Aftermath
Note: I will be writing each day about some aspect of Holy week, according to the Scriptural references that record Jesus’ days. I will not interpret Jesus’s thoughts and actions but will instead take the point of view of an observer to these singular events, puzzling, wondering and discovering insights that may illuminate our own journey through Holy Week.
Today’s scripture is Matthew 21:12-22: (Jerusalem Bible)
Jesus then went into the Temple and drove out all those who were selling and buying there; he upset the tables of the money changers and the chairs of those who were selling pigeons. ‘According to scripture, he said, ‘my house it is turning into a robbers’ den’. There were also blind and lame people who came to him in the Temple, and he cured them. At the sight of the wonderful things he did and of the children shouting, Hosanna to the Son of David in the Temple, the chief priest and the scribes were indignant. ‘Do you hear what they are saying?’ they said to him. ‘Yes, Jesus answered, ‘have you never read this: ‘By the mouths of children, babes in arms, you have made sure of praise.’ With that he left them and went out of the city to Bethany where he spent the night.
It was early on the morning of January 1- New Year’s Day- and I walked down the hallway to start my coffee. I needed a little jolt of caffeine before I dove into the big task of the morning: cleaning up after last night’s party. We often hosted a casual get-together for friends and family who, like us were not interested in fancy dances or cocktail parties. We spent our evening playing games- Bunco, Crazy 8s- 42-Trivia and enjoying way too many snacks. Long about 11:30 we turned on the TV and got ready for the big countdown. Once the ball had dropped, it was time for a bowl of Hoppin’ John and cornbread– We Texans need a taste of good-luck black-eyed peas on New Year’s Day! With a toast and a prayer, we welcomed the start of another year. Our guests piled in their cars, we turned off the lights and headed for bed.
But that was yesterday. Today, I was faced with piles of dishes and bags of trash. The house was strewn with reminders of our celebration: a glass of soda; a half-full pot of cold coffee; dots of confetti and paper streamers on the floor. Draped over a chair was someone’s scarf I set aside to return. On the kitchen table were scattered dominoes and a 42 tally sheet. As I straightened and cleaned and tossed and washed, I recalled the laughter and joy that spread among us. I cleaned up the aftermath of the celebration and reality set in. Black-eyed peas did not actually guarantee a prosperous, healthy year. The cares of the past year had been suspended for a few hours and it had been good to pause and celebrate. My face glowed with the memories of last night’s sights and sounds. I focused on the feelings of joy and friendship. I didn’t spend too much time wondering what the New Year would bring.
On this day after the joyous Palm Sunday entry, my mind pictures the streets of Jerusalem in the aftermath of the parade. The streets were littered with palm fronds, quickly drying in the hot sun. There were a few remnants of food on the ground, and the dirt streets still bore footprints of bare-footed children and sandaled adults. Here and there were the prints of a small donkey’s hooves. Someone’s cloak was wrinkled up by the side of the road. He would be looking for it later in the day no doubt. The streets were much quieter than yesterday, filled not with shouts of praise but the sounds of people chatting and sharing rumors as they worked, sweeping away palm fronds, folding that cloak, reliving that mysteriously joyful day. Life was returning to the normal, and the memory of an impromptu parade was already fading in the minds of some.
Perhaps one of those rumors was about the goings on at the Temple, and my imagination shifts to a scene with overturned tables and birds fluttering free of their cages. There are blind and lame people among the crowd surrounding Jesus. Could they have been a part of a palm-waving crowd just a few hours ago? Healing and Hosannas abound, and the sounds echo those of yesterday’s parade. There is an unspoken tension in in the air and anger on the faces of some religious leaders nearby.
It is tempting to jump into explanations about Jesus’ actions in the Temple that day. There are many interpretations and many valuable life lessons to be gleaned there. Instead, I linger on the palm-strewn street where a celebration heralded the end of Jesus’ earthly days and the beginning of His eternal ones. That was a time set aside for celebration and praise, and we do well not to rush off into the future. In the dust and debris, the aftermath, we pause a while, we ready ourselves for the days ahead, as much as we can in our limited understanding. We participate in praise while it is before us. Today, we linger a while in the afterglow of that miraculous day. We walk towards the Temple carrying trust and confusion mingled together. Faith was ever thus.
This tile reminds me of what the streets of Jerusalem might have looked like the day after Palm Sunday. There are a few green fronds on the ground, and bare patches show the wear of many feet. The brown dirt verges are not neatly mown and manicured but are uneven piles of earth. There is no need to smooth them out. They have their own rocky beauty. The sky is a deep shade of blue that portend a storm is on the way.
Imagine yourself as someone who watched the Triumphal Entry, and now returned to clean and clear up the aftermath. How could you still see Jesus’ presence as you walk those streets, one day later?
O God, thank you for opportunities to praise, and for time to reflect on those joyous experiences. In the aftermath, guide our hands and honor our confusion. Fill us with praise. Amen.
