Palm/Passion Sunday (Year 1, NL)

There is something about the wail of a bagpipe that seems especially appropriate this Sunday.

For almost 40 years they have done their plodding, gracious work on me and my vocation.

In the Palm Sunday narrative, all the signs are there: something big is about to happen.

Even if we think we don’t need a savior, we seek one.

An odd, charming gospel account that draws from dozens of sources

In October of 1989, word came down from Moscow: the peace prayers in Leipzig must be stopped.

Triumphal entries have a certain formula. Jesus does it all wrong.

When she knew she was dying, my grandmother took me to see the cornerstone of a small brick church in my hometown of Kansas City, Missouri. I didn’t recognize the sign outside. It was a Baptist church, I think. It was pretty rundown, but still in better shape than the neighborhood. Overgrown vacant lots were everywhere; it was like visiting an abandoned church in the jungle.

A few years ago, while wandering through the Old City of Jerusalem, I stumbled upon a spray-painted sign on the side of a small factory building. It called out in English: “We need peace.”

It seemed to me like a modern-day cry of “hosanna” coming from the people of Jerusalem.

How does a crowd turn from shouts of joy to cries of murder in such a short span?

After Jesus shared his last supper with his friends, they sang a hymn together. There is every reason to believe it was the Hallel, Psalms 113 through 118. How have I missed this before?

On Palm Sunday we can answer the question, "Who is this?"