Homily: A Strange Day

Deacon Tony Cecil Homily: Palm Sunday of the Lord’s Passion—At the Procession with Palms 13/14 April 2019 Epiphany Catholic Church—Louisville, Kentucky

To put it quite simply—today is…strange.

There’s a part of me that just doesn’t understand it.

Today, within the span of just a few minutes—we hear and we experience an entire week of the Lord’s life—and it can be strange.

Because we experienced the joy that we heard of in the Gospel outside—we processed with our palms into this sacred space, we sing songs of glory, and we re-lived the excitement that the people had when they saw the Savior triumphantly enter the Holy City, and we can understand—even if only a little bit—the thrill of that moment in history.

But in just a few minutes—for Jesus, just a few days—those shouts of triumph, those cries of joy, become screams of fury. The radiant smiles on the faces of the people become scowls of anger as they shout, Crucify Him! and demand that a known murder be released instead of him.

And so here we are on this day—a day of both joy and sorrow—a day of triumph and seeming defeat—a day that is indeed—strange.

And this day becomes—it is—a part of our journey.

For nearly forty days now, we as a people of faith have been on a journey—a journey of fasting, and of prayer, and of giving alms. We have had the goal, as a parish, to notice God’s presence on that journey.

And now, today, we begin the final stretch.

And beginning today, noticing God becomes much easier, because the final stretch of our journey joins Christ’s journey.

Beginning today, throughout this week, we will walk alongside him as he makes his way from the triumph of entering Jerusalem all the way to his final breath given on the Cross on Calvary Hill.

And on this day, in this week—we see something marvelous—we see something beautiful.

On this strange day—this day where there is the mountaintop experience of joy followed by the pain of the lowest valley—we see that God truly is present in our lives and on our journey.

We see that God is there in the greatest moments of joy that we could ever possibly experience.

We see that God is there in the depths of human pain and suffering and sorrow.

We see that there is nothing we experience that God Himself has not experienced.

And we see that what he promised his disciples is true—that they, that we, are never alone.

That in our greatest joys—God is there.

In our most triumphant success—God is there.

In our deepest sorrow—God is there.

In our most profound suffering—God is there.

God is there, silently watching—God is there with an ear to our prayers—God is there, helping things fall into place when we never believed that they would—God is there to somehow make sense of things that we could never find meaning in on our own—God there, drawing us closer to beat of his sacred heart, bringing us comfort.

God is there, and so today, on this strange day—in the midst of the sorrows of our lives, in the shadow of the sorrow of the Cross that we will hear soon—we rejoice.

We rejoice because we know that our God is always there—we rejoice because we know that God is here—in this sacred place—we rejoice because we know that his final breath on the Cross is not the end of the story—we rejoice because we know what is coming—we rejoice because soon, bread and wine will become his very presence, and we will know and we will see that what he said is true—that we are never alone.

Today is indeed strange.

And there’s still a part of me that doesn’t completely understand it.

Yet—in that mystery—there is comfort.

May journeying with Christ this week bring our hearts the comfort they so desperately desire.

To view the readings for Palm Sunday, please click here.