And so it begins.

And so it begins.

We have waited six weeks for this Sunday. Made our penitential way through Lent. And here it is. Palm Sunday. A mix of celebration and bravado, thumbing our noses at the Roman overlords, their temple priestly puppets, and their successors today. A small parade of entry and hopes fulfilled. Now is the time!

But now is not the time. A shadow is cast across this party. We now know where all this leads, unlike those first paraders. Just ahead are days filled with angst, fear, trembling despair and numbing grief. Both stories belong to today, and are often repeated today.

Like the gospel writers, we sit on the other side of all this. We have space to try and make sense of it all in light of our own experience and our reading of scripture.

And yet these events are still asking us questions. On the cross those first palm wavers and cloak layers lost all they hoped for and had faith in. All they understood of God and the future died as Jesus the Christ hung dying on a cross. All that had led to their involvement in this crazy action was declared meaningless.

And so it begins.

Which of our hopes and faith will hang from a cross this week? What of ours is being declared meaningless?

The temptation is to avoid all this unpleasantness. To simply rush forward and wave palms all the way to Sunday. But we are not there yet. We have only just begun. Fridays shadow is cast over us, and we are still to make our way through those events. As we hear the gospel, and we join with them in making sense of it all, what gift do we find?