Reflections by Rev. Joanne Anquist
This coming Sunday is Palm Sunday – the day Jesus rode into Jerusalem and was greated with a parade. All four gospels have an account of this ride into Jerusalem but each of them is a little different. For instance, in Luke, our gospel reading for Sunday, Jesus comes in on a colt that has never been ridden, not a donkey. There are no branches in sight. Instead the disciples thrown their cloaks over the colt for Jesus to sit on, and the people lay their cloaks on the ground in front of him. Mark too has Jesus riding on a colt with the disciples cloaks on their back. This time, the people lay cloaks and leafy branches. Matthew specifies a donkey and a colt, both were brought to Jesus and he road in on both, presumably he was on the colt but the Mother was needed to keep him calm. Matthew, like Mark has the cloaks as saddle cloths and the cut branches and cloaks strewn on the road. John is the only gospel that mentions palm branches, though Jesus finds a donkey for the ride in. John does not mention cloaks being used.
It struck me, as I was reviewing the four accounts of the triumphal entry into Jerusalem, that palm branches are only mention in one book (John), and yet we call it Palm Sunday. If anything, it should be called “Cloak Sunday” since in 3 of the 4 stories, spreading the cloaks was at least as prominent as the branches, leafy or otherwise. But palm branches, mentioned only in John, have become the symbol of Holy Week that cannot be shaken from our psyche.
It strikes me that sometimes a simple, small detail that isn’t really that important, can take on an outsized meaning when we look back on the important events of our lives. Something small becomes a symbol of the whole – a pointer to a larger truth. I have a necklace a friend gave me the day before she entered hospice. That necklace is way more than a piece of jewelry: it holds the memories of our relationship, her illness, my grief, her legacy of love.
Sometimes symbols take on different meanings for different times. Our Canadian maple leaf has been a symbol of our democratic, friendly, non-threatening country – especially when it is sewn to a backpack as our people travel the world! It became a symbol of protest by the Convoy during Covid and lost it’s power to move many folks as a result of it being co-opted by that group. Now, with our uncertain relationship with our neighbours to the south, the flag has become a symbol of resistance and pride in our country. It is a strong reminder of all it means to be Canadian.
Symbols flood our souls with memories and emotions. Symbols help us organize meaning in ways that create the story of our lives. What are the symbols of your life? Are there small things that hold deep meaning for you? Is there a song that speaks to your deep love, a piece of furniture that holds your family’s history, a place that brings back fond memories?
As we move into “Palm Sunday” (or “Cloak Sunday” as I shall henceforth call it!), may that branch become a symbol of Holy Week, of your journey with Jesus, of suffering and injustice but also of insistent praise that resonates down through the millenia and into our lives.
God of Praise and Palms and Cloaks that colour the path. May this Holy Week remind us again of the hopes of a people and the fragility of human life. Journey with us towards the cross and the tomb, the symbols of our struggle. May we sit in this time, making space for lament. Prepare us for Easter blessing. Amen