Today is the Sunday before Easter. Palm Sunday, or Pom Pom Sunday as some in our church call it, is the beginning of Easter Week.
If Easter Week were a psych patient, s/he would be a rapid cycler. Palm Sunday: yay he king is coming! Maundy Thursday: A big dinner and an arrest. Good Friday: tears and despair and earthquakes. Sunday: yay Jesus is risen! There is a lot of emotion and drama in this brief week.
I really enjoyed our service this morning, even though the music pastor had travel difficulties and was unable to make it to a Sunday with a great deal of music. Everyone rose to the occasion – the guest organist, the assistant director, the choir member who had played the piano part once before but did great. We in the bell choir processed in, ringing our bells, and everyone else did a parade with the palm branches.
I enjoyed the interruption in the routine – memorizing our music! Processing through the aisles! Waving palm branches! Palm Sunday is a rebellious holiday.
It was rebellious then, too. A king who is actually a carpenter, riding on an unbroken donkey rather than a white horse. A shepherd king leading his people with a staff, not a sword.
Riding in like a conqueror when he was actually intending to submit, to die for his people.
And the people celebrating him weren’t officials or soldiers or music directors. No one was throwing confetti. No. Instead, common people were laying their coats in the streets. They were celebrating their king.
Their king and ours.