Palm Sunday
After High School, I spent six months in Africa. While I was in Uganda, one of the things that always struck me was that when you went to a person's house, they would invite you in by saying, "You're welcome." Immediately, I would think, was I supposed to say "Thank you"? Of course, they meant, "You are welcome to be our guest" or "You are welcome to come in." Reflecting on this simple encounter, it shows that when a friend knocks on the door, there is a reciprocal exchange of thanksgiving (on the part of the one knocking) and an openness to receive the other in love (on the part of the one opening the door.
In the Palm Sunday blessing of the palms and procession, we are presented with an image of this encounter between the divine and humanity. There is an ancient custom of a procession with palm branches joining us to the triumphal entry of Christ into the city of Jerusalem. In the medieval era, a custom began where the procession would stop at the doors of the church, now closed. While the people sing a song of honor to Christ our King (All Glory Laud and Honor is the traditional Anglican hymn), the priest would take the processional cross and knock on the door. The door is then opened to the people who follow the clergy into the church, and the service begins.
Though a small action, this gesture of knocking on the door is heavy in symbolism. As Dom Prosper Gueranger, commenting on the liturgy, notes, "This ceremony is intended to represent the entry of Jesus into that Jerusalem, of which the earthly one was but the figure, the Jerusalem of heaven, which has been opened for us by our Savior. The sin of our first parents had shut it against us, but Jesus, the King of Glory, opened its gates by his Cross, to which every resistance yields. Let us then continue to follow in the footsteps of the Son of David for he is also the Son of God and he invites us to share his Kingdom with him." Adding another layer of symbolism, I would go one step further and reflect on Revelation 3:20, where Christ says, "Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me." In the knocking on the church door, the reciprocal nature is displayed by in thanksgiving, we join ourselves to the work of Christ who opens the door to the heavenly Jerusalem to us; but also, as he knocks, we open our hearts to Christ that we might come and sup with him in the heavenly banquet, made present in the sacraments.
The divine hospitality we receive in Holy Communion extends throughout our lives to those who come to our houses. In the Rule of St. Benedict, regarding those who come to the monastery as a guest, it says, "All guests who present themselves are to be welcomed as Christ, for he himself will say: 'I was a stranger and you welcomed me.'" If this is how we should welcome the stranger, so too should we welcome those we love. All who knock on your door with an attitude of thanksgiving should be welcomed with a loving openness, as though they are Christ himself.
This Sunday, for Palm Sunday, weather permitting, we will begin our service outside to bless the palms, hand them out, and process into the church singing "All Glory, Laud, and Honor." When we stop at the closed door, I will knock with the processional cross (don't worry, there is a rubber stopper on the bottom to not mark the door), and we shall enter the church. As we enter, reflect upon the work of Christ won for us as he ushers us into his Kingdom and his presence in the Mass. Let this Holy Week lead you further into the mystery of Christ's work as he invites us to sit and sup with him on Maundy Thursday (Maundy, coming from Christ's mandate to "love on another"), join him as he defeats sin and death and knocks on the door with his victorious cross on Good Friday, and be raised up with him to enter into the Heavenly Jerusalem on Holy Saturday at the Vigil.
All glory to our God and King,
Fr. Aaron