By Fr. Francis
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24 Mar, 2024
This year, as we enter our holiest week, we read the account of the passion from the Gospel of Mark. In a few days, on Good Friday, we will read the account from John. Among all the cruel and violent persons we hear about in Christ’s suffering last hours, perhaps it is easy to overlook those who were kind. At Bethany, Simon the leper offers him hospitality, and a (nameless to us) woman with an alabaster jar of perfumed oil anoints Jesus. Since Jesus will soon be executed as a criminal, with the possibility of no Jewish funeral rite or burial place, this was a tender moment of deep meaning. She put herself in danger to honor Him and His sacrifice. In Jerusalem, there was Simon of Cyrene who helped carry His cross, and Joseph of Arimathea who courageously asked Pilate for the body of Jesus and laid Him in a new tomb. All of these people, and perhaps more whom we do not know, were glimpses of light in a day of darkness. They were peace amidst the conflict; joy amidst the sorrow; celebration in the midst of tragedy. In other words, they are a sort of allegory to the hope of Easter that was present on Good Friday. So, why talk about this contrast, this dichotomy, today on Palm Sunday? Because this day itself is one of contrasts. Our liturgy, and Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem, began with palm branches and songs of joy and praise for Jesus as King. He is welcomed into the city with shouts of “Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” He will soon leave the city walls as the lowest of the low: a scourged, half-dead wreck of a man; a criminal set to be executed. In our Mass today, we will re-present His sacrifice, uniting our sins to those of the whole world and uniting our suffering to His. And, in the midst of all the horror, we will celebrate, for Christ will triumph over all of sin and death. There is a catchy little phrase that we might hear spoken of by Catholics – “we are not an either/or people, we are a both/and people.” It generally means that we have the critical reasoning capacity, and the faith, to hold two things in tension without being confused. So, for example, Christ is both divine and human; the kingdom of God is both present and not yet fully realized; the Eucharist is both the appearance of bread and wine and truly Christ’s body, blood, soul, and divinity. And, specific to our worship today, we are both an Easter people, and we live in a Good Friday world. That is to say, we believe that Christ’s death on the cross transformed all suffering and that by His resurrection, we have the promise of eternal life. But, we live in here and now, with all the suffering and evil still present in the world – a world in which we are called to be active witnesses to our faith. Every moment of our lives gives us a chance to be one or other of the type of persons we encountered in the passion narratives. With God’s help, may we be like Simon and the woman at Bethany, Simon of Cyrene, and Joseph of Arimathea – signs of hope in a world that cries out for it.