear, anticipation - I think the people must have felt all of those as they waited.  And then, to actually see him, riding on a lowly donkey in his shabby clothing with only a few scraggly disciples to hold back the crowds so he could pass; well, I think it must have left them feeling let down, confused, bewildered by the events as they unfolded.  They did not understand his purpose, they did not comprehend the real meaning of his life and the death that was now so near at hand.  They were mired in the present, while Jesus already had his eyes fixed on eternity.

It is easy for us, in hindsight, to start the celebration at the beginning.  We know the outcome, we are assured of his resurrection and our salvation.  But the people on the ground, the people who were there, must have been confused and afraid.  This man, who was being labeled their king, was a simple teacher instead of larger than life.  Just being associated with him was dangerous, and I imagine the fear of being caught watching his entry into Jerusalem was real.  No one wanted to suffer the consequences of worshiping the wrong person at a time when that sort of sedition resulted in death on a cross.

As we approach the week of the Holy Passion, I am mindful of the real celebration this week.  Jesus came to redeem us.  He purchased our salvation through his death and resurrection.  God sent his son, our brother, as a sacrifice for us.  His triumph over Satan is the celebration we live each day.

Today I am grateful for celebrations of all kinds.  It is fun to get together with those we care about and experience the joy and happiness of special times.  But I am even more grateful to be able to celebrate the week of the Passion, a week which changed the course of my eternity.