Palm Sunday, Year B St.

Aidans Episcopal Church Sunday, April 1, 2012 Gloria, laus et honor tibi sit Rex Christe, Redemptor, Cui puerile decus prompsit hosanna pium. All glory, laud and honor to thee Redeemer, King! to whom the lips of children made sweet hosannas ring. Its a refrain that for many of us reminds us of the Palm Sundays of our lives. For those of us that have made it to church on Palm Sunday for years and years, the memories of processions and song the congregation trailing behind the choir in a way thats both sacred and terrible. For those of us that hear the story of Christs entrance into Jerusalem, astride a donkey, we might imagine our own place in that procession. For those of us who find ourselves in church this morning just because not because its Palm Sunday; not because weve celebrated Palm Sundays for years and years it may be catching us off guard. The procession. The hymns. The readings one set as we raise our palm fronds high; another set that launches us into Holy Week. Its a cloud of confusion. Gloria, laus et honor tibi sit Rex Christe, Redemptor, Cui puerile decus prompsit hosanna pium. All glory, laud and honor to thee Redeemer, King! to whom the lips of children made sweet hosannas ring. The Latin text of this poem All Glory, Laud and Honor was written by Theodulph of Orleans, a theologian, bishop, poet that lived in the 8 th & 9th centuries. The story goes that Theodulph was made Bishop of Orleans by Charlamagne; although, when Charlamagnes son, Louis, became Emperor, he suspected Theodulph of treason and jailed him. Legend has it that Theodulph wrote the text while imprisoned. On a Palm Sunday, while the procession of clergy and royalty passed by his prison window, Theodulph recited this text. The truth of this piece is questionable, but the ancient-ness of this hymn the words, at least is certainly true. Gloria, laus et honor tibi sit Rex Christe, Redemptor, Cui puerile decus prompsit hosanna pium. Heres what happened on Palm Sunday the Palm Sunday we hear about in Marks Gospel. Jesus, as he approaches Jerusalem, sends two disciples ahead of him to retrieve the colt tied to the tree. Its on this

animal a colt that the King of the Jews, the King of Israel, rides into Jerusalem. The people gather a crowd is there. They throw their cloaks in front of this man, dressed in nothing spectacular, riding on a colt of all things and they cry, All glory, laud and honor to thee Redeemer, King! to whom the lips of children made sweet hosannas ring. Somehow, Palm Sunday bring this all together. The sacred & the terrible; the ancient story of Christs entrance into Jerusalem and the present procession of our contemporary bodies; the pomp and circumstance and the ridiculous-ness of the king on a colt. Its all brought together in this day. Lent is coming to an end our desire to be penitent and somber is quickly getting set aside as we prepare for Easter day. We so want to imagine ourselves as part of that crowd gathered and we are part of that crowd gathered. Joyful and triumphant. The mere vision of a humble and graceful king riding to his death on a donkey. Yet the week ahead is filled with betrayal and doubt; conviction and tragedy. Palm Sunday puts us right at that intersection. There are stories of our own lives that fall right at that intersection of joy and triumph and tragedy. You know what they are, those places where joy happens in the midst of tragedy; tragedy in the midst of joy. All glory, laud and honor to thee Redeemer, King! to whom the lips of children made sweet hosannas ring. Whether you find yourself here because you wouldnt be anywhere else on this Sunday so full of ancient ritual and memory; or whether you find yourself here because its your Sunday to be in church; walk. Walk this journey that is rife with paradox and confusion. Walk this journey that is full of joy and tragedy. Walk this journey with the king who humbled himself even to death, singing sweet hosannas as children of the living God.