reflections on Palm/Passion Sunday

The Triumphal Entry...
"For more than two years, Jesus had been engaged in a public ministry.... He had learned much. So sensitive had grown his spirit and the living quality of his being that he seemed more and more to stand inside of life, looking out upon it as a man who gazes from a window in a room out into the yard and beyond to the distant hills. He could feel the sparrowness of the sparrow, the leprosy of the leper, the blindness of the blind, the crippleness of the cripple, and the frenzy of the mad. He had become joy, sorrow, hope, anguish, to the joyful, the sorrowful, the hopeful, the anguished. Could he feel his way into the mind and the mood of those who cast the palms and the flowers in his path? I wonder what was at work in the mind of Jesus of Nazareth as he jogged along on the back of the faithful donkey."
-Howard Thurman, from The Inward Journey

this past Sunday night, offered a prayer station to my students i called "the road to Jerusalem". i got the idea from Kimball and Lewin's Sacred Space, recently published by YS. printed thoughts and meditations like this one lined the "road" made with brown butcher paper. i also used the leftover palms from Sunday morning to line the road as well as smooth stones, which students were invited to take with them as a reminder of Jesus' words re: the quieting of the crowds and the fact that the stones themselves would cry out in the absence of the crowd's "Hosanna." Students were also invited to share their own praises, thoughts, concerns, questions, and fears on pre-printed "palms" and leave them along the road with the other palms for Jesus Christ. i set up the road to end at the foot of the cross that was already set up in our worship center. we got some really thought-provoking observations from the palms and i felt that it was a great opportunity for students to quiet themselves and reflect on the event as well as prepare their hearts and minds for Holy Week.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

re: Anne Lamott's "Mess" and John Wesley's "Perfection"

what was he thinking?

who keeps our story when we are gone?