March 24th, 2024: Reflections on Palm Sunday by The Reverand Valerie Hart

He stood at the top of the Mt of Olives looking down at the city of Jerusalem. Behind him was the town of Bethany where his friends Lazarus and Mary lived. Ahead of him he looked at the stunning view of the city over which he had wept. Directly below he could see the grandeur of the Temple and the large platform on which it was built. The road lead past a graveyard. It was considered by Jews then, and now, a blessing to be buried on that hillside, for the Messiah was predicted to arrive from that direction.

Jesus knew how the Messiah was to enter Jerusalem. He knew all the prophecies, and he was about to follow them to the smallest detail. He called for a donkey to ride on. His closest followers put their coats on the donkey, and the crowds began to cheer. Everyone understood the implications of this ride into Jerusalem. Jesus was proclaiming that he was the one promised for centuries. By this ride he announced to everyone that he was taking on the role of the Messiah.

As he rode down the hill the procession passed by a garden where many people spent the night, for with Passover coming there was nowhere to stay in the city. Jesus and his disciples were used to sleeping out under the trees, and there was a peacefulness to that garden called Gethsemane. It was a good base for Jesus and his friends. But when he looked over that way, did he understand the agonizing night he would soon spend there? Such a mix of emotions must have passed through his human heart. How could he not get caught up in the joy and excitement of the crowd shouting Hosanna? Perhaps he thought that this would be the way and that it would be enough for the people to proclaim him king. But he also knew that there would have to be more. He knew that this story did not end with the joyful, triumphant entry. He knew there were dark, difficult chapters ahead as he passed that peaceful garden.

Less than a week later he was back in the garden, alone, on his knees on a hard rocky outcropping. The cheering crowds had evaporated, his friends were too sleepy to stay awake with him, and one of his closest followers, whom he so deeply loved, was betraying him to the authorities. Jesus knew all the prophecies, he knew what they meant, he knew the script he needed to follow, but he didn't want to. He knew the cup he was to drink, and he didn't want it. He knew what his loving father wanted from him, but he didn't want to give it. He knew what was necessary to save humanity, but he begged God to find another way.

In the book and movie 'The Last Temptation of Christ' the last temptation is described as the desire to lead a normal life. The temptation to run away from the cross, get married, have kids, and live a simple normal life. He could have done that. He could have slipped into the darkness and become lost in the crowds. If he had kept quiet, if he had stopped preaching, if he had lost himself in everyday life, the authorities would have left him alone. There in that garden he had a choice, and he said 'Yes' to God, just as his mother had said yes to God so many years before.

He whispered the words, "Not what I want, but what you want." Those words rang out across the hillside, "Not what I want, but what you want." They rang all the way up to heaven, and opened the door of salvation. "Not what I want, but what you want." It was at that moment that humanity was saved, for once he uttered those words, once he prayed that prayer, it all happened as it was supposed to. Those words, "Not what I want, but what you want," continue to ring across the centuries and touch our souls, for how can we not be touched by that ultimate prayer of faith and love and surrender.

We each have our own gardens of Gethsemane, our own times when we desperately want to not live out what we know God is calling us to. It may be at a time of crisis, when we are confronted with a medical problem; it might be when someone we love is dying. You might find yourself called to confront someone you care about, or someone you work with, who is living in a way that they shouldn't. Do your turn in you colleague for illegal manipulation of the finances of your company? Do you call the police on your child who is killing him or herself with drugs? Do you leave a spouse that is abusive? Do you stay with and forgive a spouse that has betrayed you and is repentant? Do you change your job if you feel you cannot serve God and your employer? Do you not want to give up your 'normal life' in order to follow Christ?

Being a follower to that Jewish carpenter never was and never will be an easy thing. To choose to walk with Christ means not just to cheer him as king and wave your palms. It does not mean occasionally coming to church on Sunday and engaging in the joy of praising God. It also means sitting with him in Gethsemane. It means tearfully giving up the struggle to do things our own way and to humbly say to our loving Father "not what I want, but what you want." It means being willing to sacrifice having a "normal life" in order to live a loving life. It means dying to all the selfishness in our hearts and learning to serve. It means saying yes to our own cross, yes to our own suffering, and yes to a loving God.

Let us spend a few minutes together in silence, joining with Christ as he knelt on the hard stone of Gethsemane and see if we are ready to say, "not what I want, but what you want."