Palm Sunday (A)
On this day, we read two Gospel passages. At the start of the Mass, we read the account of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem – the original Palm Sunday. Then, in the Liturgy of the Word, the Gospel reading is the story of the last 24 hours or so before Jesus’ death, beginning with the Last Supper. This Gospel reading is longer, and as such it presents to us a wealth of material for our prayer and reflection. What I will do here is offer a few thoughts on some of the people who appear in the Passion narrative, in the hope that it will help us place ourselves in the story and therefore be more open to whatever word the Lord wants us to hear in it today.
Judas: Why?
All four Gospels name Judas as the disciple who betrays Jesus. However, Judas’ motivation for doing so is not that clear. Money is involved in the Gospel stories. In Matthew’s account, Judas is offered thirty pieces of silver by the Jerusalem authorities. The Gospel of John tells us that Judas was a thief, and that he helped himself to what was in the common purse.
Even so, this doesn’t tell us why Judas went to the authorities in the first place, or why he became a disciple of Jesus. Jesus never promised his followers material wealth. Why did Judas follow Jesus at first, and why did he then choose to betray him? Many have offered possible answers to this question. We will never know for certain. The motivation of Judas remains a mystery.
How about us? What motivates us to do something that we know is sinful? At times, if we are honest with ourselves before God, we can point to choices we have made, thoughts that we have welcomed and built upon, that started us down the road to sin before we ever did whatever it was that we did. Yet, there are other times that we must say with St. Paul: “I do not do the good that I will to do, but I do the evil that I do not want to do”. Our motivations for sin sometimes remain a mystery, even to ourselves. Yet we know that God sees through our masks, understands our motivations, and comes to us with the offer of forgiveness, healing and freedom from these sins. Judas seems to have despaired of that mercy. We need not. It is offered to us, in all our failures and inadequacies.
Peter: From Boastfulness to Brokenness
In the Gospel accounts, Peter often comes across as quite sure of himself and his perception of reality. In Matthew’s Gospel, it is Peter who replies to Jesus’ question “Who do you say that I am?” by the profession of faith: “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God!” To Peter, Jesus gives the keys of the kingdom of heaven. But, when Jesus then speaks of his own suffering and death which must happen, Peter upbraids Jesus and corrects Him! That’s how sure Peter is of himself and his understanding of things.
In the Passion narrative, Peter starts off on the same page. At the Last Supper, when Jesus tells his disciples that their faith in him will be shaken, Peter declares, “Though all may have their faith in you shaken, mine will never be!” He did not know how soon he would rue those words. Later that very night, after Jesus’ arrest, Peter follows Jesus (to his credit, he hasn’t run away yet) and ends up in the courtyard of the high priest – a place where he finds himself in the “wrong crowd”. No disciples of Jesus here! Peter is challenged. Though he is not threatened directly, Peter immediately caves in, denying Jesus three times. He then hears the cock crow, remembers Jesus’ words (and his own brash ones), and begins to weep bitterly.
Though Peter is not physically present at the Crucifixion, yet he is present spiritually in his weeping. His weakness, his failure, has been revealed to him in an inescapable, undeniable way. All he can do now is weep bitterly and yet retain some hope that mercy might at last be given him. It is not for nothing that the Gospels tell us that the first apostle to see the risen Lord is Peter.
We are aware – in our minds, at least – of our weaknesses and tendency to sin. However, we often act before others (and even ourselves) as though we had it all together. We don’t want others – or even ourselves – to see our inadequacies. We deny them, we boast, we do other things to distract ourselves and others from them. But the Lord will, sooner or later, lead us to a place where we will fail, and fail in a way that not even we can hide it any longer from ourselves, let alone from others. We will be led to a cross. Then we will discover – or rediscover – our true weakness and inability to be faithful, and discover – or rediscover – our utter need for the grace of God. Like Peter, we weep for our sins and throw ourselves totally on God’s mercy. Then, having been lifted up by the Lord, we then can meet one another in our weakness and offer compassion and encouragement.
Pilate’s Wife: The Power of Dreams
Matthew includes a brief detail in his account that is not in the other Gospels: “While (Pilate) was still seated on the bench, his wife sent him a message, ‘Have nothing to do with that righteous man. I suffered much in a dream today because of him.’” Other sources give us her name – Claudia Procula – and tell us that she was a relative of Tiberius Caesar. But Matthew is not interested in these details. He includes the line, it seems, because of her dream – more precisely, because it was a dream. This dream is meant to remind us of other dreams.
Dreams point back to the first chapters of Matthew’s Gospel. After a dream reveals to him God’s part in these events, Joseph obeys, takes Mary to be his wife, and names the child Jesus. After the Magi visit and worship the child Jesus, they are warned in a dream not to return to Herod, and then they go home by another way. Dreams warn Joseph to flee to Egypt, and then encourage him to return to Galilee after the death of Herod.
The fact that Pilate’s wife is troubled by her dream reminds us of a dream that troubled King Nebuchadnezzar – a dream that only Daniel could interpret. The dream was a revelation of the ultimate coming of the kingdom of God, a kingdom which would overcome all earthly kingdoms and never pass away. In bringing in the dream of Pilate’s wife, Matthew reminds us that all is going according to the purpose of God, even though it may seem otherwise.
But we can say more. What dreams have we received from God? What is our deepest desire? What has God promised us? What calling has God given to us? Did God’s call seem more certain a long time ago? Does it feel more distant now? Are we tempted to think we were mistaken, or perhaps took it too seriously? When our dreams disturb us, or seem somehow distant, no longer real, then we need to go back to them. We need to return to the beginning of our own relationship with God and see once again how God loved us, chose us, and walks with us on our way. The dreams that God gives us will endure. They will not be in vain, but will produce the fruit that God intends for them. Let us trust them – and God.
We can do something similar with anyone who appears in the Passion narrative. Find someone whose story speaks to you in some way: one of the three I mentioned, or someone else. Allow the Lord to speak to you through that person. This is a means by which the Lord can draw us ever closer to him and to the meaning of the Cross in our own lives.