Palm Sunday Scripture Readings “’For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,’ declares the Lord.” [Isaiah 53:8] People think that God doesn’t play favorites, but I disagree. I find that God has a distinct bias toward the anawim—the little ones, the poor, the disenfranchised, the downtrodden, the despised. The reason for this is simple: those are the people who have nothing and no one else to rely on. They’re the ones who seek God with “all their heart and soul and mind and strength.” [cf. Mark 12:30] They’re the ones loving their neighbor as themselves, sharing what little they have with others so that all may perhaps survive. At the same time, those with wealth, power, and prestige imagine themselves to be self-sufficient to the extent that God becomes for them a pious option rather than a vital necessity. I think we see this scenario playing out even through today’s liturgy. We just heard about Jesus’s entry into Jerusalem. Did you ever wonder who was in that crowd calling out, “Hosannah!”? Luke tells us that it was a crowd of his disciples. Yesterday’s gospel reading mentioned that, as the Passover festival approached, these were the ones who gathered in the temple precincts, wondering aloud whether Jesus would come there for the feast, or not. They feared for him because they knew his opponents among the religious leaders were openly calling for his arrest out of fear of what the Romans would do to them if a riot broke out because of Jesus. Still, his followers longed to see him. When they heard he was on his way, they rushed out excitedly to welcome him. “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord.” These people who called out to him…they were the anawim. In just a moment, we’ll be hearing how a crowd gathered to see Jesus condemned. Do you think it was the same crowd? I don’t. These were the people who ate up the public spectacle. These were the ones who cheered at public executions and who’d stand under a ledge yelling at someone about to commit suicide and shouting, “Do it! Jump!” or who’d text a classmate telling them they should kill themselves. They were the ghoulish mob who got their kicks seeing the downtrodden trampled underfoot. These were they for whom others’ misfortune made them feel superior. “Crucify him! Crucify him!” These people who jeered at him…they were the self-sufficient. Jesus has been called the “sacrament of the encounter with God.” In other words, as Jesus said once to Philip, “Have you been with me so long, and still you do not know me? Whoever sees me sees the Father.” [John 14:9] And, what we see when we open our eyes of faith is the God who saves us, not as those with wealth, power, and prestige hope to be saved by being plucked out of their troubles and rising above them, but by the knowledge that, through it all, Immanuel—that is, God is with us. He saves us not by pulling us out of our pain and sorrow, but by going through it with us, strengthening and consoling us, and transforming our tears to joy. The story is told of men in a concentration camp during World War II. A young boy of eight or nine was caught stealing food. The guards decided to make an example of him and called the men of the camp together around the gallows. They made the prisoners watch as the boy was strung up by the neck with piano wire. One of the prisoners, barely able to contain his rage, turned to another whom he knew to be a strong believer and spat out, “Where’s your God now?” The believer solemnly pointed at the boy thrashing about in his last agony and said simply, “There he is.” One of our Eucharistic Prayers, as it presents for us our Haggadah, the retelling of our story, says that he destroyed death and revealed the resurrection, lest we forget that there is no resurrection without the cross. We cannot buy our way out of suffering and death; we cannot bully our way out of it; and nobody’s going to come to take it away or rescue us from it. Wealth, power, and prestige are useless. Self-sufficiency vanishes before the great mystery of death. In that most beautiful text in all of Saint Paul’s writings, in his letter to the Philippians that we’ll hear read in just a moment, we get to remember that, as Christ humbled himself for our sakes, “even unto death, death on a cross, therefore God raised him on high and gave him a name above every other name…” This self-emptying—this kenosis—was more than just a sign to us or a lesson for us. It’s God’s promise, God’s covenant. Christ didn’t do this instead of us, he did it for our sakes as our pioneer, blazing a trail for us to follow so that we can be sure that, as we face our own passion and death, we walk a well-trodden path as in us the Father puts an end to death and reveals the resurrection. Now, we set out on our journey through this Holy Week on our way to Easter, for his death is our death and our death is his, as well. So also, his resurrection is our resurrection as he accompanies us on our way home. Readings & Homily Video Get articles from H. Les Brown delivered to your email inbox