A Devotion for Beneath the Palms
John 18: 33-37
We are people of the after.
This Sunday, we will celebrate Palm Sunday. On this Sunday, we mark the day that Jesus enters Jerusalem. He travels on a donkey to the Holy city to celebrate Passover.
He will enter the city to cries of “Hosanna!” and be heralded and celebrated as King.
Palm Sunday is a watershed moment; Jesus enters Jerusalem and it seems like the people and Jesus are saying the same thing, but five days later they end up in very different places.
By the time Friday comes, something will have changed, and the entire trajectory of history will shift. And that’s the scene we read in the second passage of John. Jesus is taken to Pilate to be judged. And he is found guilty.
Up until this point, there is one reality, and after, there is another reality entirely.
I think that’s something that we can all relate to, even in our own life stories. We might not have the experience of our entire identity being announced as we enter a city triumphantly and later judged in a courtroom, like Jesus does, but I think we can all think of moments where in an *instant* everything is changed.
Those moments when something fundamentally changes, where there is a definable identity shift, and concrete before and after –
maybe an engaged couple before they are pronounced married;
or a pregnant woman, before she gives birth.
Or for many of us and the people we serve – a before the storm and an after.
A watershed moment, some call it, where our identity is one thing, and then it is another.
Of course, these life-changing moments, where things fundamentally change, seem to happen in an instant, but we all know, usually have weeks and months and years of circumstance that led up to them.
The people we serve, and even our own lives – they aren’t just about one moment.
Our stories are years in the making.
Jesus’ entire life has led up to this, his identity, his ministry, his work – they all come to a head during what we call Holy Week – the days between Palm Sunday and Easter.
What does Jesus proclaim in this watershed moment that he finds himself before Pilate?
It’s understandable, that when we face times of transition, of life -altering events – that we have the inclination to turn away, to pray that the events not happen, to deny that anything has changed.
But that day in Pilate’s court, and the days that follow – Jesus doesn’t deny, he doesn’t act like nothing has changed, or will soon change.
Rather, he leans into this new reality – the identity as the of the King of Jews – a title that Pilate and the crowds use ironically, as an insult, full of scorn and hatred. To this Jesus replies:
“You say that I am a king. For this I was born, and for this I came into the world."
Here, Jesus is leaning into the after. He has been through moments of doubt and betrayal, at the Last Supper and in the Garden.
Here, before the powers that be, he claims for himself the after.
Jesus leans into what comes after everything he has known.
And as he does, he gives us the same power to be “after” people.
After the storm, after the divorce, after his death, or her death.
After the job loss, or after the heartbreak.
For Jesus, the “after” is death, but it is ultimately resurrection.
And we will get there, next week as we travel through Holy Week.
We can survive these watershed moments. They are not without grief or pain or transformation.
But they are not the end of our story.
Up until this point, there is one reality, and after, there is another reality entirely.
I think that’s something that we can all relate to, even in our own life stories. We might not have the experience of our entire identity being announced as we enter a city triumphantly and later judged in a courtroom, like Jesus does, but I think we can all think of moments where in an *instant* everything is changed.
Those moments when something fundamentally changes, where there is a definable identity shift, and concrete before and after –
maybe an engaged couple before they are pronounced married;
or a pregnant woman, before she gives birth.
Or for many of us and the people we serve – a before the storm and an after.
A watershed moment, some call it, where our identity is one thing, and then it is another.
Of course, these life-changing moments, where things fundamentally change, seem to happen in an instant, but we all know, usually have weeks and months and years of circumstance that led up to them.
The people we serve, and even our own lives – they aren’t just about one moment.
Our stories are years in the making.
Jesus’ entire life has led up to this, his identity, his ministry, his work – they all come to a head during what we call Holy Week – the days between Palm Sunday and Easter.
What does Jesus proclaim in this watershed moment that he finds himself before Pilate?
It’s understandable, that when we face times of transition, of life -altering events – that we have the inclination to turn away, to pray that the events not happen, to deny that anything has changed.
But that day in Pilate’s court, and the days that follow – Jesus doesn’t deny, he doesn’t act like nothing has changed, or will soon change.
Rather, he leans into this new reality – the identity as the of the King of Jews – a title that Pilate and the crowds use ironically, as an insult, full of scorn and hatred. To this Jesus replies:
“You say that I am a king. For this I was born, and for this I came into the world."
Here, Jesus is leaning into the after. He has been through moments of doubt and betrayal, at the Last Supper and in the Garden.
Here, before the powers that be, he claims for himself the after.
Jesus leans into what comes after everything he has known.
And as he does, he gives us the same power to be “after” people.
After the storm, after the divorce, after his death, or her death.
After the job loss, or after the heartbreak.
For Jesus, the “after” is death, but it is ultimately resurrection.
And we will get there, next week as we travel through Holy Week.
We can survive these watershed moments. They are not without grief or pain or transformation.
But they are not the end of our story.
What is your after?
With you on the journey,
Chaplain Amy
With you on the journey,
Chaplain Amy
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