Posts Tagged ‘Palm Sunday’

Humble and riding on a donkey – Palm Sunday

April 14, 2025

Palm Sunday – 2025

Luke 22:14 – 23:56, Phil 2:5-11

Marian Free

In the name of God who calls us and empowers us and who shows us our true worth. Amen.

Paul writes: Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, 

                  who, though he was in the form of God,

                                    did not regard equality with God

                                    as something to be exploited, 

                  but emptied himself,

                                    taking the form of a slave,

                                    being born in human likeness.

                  And being found in human form, 

                                    he humbled himself

                                    and became obedient to the point of death—

                                    even death on a cross.

To conclude from this that Jesus had no agency, or that he allowed himself to be put upon would be a mistake.

Humility can one of the most difficult virtues to grasp and to practice. It requires a great deal of balance. Humility is often mistaken for weakness[1], submission or meekness whereas it is in humility that true strength lies. One of the problems in coming to grips with humility is that it can appear to be contradictory in nature, and it is often easier to define in terms of what it is not rather than what it is. So, for example while humility involves not thinking more highly of oneself than is warranted, it also means not thinking less of oneself than one deserves. Misunderstanding humility leads to false modesty and to self-deprecation, both of which suggest a focus on oneself which leads of pride, the opposite of humility. Worse, false modesty is a denial of the unique gifts and talents bestowed on us by God. 

To be humble is to have a realistic view of oneself – one’s weaknesses and one’s strengths. Humility means having a willingness to learn, from others and from one’s mistakes but it does not mean underestimating or denying our gifts, hiding our light under bushel, being silent in the face of injustice, or allowing ourselves to be treated as a door mat.

The readings for this morning highlight the contradictory nature of humility – or the balance between what appears to be pride and the total trust in and reliance on God. In Isaiah, the speaker boasts of his strengths at the same time as acknowledging that these come from the Lord. The Christ hymn of Philippians celebrates Jesus’ humble self-emptying, and his giving up his divinity to fully inhabit his humanity. Yet Jesus’ behaviour as he enters Jerusalem – his willingness to accept the adulation and praise of the people and their acknowledgement of his kingship, his overturning of the tables in the temple and his confident responses to the challenges of the leaders and teachers of the church suggest a Jesus who is anything but humble in the usual sense of the word. 

In the account of the Passion, Jesus’ insistence that God has given him a kingdom, his allowing his disciples to be armed, his composure when faced with Judas’ betrayal and the secrecy which surrounded his arrest and his refusal to be drawn into a defence of his messiahship indicate his clear understanding of who he is – not a weak submission to fate. Jesus’ insistence that the Son of Man will be seated at the right hand of God, his insistence that the women not feel sorry for him, his offering of forgiveness from the cross and his assurance to the contrite criminal that he would enter Paradise all demonstrate a healthy ego, a quiet strength, and a confidence in his role which could be mistaken for pride.

It is these apparent contradictions that give us a sense of what it truly means to be humble. Jesus’ determination, self-belief and self-awareness are anything but the weakness and mildness that are often associated with humility. Jesus accepted his God-given role, which was to submit to God’s will for his life, but he absolutely refused to deny the gifts that came with the role. He didn’t exploit his divinity, but neither did he deny the strengths associated with it. He allowed the soldiers to demean and torture him, but he maintained a steely resolve to see his task through to the end[2].

Jesus’ humility was born out of a confidence in himself, his clear understanding of his role and his place before God, and a determination to follow the path set before him wherever it led. Jesus’ certainty with regard to his role and his assurance that he was following God’s will, gave him the courage to stay true to himself rather than be tempted to use his godliness to avoid what lay ahead.

As we enter into Holy Week and walk with Jesus to the cross may we have a true sense of our own worth, recognise our strengths and our limitations and know our place in God’s plan for the world and have the courage to be true to our God-given selves.


[1] One of the on-line dictionary definitions suggested that submissiveness, meekness and lowliness are synonyms which surely is misleading. and leads to an understanding of humility as self-abnegation, rather than a true sense of one’s worth.

[2] In the desert Jesus had already demonstrated an ability to withstand temptation to grasp power, or to use the power that he did have to gain followers, wealth and governance of the world.  At any point could have, as he could in the wilderness, laid claim to his godliness – called down angels to fight for him, spoken in his defence (not that that would have worked), shown anger or given in to despair.

Ash Wednesday

March 5, 2025

Ash Wednesday

On Sunday during the liturgy[1], we burnt the palm crosses given out last year on Palm Sunday. The ashes from these crosses will form the ash with which church goers will be marked today.  The wording for this ritual was so moving that I thought it worth sharing.

The Burning of the Palm Crosses

Let us give thanks and worship God with reverence and awe

for our God is a consuming fire.

On Palm Sunday last year we carried these crosses of palm as a sign of the victory of

Jesus. They were new and green and fresh. They were a sign to us of all the good and

holy within us that responds to God’s call in our lives.

But they are made in the form of the cross.

They reminded us that like the first disciples we, too, fail to live into the truth of Jesus

and must humbly wait for God’s grace to bring us home. We have kept them

throughout this year. Now we give them up to the fire.

The palm crosses are lit.

The ashes call to mind endings. The end of unclear thinking, insecure faith, wavering

commitment and the end of the struggle between death and life.

Loving God,

bless us as we prepare to look deeply within ourselves

through the coming season of Lent.

Let these ashes be for us a way to journey more deeply into Christ. Amen.

Two things stood out for me – the newness and freshness of the crosses when we received them last year contrasted with the endings that the ashes call to mind.

The words with which we are marked with ash: “Dust you are and to dust you will return” are both powerful and humbling words. Not only do they recall our creation from the earth, but they serve as a reminder of our insignificance in the broader scheme of things. “Dust you are.” In the context of the broader community, the nations, the world, the galaxy, the universe, we are as a speck of dust – small and irrelevant except in the very small circle in which we exist. What is more, no matter what we achieve in this lifetime – fame, fortune, influence, it will come to an end.  

Knowing this put all worries, hurts, ambitions, and dreams into perspective – in the wider scheme of things they are trivial. For most of us, all our striving and all our holding on will, at the end, come to nothing. 

Lent is a wonderful time to put things into perspective, to reflect on beginnings and endings and to recalibrate our relationship with God, with each other and with creation.

May you have a holy and fruitful Lenten season.


[1] St Andrew’s Indooroopilly.

What – no palm branches??

April 9, 2022

Palm Sunday – 2022
Luke 19:28-39
Marian Free

In the name of God who cannot be captured by the limits of our imagination, and who continues to surprise and astound us. Amen.

For many of us Palm Sunday holds special memories – the procession, the hymns, the palms, the drama. “All glory, laud and honour.” The chorus resounds in our heads as we make our way to church and the new palm crosses rest in our hands as we make our way home. The church will have been both bright (with palms) and sombre – all the crosses now covered in purple – a reminder that the triumph of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem heralds the humiliation of the crucifixion. There may have been a dramatization of the gospels and we hear ourselves saying: “Crucify him, crucify him!”

Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem is one of the stories that, possibly because of its dramatic presentation during the liturgy, captures our imagination and remains with us from our childhood on. We know it so well – the donkey freely given (though the owner does not know for what it will be used), the palms that are waved and used to cover the ground under Jesus, the shouts of the crowds – “Hosanna!” and “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!”

At least that is what we think the story says. I wonder, how many of us have really paid attention? Now that the account of the passion takes centre stage on Palm Sunday, I suspect that a majority of us rely on our memories rather than on the gospels themselves, for the details of the events that accompany Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem. Indeed, most of us would not know which gospel formed the basis for our ideas of what occurred and, even if we had taken the time to read all four gospel accounts of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem, it is unlikely that we would have noticed the differences between the accounts – which elements have taken centre stage and which have fallen by the wayside.

May I suggest that you take time to read all four different gospel accounts and that you make a point to discern which aspects of the day the different authors emphasised. (I’ll give you a clue. Matthew has the disciples borrow both a donkey and the colt of a donkey because one of his goals is to demonstrate the ways in which Jesus fulfills the Old Testament – in this case the prophet Zechariah 9:9 (“Lo, your king comes to you; triumphant and victorious is he, humble and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.”)

Given that our Lectionary this year follows Luke’s gospel, I have paid particular attention to what Luke has written. If you have already read the four gospels, you might have noticed a number of things his account – in particular the fact that there are no palm branches might have stood out for you. Despite the fact that we take for granted that palm branches (or at least branches) were waved in the air, according to Luke not only was nothing waved, but there were no palms at all! If we were solely reliant on Luke’s account of events we would think that there was no waving and that only cloaks were laid on the ground before Jesus. “Cloak Sunday” doesn’t have the same ring to it and our processions would look entirely different if Luke was our only account.

Other details are different in Luke’s version. No one shouts: “Hosanna!” (That word does not occur at all in the third gospel.) Instead, Luke adds the words: “Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest heaven!” which remind us of the words of the angels to the shepherds. Also, it is difficult to know (from the account in this gospel) whether it is “the crowds” who cheer on Jesus as he enters the city, or whether it is just his disciples. (Luke tells us that it is a multitude of disciples who “praise God in a loud voice” and that the Pharisees order Jesus to stop his disciples.) In other words, those who already know Jesus and have followed him from Galilee are the only people who are shouting out as he enters Jerusalem. These details, I think you will agree, puts an entirely new slant on the story.

That doesn’t mean that we have to let go of our childhood memories, but it does challenge us to pay attention, to recognise that we don’t actually know as much as we think we know, and to let go of our preconceived ideas and our settled approach to our scriptures. The four accounts of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem remind us to ask ourselves: “What else are we missing?”, to understand that it is important that we take nothing for granted, and that we approach scripture with open minds and with a sense of expectancy. If we are not to become stuck in our views or to left behind, it is essential that we anticipate surprises whenever we open our bibles instead of reading scriptures through the lens of what we already know.

Unfortunately, our relationship with God can be the same as our relationship with scripture. Whether we are radical or conservative we can reach a point at which we become complacent, and our notion of God becomes settled. Sadly, when we become comfortable with our image of God we lose our sense of awe and expectancy, we surrender our willingness to be pulled up short by an unexpected revelation of God and we fail to be surprised by the unexpected presence (or absence) of God in a person, a place or an event. We are losers not winners, if we become self-satisfied and comfortable with our faith – because God (and scripture) will ALWAYS have something more to reveal and something more to teach us.

As we approach Holy Week, may we see the events as if for the first time, be attentive to details that we might have missed and filled with the expectation that God always has something new to share with us.

Whose side are we on?

March 27, 2021

Palm Sunday – 2021

Mark 11:1-11

Marian Free

May I speak in the name of God, Earthmaker, Painbearer, Lifegiver. Amen.

I grew up in the era of protest – primarily protests against apartheid and against the Vietnam war. We lived a stone’s throw from the University and the marchers would often pass our street on their way to the city. Among our church congregation were students who felt strongly enough that they joined the marches and among our acquaintances was a long-serving police officer who was brought in to enforce the law. In any situation of  unrest there are at least two narratives – that of the government and the status quo and that of those who believe that they are standing up against injustice, oppression and/or evil. Depending on the lens through which we observe the situation, we will have more sympathy for one side or the other. We will see the police/the armed forces as brutes or defenders of the peace and the protestors as courageous truth-sayers or radical disturbers of the peace.

To take two recent examples. In Myanmar today, the army will be asserting that they are simply trying to maintain order, fight corruption and build a stable government. On the other hand, the protesters, incensed at the removal of a democratically elected government, are voicing their opposition to the coup. Whose side do you take – that of the protesters who are willing to lose their lives for what they believe to be right, or the government which is determined that right is on their side? In the UK recently, police were accused of using force to break up a protest related to the death of Sarah Eve are and violence against women. Police were anxious to prevent the spread of COVID, the women were making the point that violence against women needs to stop. Which narrative do we hold to be true? Sometimes it is easy to make a decision as to who is in the right, but sometimes we, the onlookers find ourselves conflicted – both sides are right at least in part.

I wonder where we would stand if we found ourselves in first century Jerusalem during Passover?

One could be forgiven if one thought that Jesus was being deliberately provocative when he arrived in Jerusalem for the feast. His actions seem to be deliberate and well thought out, not spur of the moment reactions to what he sees.

A closer look at the narrative reveals that Jesus has planned his entry. Whether or not he has warned the owner of the donkey that he will send his disciples to borrow the colt, Jesus has obviously determined that he will ride into Jerusalem in the manner of a King (as described in Zechariah 9). Most people will have ascended  into Jerusalem on foot, but Jesus has chosen to ride. He was not only arriving in the manner of the expected King, but he was also ensuring that he stood out from the crowd. His action assured that he was noticed by the people who have thronged to Jerusalem for the Passover and it is little surprise that they interpreted his arrival as that the one who comes in the name of the Lord, the one who will save Israel.

What is interesting is that Jesus doesn’t press his advantage. He doesn’t immediately gather the crowds and form a movement. When it gets late, he simply leaves the city and returns to Bethany.

We are left to wonder what he does overnight. Was he incensed by what he sees as the corruption and hypocrisy of the Temple priests? Does he stew over what he has seen? We will never know. What we do know is that the next day, he is in anything but a good mood. On his way back to Jerusalem in the morning he saw a fig which had no fruit and – even though it was probably the wrong time of year for figs – he cursed the tree – which will never bear fruit again. When he re- entered Jerusalem, he went straight to the Temple where, as we know, he overturned the tables of the money changers and drove the animals from the Temple precincts. Again, this does not seem to be a spur of the moment action – after all he was in the Temple the previous day. It appears as though he has deliberately come to challenge the use of the Temple as a marketplace. Then having antagonised those in power in Jerusalem – Jew and Roman alike – Jesus leaves the city once more.

On the third day he returned to Jerusalem and the Temple and when, the religious leaders engaged him in debate, he not only defeated them, but he further angered them by telling a parable against them.

In this scenario, Jesus is presented as anything but a peacemaker. In fact, he seems to be deliberately antagonising the religious and secular leaders. It is as if he has no time to lose – his critique of the system cannot wait, he must confront it head on. It is as if he is trying to force their hands, to expose their hypocrisy, to bring things to a head. In this, as we know, he succeeded. Before the week was out he had been arrested, tried and crucified. An innocent man murdered – or was he?

How one views Jesus’ death depends on the narrative that we choose to believe. Was he – as the leaders of the time thought – the subversive radical who needed to be destroyed? Or was he – as we now believe to be true – the Saviour of the world? Before we judge the first century crowds too harshly we must ask ourselves which narrative would we have believed had we been there –  that of the leaders or that of Jesus?

In today’s world when people speak truth to power, we must open our minds and hearts so that when we are disquieted and the status quo is threatened we don’t jump to the conclusion that they are radicals, trouble-makers or subversives or we may find that we too quickly join the voices that call for their (Jesus’) destruction.

How is your relationship with Jesus?

March 24, 2018

Palm Sunday – 2018

Mark 14:1 – 15:27

Marian Free

In the name of God who asks us to retain an openness to the world around us so that we don’t mistake Jesus for a trouble-maker and miss him altogether. Amen.

We interrupt this bulletin to bring you some breaking news. Police have called for back up to quell a potential riot in the small regional town of Woiwoorung. Crowds from all over the region have descended on the town for the annual music festival. The usual levels of excitement and anticipation are threatening to spill over into mob behavior with the arrival in town of one Jesse Bunda. Jesse, a young indigenous woman, is well-known to police. She is a controversial figure who has been attracting crowds wherever she goes. Jesse has been spreading the message that the regional authorities are inefficient and corrupt. She has been suggesting that those who live beyond the town have the power to take things into their own hands to create better lives for themselves.

Some people are drawn to her and almost as many are disturbed by her presence, her actions and her words. The authorities in particular are wishing that she simply would fade away. As we speak, the police have the situation in hand, but they are worried that there might be a stand-off between Jesse’s supporters and those who see themselves as the brunt of her criticism.

At this moment the streets of Woiwoorung are continuing to fill with people. They are spilling out of their homes and businesses, from the pubs, the shops and the school just to catch a glimpse of the person who is causing such a stir. There is so much excitement in the usually quiet town that people are climbing on to cars and the backs of trucks. They are calling out, waving clothes and branches – doing whatever they can to catch Jesse’s attention. The populace is wondering whether Jesse will dare to speak here – here in front of the authorities of whom she has been so critical. Until now the influential people of the town have, of course, known about Jesse and what she has been doing, but they had thought of her as a harmless eccentric whose influence would die out as quickly as it had grown. They were completely unprepared for today’s reaction.

Our reporters on the ground tell us that it is almost impossible for the local police to see what is going on. At any moment things might turn ugly especially if those who support the status quo decide to take on those who are challenging it.

Keep watching as we bring you the latest developments.

It is easy for us, from the perspective of our comfortable, middle-class Anglicanism, to think of Jesus as a benign and comforting figure, to forget that in his day he was difficult, confrontational and divisive. As much as there were people who welcomed him and his message, there were those who viewed him with anxiety and suspicion – even with alarm. Almost from the start of his ministry Jesus angered and offended the leaders of his day – the Pharisees, the scribes and the priests. Jesus blatantly broke the Sabbath law and presumed to forgive sins – something that was God’s prerogative. He called the Pharisees hypocrites and told parables that implied that the authorities were greedy and corrupt. And the people he mixed with – well no decent, law-abiding person would have been seen dead with them, let alone have eaten with them or, worse still, included them among their companions. Those in authority could have been forgiven for thinking that he was inciting insurrection – after all the crowds seemed to hang on his every word and at any moment they could have turned against them. Jesus was provocative, disruptive and troublesome. No wonder that those charged with keeping the peace wanted to subdue and restrain him. No wonder they wanted to get rid of him.

From time to time I find myself asking: “If Jesus were among us today, would I recognise him (or her)? Would I find Jesus challenging and disturbing or comforting and reassuring? Would I try to protect the status quo or would I join Jesus in challenging structures and norms that had become unwieldy and unhelpful? Would I have the courage to own up to and let go of my hypocrisy?” The answer is, “I don’t know.” I can only hope that I have not created a Jesus who makes feel comfortable and secure and that I am able to retain an openness to who Jesus might have been and who Jesus might be if he were to appear in front of me today.

We should never be so comfortable in our faith that we do not allow our ideas to be challenged. We should never be so complacent that we allow ourselves to think that we know all there is to know and we should never simply assume that we alone are on the side of right.

Two thousand years ago, those who thought they knew who and what to expect called for Jesus to be put to death. Let us hope that we do not make the same mistake.

How is your relationship with Jesus? Would you know Jesus if he were right in front of you?

 

 

 

 

 

 

God doesn’t not lose faith with us

April 8, 2017

Lent 6 – Palm Sunday, 2017

Matthew 26:14-27:66

Marian Free

In the name of God, who overlooks our faults and who restores us again and again so that we can take our part in the story. Amen.

In the latest issue of Liturgy News David Kirchhoffer reflects on the nature of sainthood. He reminds us that sainthood is not a matter of one-size fits all and that there is no simple definition that incorporates the diversity among those whom his tradition elevates to the status of saint or martyr[1]. “They all have stories, “ he comments, “their own all-too-human stories. Among the saints there are emperors and paupers, young and old, ascetics and hedonists, masters and slaves, colonizers and colonized, reformers and conservatives, and certainly more than one who, by today’s standards, probably experienced some sort of psychological disorder.” David’s point is that rather than being “shown up” by the saints, we actually find ourselves in very good company. The people who are deemed to be most holy by the church are as human and as flawed as the rest of us. Rather than making us feel inadequate and unworthy, the lives of the saints remind us that they are not so very different from us and that our faltering efforts to be holy and faithful are in fact good enough.

If we are in any doubt as to God’s ability to overlook our deficiencies, we need look no further than this morning’s gospel, which among other things is a tale of the whole world’s being at cross purposes with God. It is not only the chief priests and elders and the Roman authorities who try to destroy Jesus and his mission. It is those in Jesus’ immediate circle – his disciples and friends – who hand him over to the authorities, misunderstand their role, sleep when Jesus most needs their support, desert him, deny him and leave him alone to face trial and death.

Of course, not all of the characters in this account are numbered among the saints, but twelve of the those in the drama are Jesus’ most intimate friends, those with whom he has shared the highs and lows of his mission, those whom he has authorized to preach and teach and heal and those whom he has prepared to continue on his work after he has gone. These are the men with whom Jesus has chosen to spend what may be his last night on earth, those with whom he will share the most significant evening on the Jewish calendar. Without exception each of the twelve will let Jesus down before the night is out and yet Jesus refuses to condemn them or to exclude even Judas from the company.

Judas, who, even before the preparations for the dinner had begun, had received thirty pieces of silver to hand Jesus over to the authorities. Judas who, when Jesus announces at the meal that one of the disciples will hand him over, reveals what it is that sets him apart from the other disciples[2]. Whereas the eleven address Jesus as “Lord”, Judas addresses Jesus only as“Rabbi” (teacher). Jesus knows that it is Judas who will hand him over to the authorities and yet when he says: “Take eat, this is my body”, he places the bread in Judas’ hands. When he says: “This is my blood of the new covenant, poured out for the forgiveness of sins,” Judas is not excluded from the covenant or from the promise of forgiveness.

Jesus knows that despite Peter’s protestations to the contrary, Peter will deny him – not once but three times. Even so Peter too is given the bread and the wine – Jesus’ body and Jesus’ blood. Of the eleven who remain with Jesus after the meal, not one will find the strength to stay awake with Jesus even though Jesus has shared with them that he is “grieved unto death”. Still, on this, his last night on earth, Jesus will share with them his very self and he will do so lovingly, not reproachfully, with grace and not with disappointment. Jesus knows their limitations. Before it comes to pass he knows how each will respond to the events of the night but he does not abandon them as they will abandon him.

Of these twelve, men who made promises that they failed to keep, all but Judas are included among the saints. Far from being ideals of holiness, courage and piety they are revealed as men who have feet of clay, who put their own safety before their loyalty to Jesus and who flee at the first sign of danger. They have said that they would die with Jesus but they cannot even stay awake, let alone accompany him on the journey to the cross.

Betrayal, abandonment and even opposition are the tools that God uses to turn arrest, false accusations, torture and death into something extraordinary and marvelous – Jesus’ resurrection, the defeat of death. Even though by human standards the disciples have failed not only as disciples but also as friends, they are not censured, punished or rejected. After the resurrection, it is as if God had not even noticed their cowardice, their desire for self-preservation and their failure to keep their word. Instead of condemning them for their lack of loyalty and their abandonment of Jesus, God not only restores and elevates them and gives to them the task of taking up what Jesus has been forced to leave off – preaching the good news of the kingdom.

As God overlooked the flaws and inadequacies of the disciples so too God will overlook our weaknesses, our lack of self-confidence and our tentative efforts to serve.

Though we lose faith in God, God will never lose faith in us, but will raise us up time and time again so that we too will have our place in God’s on-going story.

 

[1] Liturgy News is a publication of the Roman Catholic of Brisbane.

[2] I am indebted to Judith Jones whose commentary on the gospel was challenging and insightful. http://www.workingpreacher.or

Standing out from the crowd

April 12, 2014

Palm Sunday – 2014

Matthew 26:14-27:66

Marian Free

In the name of God who challenges us to discern right from wrong and to have the courage to stand out from the crowd. Amen.

Anyone who has ever been to a concert or a sporting match knows that it does not take long to snap into sync with the crowd. Being part of a group can be extraordinarily compelling and energising. The sense of sharing a common interest holds together people who are very different from each other and causes them behave as one.

Crowds are notoriously difficult to control – in part because of this sense of unity and in part because as a result, they take on a life of their own. In many instances – especially in the case of spontaneously formed crowds – the group morphs into a self-organizing system. There is no need for central control – the common purpose holds them together. In the case of a sporting event or concert, there is no one with a megaphone saying “now!” Everyone simply cheers (or boos) together. They know instinctively how to behave. They are absorbed into the behaviour of the crowd and act as one. Even when a crowd has a leader, a crowd mentality can take over making the leader powerless – for example, surging forward despite being urged to stop or rioting when the intention was a peaceful protest.

Crowds can be sinister or positive. It is easier to be brave (or foolish) when you know that you are acting in a manner that is consistent with those around you. Being part of a group creates a feeling of solidarity, a feeling of empowerment, a belief that the many can make a greater difference than one. Being part of a crowd can be also liberating and disinhibiting. The sense of anonymity, the adrenaline rush provided by being in a crowd can provide just the excuse for someone to behave in a lawless manner, when at other times public opinion (or their own conscience) would prevent them from doing the same thing.

A crowd can work together for good – changing an unjust government or law or cleaning up after a natural disaster. But a crowd can just as easily work for bad. Crowds can turn ugly in a moment. The same mentality that had a group protesting peacefully can be turned into the opposite by the action of a few. Crowds can determine the fate of a nation, but they can just as easily decide the fate of an individual.

It can be difficult to hold one’s position, to be the person standing out from the crowd, the one shouting: “stop!”, when everyone else is shouting: “go!” Only truly courageous people have the courage to act unilaterally – to go against the flow, to stand up for a principle or ideal when no one else can yet see the need.

It is not surprising that crowds were drawn to Jesus’ arrival in Jerusalem. That he was on a donkey was calculated to attract attention. According to Zechariah, this was how the promised King would arrive. No doubt some people noticed and, thinking the prophecy fulfilled began to gather and cheer. Soon others would have joined. As the excitement built, more and more people would have wanted to be part of the excitement (perhaps so they could tell their grandchildren that they had been there). It is not surprising that the Romans and the leaders of the Jews were anxious – they knew from bitter experience how little it took for a crowd to become a riot.

It is not surprising that after Jesus’ arrest, the crowds gathered to see what would happen next. Many would have been wondering who Jesus really was and whether – if he were the King – he would find a way out of the predicament in which he found himself. Moreover, for those who have little to look forward to, a trial breaks the monotony of everyday life. It has the potential to create drama and intrigue and the outcome is never certain. Once a crowd had gathered, it could be easily manipulated. The chief priest (or others) would not have found it too difficult to incite the crowd to shout: “Barabbas” or “crucify him!” Those who did not want to join in would have found it hard to remain silent.

Because we know the story, it is easy to believe that we would have behaved differently, that we would have resisted the pressure of the crowd, and that – heedless of the consequences – we would have taken a stand to prevent an innocent person condemned to death. However, there is no reason to believe that we would have behaved any differently, that, in the circumstances we would have found the courage to stand-alone against a crowd.

Let us hope that we will not be put to the test and that if we are, we will not be found wanting.