“And the world came together as the people stayed apart.”

Here is my wife Beth's devotion for our church for Palm Sunday.

“And the world came together as the people stayed apart.”

These words, chalked on the steps of a home in South City, inspire my thoughts about the celebration of Palm Sunday as we remain physically separated from one another in these challenging days.

Every experience and image I associate with Palm Sunday involves close proximity to others, in fact, many others.  As John describes Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem on that day, he paints this picture:

“The next day the great crowd that had come to the festival heard that Jesus was coming to Jerusalem. So they took palm branches and went out to meet him. They shouted, ‘Hosanna! Blessings on the one who comes in the name of the Lord—Blessings on the King of Israel!’ “ (John 12:12-13)

Hymns we sing on this day pull us into a moment of jubilant celebration:

“From Olivet, they followed mid an exultant crowd, the victor palm branch waving, and chanting clear and loud.” (Number 278)

“Filled with excitement, all the happy throng spread cloaks and branches on the city streets… From every corner a thousand voices sing praises to him who comes in the name of God.” (Number 279)

“All glory, laud, and honor, to thee, Redeemer, King, to whom the lips of children made sweet hosannas ring.” (Number 280).

I imagine vast, pressing crowds of people of all ages, craning for a look at Jesus on the donkey.  I see the enthusiastic waving of the palm branches, high above their heads, pulled quickly as flags and beacons of emotion. I hear a deafening din of gleeful cheering and yelling as everyone is caught up in this moment for which they have waited.

In Palm Sunday worship, we typically recreate through word, song, and the waving of palms the story of that triumphal entry.  What is more difficult is to recapture the experience of that day, even when we gather in physical community with each other.  And this year, we do so without the emboldening and encouraging closeness with our fellow congregants.

Those words on the South City steps speak not only to what we are experiencing during a global pandemic; they call us to connection that is deeper and stronger than simple proximity affords. We are often encouraging each other by saying, “We are in this together.”  And we truly are—while the effects of the health crisis vary by geography and individual, no one escapes the impact of these life-altering circumstances.  We are finding new ways to feel the bonds of shared humanity with one another. Together we are mastering ways to use welcome technologies. Simpler joys of human connection have gained value and priority as our lives have become a bit less crowded.

Yesterday I was beckoned to the front yard by a parade of cars and vans honking their horns at families at the edges of sidewalks in our neighborhood.  As Holy Redeemer teachers motored by, waving at their students and families, they received enthusiastic cheers from their flock. What a lift to the spirit for all of us!

While I crave a parade, the feeling of being part of something larger than myself and my own home, the experience of being in the joyful Palm Sunday throng, I know as a Christian, that the Palm Sunday triumphal entry had different meaning for Jesus.  He surely knew the days to come, the isolation he would feel, the experience he alone would suffer on the cross, and the sacrifice he would make for the benefit of the world—those present that day and generations to come.

Dear God, as we celebrate Palm Sunday this year, may we come together with the world to praise Jesus as my King and Savior, knowing that with his sacrifice we are made whole. Strengthen, us dear God, during these days, and keep us safe in our service to each other. Hosanna! Amen.