Photo courtesy of Scott Webb of Pexels.com

For Christians the world over tomorrow is Palm Sunday. It marks the day that Jesus made his way back to Jerusalem for the last time. He had spent the prior three years performing miracles, healing the afflicted, and preaching the tenets of the Kingdom of God.

Tomorrow we’ll wave our palm branches as we process into our churches.

But why? What’s the significance of palms? The gospels tell us that the crowds who had lined up for Jesus’ triumphal entry waved palms while shouting Hosanna as he rode past them on a donkey.

Biblical scholars offer several explanations. I lean strongly toward the answer that the Jewish people were thinking, “THIS IS THE GUY! The one we’ve been waiting for. Here comes Jesus of Nazareth, KING of the Jews. Our King! He’s going to rescue us from this Roman domination system. He’s going to free us from this tyranny and life will be good.”

And so they waved their branches of palm trees—a sign of victory fit for a king. In those times, victors of battle were greeted and honored with waving palms. It was also an old custom to receive persons of great authority in this manner.

Hosanna (from the Hebrew hosianna) was an age-old cry for help or saving. We now use it as a proclamation of joy, but clearly the people were longing to be rescued from domination and were crying out for help as well as acknowledging that this was the chosen one who would make that happen.

It’s believed that people expected Jesus to overthrow the Roman government by force in order to establish his own kingdom. Really? The most loving and compassionate human being (because we must always remember that Jesus was a real person) who ever lived on this earth was going to use force? They heard the words but they didn’t get his message.

And it’s clear that not even his disciples, the twelve who had traveled with him, experienced the teachings and healings and lessons first-hand, truly understood the meaning of Jesus establishing the Kingdom of God on earth.

With Billy Graham’s recent death, there have been many stories and programs about him. One of my favorite stories is his crisis with faith. Yes, you heard me. Billy Graham, surely one of the most secure men of God ever, had a faith crisis.

His grandson Will shares the story in the link at the end of this post. But here’s a quote about his grandfather and the crisis: “….he walked out into the woods and set his Bible on a stump – more an altar than a pulpit – and he cried out: “O God! There are many things in this book I do not understand. There are many problems with it for which I have no solution. There are many seeming contradictions. There are some areas in it that do not seem to correlate with modern science. I can’t answer some of the philosophical and psychological questions…others are raising.”

So yes, we do have questions. We don’t understand it all. For instance, science has proved that the world is 4.5 billion years old, yet the age of the world according to the Bible is 6000 years. We can believe the creation story of the world and all that’s in it being created in seven days as we think of days, or we can believe that a “God day” of creation wasn’t just 24 hours. Or we can believe that God created the big bang and later inspired the writer of Genesis to tell the story in a more understandable way.

I love reading the story of creation each year at the Easter vigil. No science gets in my way of understanding that, however it happened, creation was by God’s hand.

I think God intends us to think about our faith deeply and talk about it openly.  And if the disciples and Billy Graham had some trouble understanding it all, I think we’re in good company.

Here’s the link to the story by Will Graham.

“A circular rainbow”…Photo by Blue Mountains Nature Photography. Used with permission.

The group discussion was on a paradigm-shifting topic. While I enjoy being challenged to think outside the perimeter of my entrenched attitudes and thoughts, this particular idea was causing me some distress.

When the facilitator asked the group for feedback, I said, “I’m disturbed.” After the group enjoyed a friendly laugh (assuming I was kidding), I admitted that I was serious. The analogy I gave was this:

Many years ago someone (I don’t know who) televised what felt like a long public service announcement. It demonstrated how easily we can be swayed to think differently on a long-held attitude or belief. Part of the program dealt with children and the American flag. It went something like this:

The scene opened with elementary school children and their elderly grey-haired teacher reciting the Pledge of Allegiance. Suddenly a group of men came in and led away the teacher. The replacement teacher was a young, pretty blond. She acted as if she had no idea what the children were doing and engaged the children in conversation with questions such as: Why do you say this pledge? What is so special about the flag?

Pretending to accept and agree with their explanation, she said, “Well, if the flag is so special, let’s take it down and cut it up so we can each have a small piece of it!” And so they did, quite happily.

Ending the story, I told the group, “That’s how I feel right now—as though my understanding of how I think about this has been cut up into pieces.”

The group took in my story thoughtfully. Then the facilitator said, “Instead of cutting the flag into pieces, let’s take it down and move it to the front so we can all see it better.”

Someone else said, “Or let’s move it into the center of our circle so we can all be closer to it.”

A third person contributed, “Let’s wrap it around you to comfort you.”

The final comment was, “Or even if it had been cut into pieces, we could sew it back together.”

What meaningful responses from a group of casual friends!  One could imagine the answers as coming from life-long friends who know, love, and understand me.

It would have been easier for me to have kept silent. Many of us shy away from admitting what we perceive as a personal failure or from asking for help, even when we really need it. It can be scary.

But it’s so worth the risk.