Palm Sunday in Social Distance

It’s been a while since I’ve written about Christianity stuff. Honestly, I still struggle.

Tomorrow is Palm Sunday.

For the past few years, I have avoided the falderal. Mainly because I think our American Christianity misses the point.

We are celebrating in the same way the Jews did in Jesus’ day.

Palm leaves and singing.

Children dancing in the aisles.

Choirs singing Hosanna.

We walk out of the service excited about the week to come. It’s a holiday week. Kids home from school, vacation. Time off from work. A Big Easter dinner and egg hunt. Family Gathering. All the trappings and glitter.

Keep in mind, I’m not saying these things are bad. I think they are wonderful.

Just…

Every year, as I listen to sermons about Jesus riding on the donkey colt in the Triumphal entry through the Eastern Gate of Jerusalem. I just never see what everyone else does.

I don’t see we Christians knowing everything now That Jesus WAS entering Jerusalem as a Triumphant King, of an Eternal Heavenly Kingdom. Jesus was Our Christian King. Those poor, simple Jews were blind, looking only for an Earthly king. 

I see something different. To me, Jesus was following protocol.

Go to the East side of Jerusalem.- Check

Get this donkey- “Hey you two Disciples, go to that village up there. Find a donkey with a colt next to her at this house. Untie them and bring them here to us. If anyone says anything, just say… ‘The Lord needs them and whoever they belong to will let you take them.’”

Disciples get the donkeys. No problems. -Check

Ride the donkey- “Hey Disciples, I need to ride this donkey colt.”

Disciples: “Ok, well, let’s put our coats on him.”

Coats on donkey - Check

People start showing up - Check

No clear announcement, other than in the folklore and religious texts. They said someday a man would come and perform miracles. That man would one day show up at a Passover time and ride on a colt with coats on it into Jerusalem through a gate on the East side of the city. The stories suggested that this man would free the Israelites from foreign rule, at this moment Rome. Israel would be a free and independent country again. Easy Peasy!

 They would finally be a Political Superpower, if you will.

This man would come to save their city from evil invaders. Cleanse their home from sinners. No more sickness, or poor, or hungry or suffering. All would be right with God.

These people lining the road, celebrating, waving Palm Branches. Heralding a new age of political, social, emotional, spiritual, physical, economic, and religious freedom.  These people, including the Disciples, thought Jesus was the man who would solve their every problem.

Their man of the hour.

But what does Jesus say when HE gets to the top of the hill? When he overlooks the city of Jerusalem? What does Jesus think of this Triumphal Entry?

Jesus wept.

He wept for all those people. 

The celebrating masses, including the disciples.

Why?

Because they misunderstood who he was. They projected onto him what they wanted him to be. They didn’t take the time to know who he was. They wanted peace in their lives at no cost to themselves. The people just wanted a fancy magic trick and for all the bad things to disappear.

They wanted the easy way out of a difficult situation.

I really don’t understand why we celebrate Palm Sunday.

It was a day that made Jesus cry.

I always feel somber and reflective. Are Christians today so different from the crowds or the disciples of that day? Am I? I wonder what it is that I am missing about Jesus’ message to me? How am I misrepresenting Him in my life? 

I take this week to think about these things. To prepare for Maundy Thursday.

An Ode to Poo

They’re cute, right?

Ase just into a toddler bed and Zany in a crib shared the master bedroom. With space to play and a huge window to watch the traffic drive by, they thought it was perfect.

Ase would wake up early, grab a few toys and give them to Zany in his crib. They would quietly play until I came in to get their day started. Ase would be changed and dressed first. Then Ase continued to play, but with one eye on me while I got Zany ready.

Then… the flu.

Ase got it first, then Zany. Both still in diapers. Carefully holding my breath I would peal back to reveal toxic waste.

After a few days, I went to the doctor. He told me about BRAT foods: Bananas, Rice, Applesauce and Toast. Doctor said it worked the same as Amodium and was better for them.

Ase responded quickly. Within a day he was solid and back on regular foods. Zany was slow to improve, but as they were tucked in that night I expected he would be fine by morning.

Their quiet murmurs greeted me as I walked down the hallway next morning. With a spring in my step and the hope of a poop free day in my heart, I opened their bedroom door.

Zany looked at me with dreamy blue eyes from the floor. Diaper gaping open. Brown goo smeared all over his legs and belly. Ase sat next to him: with a clean diaper and a hand full of wipes, his golden brown eyes met mine with pride:

“Mommy! I help Zany!”

I looked over at the crib. Sheets were spotted with caramel. What could I do? With a heart filled with love for his best friend, Ase gathered all the cleaning supplies, then somehow lifted Zany out of his crib. I couldn’t get mad. This was what we were working toward.

Brothers that worked together.
Brothers who would help each other out, no matter the cost.
Brothers who would work out differences.

So… I got down on my knees and helped him clean his brother. We talked about the mess. I told him how proud I was of him. That poop cleaning really is a Mommy and Daddy job, but I really appreciate him trying. It was a very loving thing to do.

THEN I cleaned every surface of that room. Praying nothing was left behind. What happened next was Legen...dary.

They traded that crap for the next six weeks.

I began to hate BRAT foods. They weren’t a savior, they were bondage. Just when things would get solid and they would try regular food, all went loose. In a fit of desperate crazy after Oprah one day, I made up the preschool germ nuking formula-1 part bleach/10 parts water- and cleaned the shit out of that room.

God often whispers this memory to my heart when I reach out to help someone. Ase was too small, to immature to effectively help Zany. How many times do I walk into someone’s life to help them but, instead make it worse? Many times the answer is simply to love the sinner and let Holy Spirit do his job. God is much better at cleaning up shit and getting the job done.