Palm Sunday

‘But all this has taken place so that the Scriptures of the prophets might be fulfilled’

‘Ond digwyddodd hyn oll fel y cyflawnid yr hyn a ysgrifennodd y proffwydi’’(Mt 26:56)

Today marks the beginning of the holiest week of the Church’s year. It starts with Our Lord’s Triumphal entry into Jerusalem. This was much more than a royal visit. It was the proclamation of the Messiah, and a fulfilment of prophecy. The prophet Zechariah, writing 500 years before Jesus, looks forward to a messianic future:

Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion! Shout aloud, O daughter of Jerusalem! Behold, your king is coming to you; righteous and having salvation is he, humble and mounted on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.’ (Zech 9:9)

Likewise, the prophet Isaiah anticipates the arrival of the Messiah in the following words:

Behold, the Lord has proclaimed to the end of the earth: Say to the daughter of Zion, “Behold, your salvation comes; behold, his reward is with him, and his recompense before him.”’ (Isa 62:11)

Both prophets deliver a message of salvation, with God saving His people. The name ‘Jesus’ means ‘God saves’, and in Him we see salvation incarnate.

In Twelfth-century Jerusalem a procession took place on Palm Sunday  which recreated Jesus’ journey from Bethany to Jerusalem. The city’s famous Golden Gate [Porta Aurea], was only opened on this day of the year. Through this gate, the King, representing Christ, rode in on a donkey, whilst the people waved palm branches and cried “Hosanna to the Son of David”. In our own way, we too are re-creating Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem here today.

The donkey ridden by Jesus reminds us of the humble beast of burden, which carried his Mother Mary to Bethlehem for His birth, and then carried the Holy Family into exile in Egypt. This is an act of humble leadership which fulfils what was foreseen by the prophets. It shows us that Jesus Christ is truly the one who fulfils the hopes of Israel. The Hebrew Scriptures look forward to the deliverance of the Israelites, and this is enacted in front of the eyes of those watching the Carpenter’s son enter the holy City.

Today’s service begins with joy and triumph. However, with the reading of the Passion Gospel, we move to the events of Thursday and Friday of Holy Week. Suddenly, the mood is more mysterious. Our Lord celebrates the Passover with His disciples. This is the celebration of the people of Israel’s journey from slavery in Egypt to freedom in the Promised Land, passing through the Red Sea, and wandering for forty years in the desert. Jesus also blesses bread and wine and says, ‘This is My Body’ and ‘This is My Blood’, something which the Church continues to celebrate every day in the Eucharist. 

After spending time in prayer with His disciples, Our Lord is arrested. He is charged with blasphemy, and brought for trial before the Roman Governor, Pontius Pilate. A few days earlier Jesus was hailed as the Messiah, the Saviour of the people, and now all the crowd can do is shout ‘Let him be crucified!’. A joyous public have turned into a baying mob. Popular opinion can be very fickle. What is striking is that Christ remains silent:

‘But when he was accused by the chief priests and elders, he gave no answer. Then Pilate said to him, “Do you not hear how many things they testify against you?” But he gave him no answer, not even to a single charge, so that the governor was greatly amazed.’ (Mt 27:12-14)

Here Jesus is fulfilling the prophecy of Isaiah, regarding the Suffering Servant, where he declares:

‘He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth; like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so he opened not his mouth.’ (Isaiah 53:7)

Our Lord’s silence speaks powerfully to the injustice of the situation. Pilate wants to release Jesus but is afraid that a riot might break out, so washes his hands of the situation, thereby condemning an innocent man. The Roman governor takes the easy way out, bowing to popular pressure. At a human level this is understandable, if rather weak. In contrast, Christ stands in silence, a model of humility and strength, submitting to death for love of us, and all humanity.

Humility is not a popular virtue these days, The world around us would have us be the exact opposite: full of ourselves, with a high opinion of our abilities. Ours is a society which is more and more characterised by the sin of selfishness. The individual is all that matters: me and what I want, is all that counts. At the root of all this is pride, thinking that we are more important than we are, making ourselves the focal point. In contrast, as Christians we need to put God at the centre of things, and learn to be thankful. To quote from Fulton Sheen:

Gratitude is characteristic only of the humble. The egotistic are so impressed by their own importance that they take everything given them as if it were their due. They have no room in their hearts for recollection of the undeserved favours they have received. [On Being Human, 1982: 325]

As people of faith, we need to adopt the mind of Christ. That means embracing a way of thinking that is devoted to love and the service of God. Christ doesn’t just do what He wants to. Instead everything that He says and that He does is in service to the will of God the Father. Jesus prays in the Garden of Gethsemane for the strength to do God’s will. He demonstrates humility and obedience in action: embracing the most degrading death possible, for love of us. Thus, we should love Jesus. We should worship Him, because He is God, and He loves us. The Saviour of the World scorns majesty. Instead, He embraces shame and sin, total utter humiliation, to save us. Jesus does this to heal the wounds of disobedience and division, so that we might have life with Him for ever. This is why Jesus is willing to take on our human frailty and to redeem us through His suffering. Through His vulnerability, He shows the World that God’s ways are different from ours. His is the example we are called to follow — the way of suffering love and humility.

And so, my brothers and sisters in Christ, today, and in the coming week, we see what God’s Love and Glory are really like. It is not what people expect. This is power shown in humility, strength in weakness. As we continue our Lenten journey in the triumph of this day, and look towards the Holy and Life-giving Cross and beyond to the new life of Easter, let us trust in the Lord. Let us be like Him, so that He may transform our hearts, our minds, and our lives, allowing us to experience life in all its fullness. Through God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit, Duw Dad, Duw Y Mab, a Duw yr Ysbryd Glân. To whom be ascribed all glory, dominion, and power, now and forever. Amen.

Trinity XI: Come to the Banquet

Organising seating plans for a banquet is not something most of us have a great deal of experience doing. Most of our dining nowadays is not that formal. The closest we might come is organising the seating at a Wedding Breakfast. So it is difficult for us to understand quite how important seating arrangements at dinner were in the Ancient World. Where you sat mattered. Where you were seated was signified by your rank in society, with the most important placed next to the host. This morning’s Gospel begins with Jesus having been invited to a Friday night dinner, the most important meal in the Jewish week, by a senior Pharisee. Luke’s comment is instructive:

‘ac yr oeddent hwy â’u llygaid arno’

‘they were watching him closely’ (Lk 14:1)

Jesus is on display. He is being studied by all those present at the dinner — presumably other leading Pharisees. They want to see if Our Lord will do, or say, something that they can find fault with. They are keen to catch Him out, in order to criticise Him. Jesus uses this experience as a teaching opportunity:

‘Yna adroddodd ddameg wrth y gwesteion, wrth iddo sylwi sut yr oeddent yn dewis y seddau anrhydedd’

‘Now he told a parable to those who were invited, when he noticed how they chose the places of honour’ (Lk 14:7)

The self-important dinner guests are all trying to get as close to the host as possible. They want the best places, the best food, and to be seen as being superior. So Jesus tells the following parable:

“Pan wahoddir di gan rywun i wledd briodas, paid â chymryd y lle anrhydedd, rhag ofn ei fod wedi gwahodd rhywun amlycach na thi; oherwydd os felly, daw’r sawl a’ch gwahoddodd chwi’ch dau a dweud wrthyt, ‘Rho dy le i hwn’, ac yna byddi dithau mewn cywilydd yn cymryd y lle isaf. Yn hytrach, pan wahoddir di, dos a chymer y lle isaf, fel pan ddaw’r gwahoddwr y dywed wrthyt, ‘Gyfaill, tyrd yn uwch’; yna dangosir parch iti yng ngŵydd dy holl gyd-westeion.

“When you are invited by someone to a wedding feast, do not sit down in a place of honour, lest someone more distinguished than you be invited by him, and he who invited you both will come and say to you, ‘Give your place to this person’, and then you will begin with shame to take the lowest place. But when you are invited, go and sit in the lowest place, so that when your host comes he may say to you, ‘Friend, move up higher.’ Then you will be honoured in the presence of all who sit at table with you.” (Lk 14:8-1o)

In practical terms, what Jesus is advising is sensible, and wise, because it removes the possibility of losing face. To this day in the Middle East, and elsewhere, the situation envisaged in the parable would be seen as a source of shame, or honour, depending on whether you were promoted to a place near the host, or demoted to a more distant seat. We tend not to be so aware of such considerations, and many people instinctively gravitate towards the back. Christ’s parable makes the point that humility is better than pride: 

“Oherwydd darostyngir pob un sy’n ei ddyrchafu ei hun, a dyrchefir pob un sy’n ei ddarostwng ei hun.”

“For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted.” (Lk 14:11)

To have an attitude which does not seek out the place of honour contrasts strongly with the guests who have done exactly that. Our Lord is pointing out that humility is the better way.

Christianity is a religion of humility. It starts from the premise that we have to rely upon God’s grace to save us, through faith. God takes the initiative, and we respond. We do not save ourselves. The point of salvation is that God is the host who says: ‘Friend come up higher’. We do not deserve a seat of honour, nor have we thought ourselves worthy of it. Yet a loving and generous God says to all who turn to Him: ‘Friend come up higher’. This is the Good News of the Kingdom, and it turns our human expectations on their head. Jesus then develops His teaching: 

Meddai hefyd wrth ei wahoddwr, “Pan fyddi’n trefnu cinio neu swper, paid â gwahodd dy gyfeillion na’th frodyr na’th berthnasau na’th gymdogion cyfoethog, rhag ofn iddynt hwythau yn eu tro dy wahodd di, ac iti gael dy ad-dalu. Pan fyddi’n trefnu gwledd, gwahodd yn hytrach y tlodion, yr anafusion, y cloffion, a’r deillion; a gwyn fydd dy fyd, am nad oes ganddynt fodd i dalu’n ôl iti; cei dy dalu’n ôl yn atgyfodiad y cyfiawn.”

He said also to the man who had invited him, “When you give a dinner or a banquet, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or rich neighbours, lest they also invite you in return and you be repaid. But when you give a feast, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you. For you will be repaid at the resurrection of the just.” (Lk 14: 12-14)

People were having parties to display their wealth, social status, and connections. This still happens today. But God has a different understanding of hospitality. In His vision it is not about what you get, but what you can give to others. Generosity is what really matters. By inviting those who cannot invite you back in return, you are being generous to those who are in no position to repay you. Jesus’ teaching here is also about the banquet of the Kingdom of God, the Eucharist. Jesus, as God, invites the poor, those in need of healing — in other words all of humanity, you and me — to the feast of the Kingdom. The purpose of the Eucharist is so that God can feed us, with His Body and Blood, to heal us. In this divine banquet God does for us what we cannot do for ourselves, and gives us a foretaste of Heaven. We cannot repay God, but we can be thankful, and accept what is offered, allowing it to transform us. 

Christ has an important and strong message for His host and his fellow diners. We see Our Lord advising them to be generous and not to seek any reward. Human Society is complex. The giving and receiving of gifts has always been a crucial part of how society works. It creates networks of obligation: if you give someone something, they may feel obliged to return the favour. That is fine in human terms, but when we transfer it to the divine realm we are faced with a problem. What can we give God? Does Our Heavenly Father need or want anything? No! Because God is by nature, perfect, complete, and self-sufficient. Almighty God cannot want or need anything. As a result of this God is able to give the purest form of gift, which does not require anything in return. There can be no obligation, because humanity cannot give Our Creator anything. God is able give without expecting anything in return. This is what happens in the Incarnation when Our Lord is given to and for us. Throughout His life and ministry, to His Passion, Death, and Resurrection all He is and does is for our benefit. God is generous to us, not so that we can be generous in return, but simply for our own good. Likewise our sacrifice of praise is not for God’s benefit, but ours, demonstrating that we are living the way we should: flourishing by being loving, generous, and thankful. 

Instead of the norms of human interaction and obligation, Christ presents us with a completely different paradigm. The dinner invitations in the Kingdom are for the ‘poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind’ (Lk 14:13). That means us! God longs to lavish His riches upon us; to heal our wounds, and to restore our sight. In turn, by our care for those who are weak, outcast, or deemed socially undesirable, we proclaim the Kingdom of God in our actions. Each one of us is called to the banquet here and now, in order that our souls may be nourished with Word and Sacrament. The Eucharist is the banquet of the Kingdom, which heals us, and transforms us more and more into God’s likeness.

God gives Himself, so the we might live in Him. This is true generosity — a generosity which expects nothing in return. Christ is the model of humility and loving service that we should imitate. Jesus takes the lowest place, bearing the weight of our sin, on the Cross. There He dies that we might live. There He dies to make us free.

Therefore, may we, in humility, recognise our need of God, and respond to His invitation to the Divine banquet. We pray that God will heal us, restore us and strengthen us to live lives of humility and love. In response we give thanks and sing the praises of God, Duw Dad, Duw y Mab, a Duw yr Ysbryd Glân. God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit. I’r hwn y priodoler pob gogoniant, arglwyddiaeth, a gallu, yn awr, ac yn oes oesoedd. To whom be ascribed all glory, dominion and power, now and forever. Amen

Maundy Thursday 2024

To those of us living in cold northern climes, the idea of foot-washing is strange. However, if we lived in the Middle East it would not be. In hot and dusty parts of the world, if you wear sandals, your feet will get hot, tired, and dirty. In the time of Jesus, to wash a visitor’s feet was a sign of hospitality, and was usually something done by a servant. For a host or householder to do the foot-washing themselves was a sign both of humility and the importance of those being welcomed. Tonight Christ washes our feet. We are all guests at the Lord’s Supper, where Jesus institutes the Eucharist on the night before He suffers and dies.

St Paul’s First Letter to the Corinthians (our Second Reading tonight) was written about twenty years after Christ’s Death and Resurrection. This is the earliest account we possess of what happened on this night. Paul describes how Our Lord blesses bread and wine and feeds his followers. Jesus also explains what He is doing, saying, ‘This is my Body … This is my Blood’ ‘hwn yw fy nghorff … hwn yw fy ngwaed’. These words are repeated whenever the Eucharist is celebrated because Our Lord told us to ‘Do this’ ‘gwnewch hyn’, and so we do. We are fed by Christ, fed with Christ, both to proclaim His Death, but also to share His New Life. This is no ordinary meal, but rather a proclamation of God’s saving work.

At the Last Supper Jesus takes on the role of a servant, the Teacher washes His disciples’ feet, and feeds them with Himself. These acts of humility and generosity, help to bring the Christian Church into being. It starts here, tonight. This is why the Church commemorates it every year, both to remind us where we have come from, and where we are going. This is the Wedding Banquet of the Lamb, the Heavenly Feast of the Kingdom to which all people are invited. 

God (through me) washes our feet, kneeling on the floor, and wipes them with a towel. This is something that is both humble and utterly wonderful. Jesus gives us an example of loving service: this is what the Church is supposed to be. Those in positions of Christian leadership are called to be shepherds in the service of God’s people. Likewise, as Christ’s followers, we are all called to serve each other. As Jesus said:

‘If I then, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have given you an example, that you also should do just as I have done to you.’

‘Os wyf fi, felly, a minnau’n Arglwydd ac yn Athro, wedi golchi eich traed chwi, fe ddylech chwithau hefyd olchi traed eich gilydd. Yr wyf wedi rhoi esiampl i chwi; yr ydych chwithau i wneud fel yr wyf fi wedi ei wneud i chwi. ’ (Jn 13:14-15)

We follow Christ’s example. In the same way we celebrate the Eucharist because Christ told us to ‘do this’ ‘gwnewch hyn’ and so Christians have for nearly two thousand years, and we will continue to do so until Our Lord comes again. This is more than sacred drama. We are not simply spectators watching a reenactment, we are active participants in the mysteries themselves! The Eucharist, which Jesus instituted this evening, means a number of things. Firstly, the Eucharist is our thanksgiving to God for who Christ is, and what He does. Secondly, the Eucharist is an act of obedience: Our Lord told His disciples to ‘do this’, and so, for two thousand years the Church has obeyed His command. Thirdly, the Eucharist is a mystery that makes present the Body and Blood of Christ, which suffered and died for us on Calvary. As Christ fed His disciples, so He feeds us too. Tonight’s Eucharist is just as real as the first one, in the Upper Room, and each and every one ever since. That is why Christians celebrate this evening. On the night before He suffered and died for us, Jesus took bread and wine, gave thanks to God, and gave them to His disciples, telling them to do this in remembrance of Him.

God gives Himself to us as nourishment. God gives Himself to us, so that we might have life in Him. The role of the Church is to carry on the offering of the Son to the Father, to make it present across space and time. That is why we are here, tonight, gathered as disciples of Our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. As Christians we are to be people of love. It is love that makes us Christians. God’s love for us: a love which sees Our Lord offer Himself, to take away our sins, to heal our wounds, and restore us to God’s loving embrace. 

So my brothers and sisters in Christ, let us come to the Lord, and be washed. Let us feed on the heavenly banquet, which strengthens us. And let us to sing the praises of God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit. To whom be ascribed, all majesty, glory, dominion, and power, now and forever. Amen.