Homily

Today begins Holy Week, the week of the Passion. It is holy because the Lord is at its centre. It is of the Passion because we contemplate Jesus full of passion and rich in mercy. The apostle Paul writes to the Philippians: he “humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death – even death on a cross.” How can we remain neutral in front of what we will see? Jesus’ passion, like the weakness and the pain of men and women, is not a spectacle to watch with detachment. It is unfortunately easy to hang back as spectators, worried only about not getting directly involved or perhaps feeling pity but still remaining far off. Jesus’ passion is the passion of love. It reveals our coldness and the pettiness of the many small and crooked passions that stir our hearts. Jesus does not change us with a law, but with a great love. Why is Jesus condemned? We could list various reasons: because people prefer the sacrifices prescribed by the law to mercy; because of the annoyance and the fear felt in front of limitless love; because of the malice of the shrewd; because of the idolatry of money; because of the distrust felt by the righteous; because of the habits and the traditions of our love for ourselves that are even stronger than our humanity. Truly Jesus is the man we need to defend, protect, and love. It is not enough to do no evil, to have clean hands, and not to decide; we have to love this man. Those who do not choose love end up complicit in evil.
Jesus enters Jerusalem as a king. The people seem to realize this and they spread their cloaks along the road, as was the custom in the East when the sovereign passed by. In the second book of Kings we read that in order to celebrate the election of Jehu as the king of Israel, “they all took their cloaks and spread them for him on the bare steps” (9:13). Green olive branches taken from the fields and spread along Jesus’ path add to the carpet. The cry of “Hosanna” (which means “help” in Hebrew) expresses the need for salvation and help felt by the people. The Saviour had finally arrived. Jesus enters into Jerusalem, and into our cities of today, as the only one who can draw us out of our slavery and allow us to take part in a more human life with greater solidarity. But his face is not the face of someone powerful or strong; it is the face of a meek and humble man.
Only six days after that triumphal entrance his face will become the face of a crucified man. The paradox of Palm Sunday is that it has us live through the triumph and the passion of Jesus together. By having us read the Gospel of the Passion after the entrance into Jerusalem – as if to underline how short the distance is between “Hosanna” and “Crucify!” – the liturgy immediately shows this face as it becomes a crucified face. Jesus’ entrance into the holy city is certainly the entrance of a king, but the only crown that will be placed on his head in the coming days is the crown of thorns. His sceptre is a reed, and his uniform is a mocking scarlet robe. The olive branches that are part of the festivities today will see him sweat blood in the anguish of death a few days from now in the garden where he withdraws to pray.
Jesus does not flee. He takes his cross and carries it with him to Golgotha, where he is crucified. Even though that death seemed like a defeat to most people, it was in reality a victory. It was the logical conclusion of a life spent for the Lord. Truly only God could have lived and died like this, that is, forgetting himself in order to give himself totally to others. And the one who notices is a pagan soldier. The evangelist Mark writes, “Now when the centurion, who stood facing him, saw that in this way he breathed his last, he said, ‘Truly this man was God’s Son!’” (Mk 15:39).
Who understands Jesus? The children. They are the ones who welcome him when he enters Jerusalem. “Unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven,” Jesus said. This is what happens to Peter. He weeps like a child when he finally begins to understand himself. We are like him. When Jesus confided in Peter and told him he was going to be put to death, Peter became angry. He wants to win, not lose. This is why he could not accept being weak. Jesus’ choice to be a servant scandalizes a grown man who is convinced of the need for strength, sure that it alone can solve problems, and unwilling to believe in the naivety of love. Peter trusts in his pride. “Even though all become deserters, I will not,” he proclaims to Jesus. Peter thinks he is good. But in reality he falls asleep when Jesus asks him to stay awake just an hour with him: he is hardened, unsatisfied, sad, and listless. In reality he does not know how to pray. He sleeps and leaves Jesus alone. Later he might have been the one to draw the sword, believing that he could defend his friend with violence. Sleep and violence alternate. Peter only wants to save himself. He leaves Jesus alone and ends up alone himself. He betrays love and ends up needing it. He is ashamed of Jesus, a weak man, a defeated man. He is afraid and he denies friendship. These are our betrayals. But in the end, when he sees the consequences of evil, Peter cries. He returns to himself. He remembers and understands; his pride melts and he repents.
During this week let us become real men and women, like Peter. Let us cry like children, asking for forgiveness for our sins. Let us be moved in front of the drama of so many poor “christs” who with their crosses remind us of the suffering and the way of the cross of Jesus. Let us choose not to run away anymore, not to follow from afar, but to be close to Jesus and love him. Let us take the Gospel in hand and accompany Jesus. Let us pray with trust. The olive branch we have in our hands is a sign of peace: it reminds us that the Lord wants peace, he grants us peace. This olive branch will accompany us in our homes to remind us how much God loves us. He is our peace because he has no enemy and does not save himself. Love defeats evil. Do we also want to learn such a love? Do we want to be men and women of peace like Jesus? The passion is a way of joy. Let us walk with Jesus, so that we can rise with him.