Sunday, April 14, 2019
From Luke 22
Jesus took a cup, gave thanks, and said, "Take this and share it among yourselves.”
The sun shines bright on the windows of our home, birds sing and frolic in the air. Cherry blossoms about to bloom, daffodils bowing in the breeze, as tulips rise up again from their winter rest. At the parade today, we’ll wave palms and shout hosanna. Welcome, Jesus!
Grab your coat
Grab your hat, baby
Leave your worries on the doorstep
Just direct your feet
On the sunny side of the street
Rarely do we celebrate. The Romans carry swords, and look so angry. But this morning joy seems to fill the streets.
Jesus’ disciples, they don’t quite know what to do. They must want not to make a scene, keep Jesus under wraps, protect him from arrest. But does he care? Doesn’t seem like it. He’s riding on a donkey, waving, smiling, talking to the children who scatter all around him. Jesus loves the little children of the world. “Peace on earth and glory in the highest!”
We can feel God’s arms surround us. We’re all his children, sheep of his pasture, no one gets left out. This is the day that the Lord has made, and God’s family tree includes us all.
The Romans are coming, the Romans are coming! Can’t you quiet all this down? Jesus laughs in his infectious joy, “Of course not! Even the rocks are crying out.” Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!
Passover is coming. In the evening, Jesus will pass around the bread and wine. Take this and share it among yourselves. “This cup is the new covenant in my blood, and it will be shed for you.” Prepare for our second parade, this one to Golgotha.
Not now, not yet. Not sitting in the morning sun, not while all of us rejoice, not while the light shines bright. The bridegroom is here, and the wedding feast is ready. We must celebrate today. God is good! All the time! We know that our redeemer lives.
Wait for it. There is no hurry to get to tomorrow. It will get here on its own.
These stories we tell each other about your life, we share them with love, with laughter, pain and grief. I watch your sweet surrender, Lord, at first to hugs and kisses, later to the jailer’s whip. Never ever leave us, Lord. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Can we capture now for always?
Jimmy McHugh and Dorothy Fields, “On the Sunny Side of the Street,” 1930