The Palm Man
March 20, 2005 (The Sunday of the Passion: Palm Sunday)
By
The Very Rev. Terry White,
Dean
The Liturgy of the Palms
- Matthew 21:1-11
- Psalm 118:19-29
The Liturgy of the Word
(From The Lectionary Page)
It was rainy, blustery early April evening in Chicago. A friend and I, both second-year seminarians, had just attended Solemn Evensong at a city parish on Palm Sunday, and now were heading for a Rush Street diner to grab some supper before heading back to Evanston. The wind was strong off of Lake Michigan, and our route required us to walk straight into it.
As we trudged through the driving rain, a figure approached us. As the wind and rain let up for a moment, I could a man approaching us, his long, scraggly hair was soaked from the rain. He wore an Army surplus coat that was missing all of its buttons. Beneath his coat he wore man layers of dirty, torn shirts. He was what we so easily call a streetperson.
As my friend and I attended Sunday Evensong a couple of times a month, we traveled this route often, encountering many street people asking for money. Seminarians rarely have extra change, and besides, it was likely that any handout would go towards a cheap bottle of booze. So, as the man neared us, I instinctively dug my hands deeper into my pockets.
Within a few moments we were face to face, and sure enough, he stretched out a hand towards me. I was ready to say, "Nothing tonight." But he didn’t ask for anything and his hand was not cupped, silently asking for money. Rather, his hand was not empty; this man was handing me something. I squinted through the rain, and saw that he was offering me a palm branch. He handed one to me and to my friend, and then, without a word, turned away from us and toward some other people hurrying by.
My friend and I walked across the street to our diner and took a booth near a window, and we watched the Palm Man. He offered branches to everyone who passed by. A few refused, but most took a palm. But after a few steps, the branch was thrown to the ground. Each time, the man hurried to pick up the discarded palm. He would wipe off the mud on his rain-soaked coat, and lovingly add it to the bunch of fronds inside his coat, which he was protecting from the rain. Eventually, the man moved on.
When I preach on this day I often use this story and I make no apologies for repeating it often, for each time I tell it, something different confronts me. For me this is a parable, nearly as sacred as Holy Scripture.
From the moment I first saw the Palm Man, I had made up my mind to avoid him, and the easiest way to do that was to ignore that he existed. I pretended he simply wasn't there.
• I averted my eyes and dug my hands deeper into my
pockets.
• My defenses were sharp.
• I was prepared not to respond, and I was comfortable in not
responding.
• It was safe, and would be over in a moment.
• I could pass by unaffected and unscathed.
Holy Week can cause us to react the same way, especially when we are confronted by the Passion. From a safe distance we see it coming, and we avert our eyes, or dig our hands into our pockets, or pretend that this year we can grasp the Resurrection without needing to stand at the foot of the Cross.
And so we fail to ask and answer all those questions about the Passion which begin: "Why…?" And our defenses shield and prevent any response, or worse, any change the crucifixion of Jesus would create in us.
On that night now 20-plus years ago, when my friend and I encountered the Palm Man, we had just left a parish church that displays a large outdoor crucifix facing North LaSalle Street. Beneath the cross is a question from Lamentations: "Is it nothing to you who pass by?"
The same question is asked of the whole Church: Is it nothing to you who pass by? As strife escalates, as pettiness saps our resources, as injustice is challenged not often enough, and as voices proclaim that God loves some people more than others – is it nothing to us that the Son of God has loved us so much that he willingly endured betrayal, abandonment, and the Cross?
In this Great Week, may we hold fast to a central mystery of our faith: the authority of Pilate, the sin of hate, the strength of the nails, the cleverness of the conspiracy - these did not keep Jesus on the Cross. It was Love that held him there. His redeeming, sacrificial, unconditional love for all.
My sisters and brothers, I invite us all to enter deeply into the glory of this Week, glory the likes of which is found nowhere else. And may we seriously contemplate the mighty acts of God which have truly given us life and immortality. Conversion and redemption await all who, for whatever reason, choose to wade into the Passion and not avert their eyes, nor dig their hands into their pockets, and instead, accept what is offered, be it a palm from a street person, or cleansing blood from the hand and heart of the Crucified.
I wish each of you, and our parish community, a blessed and life-changing Holy Week.
And, please, leave no palm branch or cross behind in your pew or on the floor, and learn from the Palm Man.