Palm Sunday

Palm Sunday

It’s Palm Sunday.  A day commemorated by Christians across the globe that marks Jesus’s entrance into Jerusalem before thing go bad.  This year, most churches will not be occupied, so there is a distinct lack of palm leaves this year in church going houses across the nation. 

When I was a kid, I enjoyed getting palm leaves on the way out of the church service down at the First Baptist Church of Wildwood.  It also meant that Easter was right around the corner.  Easter is a bit of a disappointment for kids.  Don’t get me wrong, candy is nice—but Christmas is better.  Let’s face facts, wax chocolate sucks—especially in bunny or egg forms. 

Easter, coming up next weekend, is—for believers—what it’s all about.  The resurrection.  This is the largest tenant of the Christian faith—the sacrifice for sin, the death, and the resurrection of Jesus Christ.  Christ’s victory over sin, over death, for you and for me, and—if you believe that, then you to will share in that victory, too.  This is what it is.  The biggest tenant of one of the three biggest religions in the world. 

Some of the faithful, instead of calling it Easter, call it Resurrection Day.  Some of the faithful call this Resurrection Week, starting today.  Today, however, is Palm Sunday.  As per a quick look at Wikipedia, “Palm Sunday is a Christian moveable feast that falls on the Sunday before Easter. The feast commemorates Jesus' triumphal entry into Jerusalem, an event mentioned in each of the four canonical Gospels.”  It may be identified as a “moveable feast” but there are no decent feasts that I am aware of surrounding it.  None that I have ever taken part in, mind you.  The best you can hope for are a substandard pastry called, “Hot Crossed Buns”.  No, you’re going to have to wait until next Sunday for the spiral ham with all the trimmings.  THAT’s a feast.  Before the feast, children wake up Easter morning to see what the Easter Bunny has left them in their baskets.  This is one of the more ridiculous aspects of this whole thing.  I suppose someone wanted to exploit a religious remembrance to make a profit.  He was probably a chocolatier. 

I blame you Willy Wonka! 

Of course, I’d be wrong.  As it turns out (as per a little internet sleuthing, https://time.com/3767518/easter-bunny-origins-history/) the Easter Bunny is, probably, a Germanic tradition about an egg bearing hare that leaves eggs in a nest, called an, “Osterhase” or Easter Hare.  Behold the research…

“According to some sources, the Easter bunny first arrived in America in the 1700s with German immigrants who settled in Pennsylvania and transported their tradition of an egg-laying hare called “Osterhase” or “Oschter Haws.” Their children made nests in which this creature could lay its colored eggs. Eventually, the custom spread across the U.S. and the fabled rabbit’s Easter morning deliveries expanded to include chocolate and other types of candy and gifts, while decorated baskets replaced nests. Additionally, children often left out carrots for the bunny in case he got hungry from all his hopping.”

So, there you have it.  The Easter Bunny is a pagan.  Perhaps he is a Christian Pagan?  It could happen—this is, after all, the age of grace and I don’t know what the Osterhase takes on faith.

But I’m getting far ahead of myself.  This is Palm Sunday—Easter’s precursor.  The same people who welcomed Jesus into Jerusalem will be the same people who scream for his blood, come Friday.  And they’ll get it.  Who killed Jesus?  We did.  Humanity.    

We haven’t really changed at all, have we?  We rail against so many things, we set up our barricades, our preconceived notions, our confirmation biases, circle the wagons, come hell or high water to be ‘right’, to be on the side of the argument that justifies our own conclusions.  Blind to the fact that we may be miscarrying the truth, justice, or subverting the basic reality of any given situation for our own gain.

“Give us Barabbas!” We’ll be shouting come Friday.  And we’ll get him.  Thanks to our confirmation bias we are completely oblivious to the fact that we are about to crucify the truth.

Fortunately, there will be ham come next Sunday.

Selah.