While listening to our Pastor proclaim the Gospel as we watched our Parish’s Palm Sunday Mass on YouTube, my 12-year-old asked, “But wait–why are we reading about the crucifixion and death now. Isn’t that what happens on Good Friday?”
Yes. Yes, it is. Palm Sunday begins with Jesus’ Triumphant Entrance into Jerusalem as the crowds sing “Hosanna in the Highest” and wave their palm branches. And then we are plunged into the solemness of Holy Week.
That tension from the highest of highs to the lowest of lows is stark… it’s uncomfortable… and it’s exactly the point.
In light of the pandemic, take a moment to reflect on your experience of this stark contrast in your own life. Think back to February or early March… recall the events, activities, travels, and celebrations that you had on your calendar.
What were you looking forward to with joyful anticipation?
Think of the disciples watching the One they know to be the Messiah and Son of God entering the Holy City of Jerusalem surrounded by glory and praise… and within days, he is arrested and crucified.
Before stepping more deeply in to the Passion, realize that having joyful anticipationabruptly cut down—that very sense of disappointment—is a crucial part of our Palm Sunday liturgy. We are all feeling it; we have all felt it, including Jesus and his disciples.
Allow this jarring experience and sense of profound disappointment to be an entry point into the Passion as we begin Holy Week.
We have all sat through bad homilies. Too many of them. Too often.
In “Connecting Sermons to Life,” Margery Eagan is spot-on in her criticism of the disconnect between what’s happening in the world and most priests’ homilies at mass. Between ISIS, Ebola, air strikes in Iraq, climate change, Israel, Gaza, Ukraine, Ferguson, and the NFL’s mess with domestic violence, there’s a lot going on in the world. The Church needs to help Christians process all of this from a faith perspective.
It matters when a priest acknowledges the overload of worldwide suffering, then reminds us that light always emerges from the darkness.
I could not agree more with this part of Eagan’s criticism.
However, Eagan stepped over a liturgical line by concluding that bad homilies mean that Mass is a “big bust.”
Uninspiring Sunday sermons, described as “boring,” “irrelevant,” and “poorly prepared” [are a big reason why many Catholics no longer go to Church]. In other words, the Mass — the main contact many Catholics have with their faith — was a big bust.
Think about the best teacher, leader, or boss you’ve ever worked with. Who was it? What was it that made them such a good leader? On the flip-side, think about that experience with someone who was a rather poor leader, teacher, or boss? What were the characteristics or behaviors that made it so?
A few months ago, I was preparing to teach two separate groups of people two distinct lessons: during the day, a Godly Play session on “The Good Shepherd” for 3-6 year olds at my kids’ Montessori school and later that night, a Catechism class for adults on the Sacraments. What I thought were two different lessons turned out to be an opportunity to gain a deeper insight by looking at them together.
The Good Shepherd
The Good Shepherd story from Godly Play weaves several Scripture passages into one story, primarily from Psalm 23, John 10:1-16, and the Parable of the Lost Sheep (Matthew 18:12-14, Luke 15:1-7).
The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures; he leads me beside still waters; he restores my soul. He leads me in right paths for his name’s sake. Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil; for you are with me; your rod and your staff— they comfort me. (Psalm 23:1-4)
“Which one of you, having a hundred sheep and losing one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the one that is lost until he finds it? When he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders and rejoices. And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and neighbors, saying to them, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost.’ Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance. (Luke 15:4-7)
‘I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. The hired hand, who is not the shepherd and does not own the sheep, sees the wolf coming and leaves the sheep and runs away—and the wolf snatches them and scatters them. The hired hand runs away because a hired hand does not care for the sheep. (John 10:11-13)
The words and materials used to tell the story of the Good Shepherd are very intentional, but not identical to the translation we may be used to hearing at Mass or reading in the Bible. Therein, they communicate the underlying truth to children in a remarkable way. The Good Shepherd loves, cares for, and leads his sheep. He protects them and looks for them when they are lost.
The storyteller explains the Good Shepherd’s relationship with his sheep, and then introduces “the ordinary shepherd” who neither knows their names nor leads them. Instead, the sheep wander and scatter. The story concludes by driving home the distinction between the Good Shepherd and the ordinary shepherd:
When the wolf comes, the ordinary shepherd runs away. But the Good Shepherd stands between the wolf and his sheep–and even gives his life for his sheep–so the sheep can go safely home.
When the children–ages 3-6–first began discussing the story, I noticed that they kept talking about the Good Shepherd and the bad shepherd. Had I been listening alongside, I may have made the same mistake.
But that’s the thing: the “wolf” is the bad guy in the story. It is the ordinary shepherd that Jesus distinguishes himself from.
Sacraments
Later that night I taught my Catechism for Adults class, covering the chapter on Liturgy which sets the stage for talking about Sacraments; after all, every Sacrament occurs within a liturgy. It is not just the gestures and substance which make for the Sacrament; it is also the prayers we say and the Word of God we read in Scripture that makes it a real gift of God’s grace.
The word liturgy comes from a Greek term meaning “public work or work done on behalf of the people.” Liturgy always referred to an organized community. A work, then, done by an individual or a group was a liturgy on behalf of the larger community. All the worshipers are expected to participate actively in each liturgy, for this is holy “work,” not entertainment or a spectator event. Every liturgical celebration is an action of Christ the High Priest and of his Mystical Body, which is the Church. It therefore requires the participation of the People of God in the work of God.
United States Conference of Catholic Bishops (USCCB) (2012-04-02). United States Catholic Catechism for Adults (Kindle Locations 2570-2574). United States Conference of Catholic Bishops (USCCB). Kindle Edition.
When it comes to celebrating the Sacraments, one of the most basic questions that we need to answer is Who celebrates the liturgy. Unfortunately, we usually get the answer wrong by saying “the priest.” Who celebrates the liturgy? We all do. The entire Body of Christ.
Liturgy is not private prayer, but public, requiring “full, conscious and active participation” of all faithful (CCC 1141, SC 14).
The idea that all of us are expected to participate actively in each liturgy, and that this is holy “work,” not entertainment or a spectator event is a vital understanding to bring to any study of both the Liturgy and the Sacraments.
Too often, we approach Mass as a spectator sport. And it’s not.
We judge the value of the liturgy by the quality of the homily and/or the music. And we miss the point.
Moreover, when we translate that “spectator sport” mentality into the Sacraments, we set ourselves up to treat Sacramental grace like some sort of magic to befall instead of the gift of God’s grace that they are.
A lot of these attitudes have to do with our expectations of leadership.
Leadership
Recall the questions above: think about the experiences you have had throughout your life with leaders: teachers, bosses, managers, and the like. Think about the characteristics and qualities of good leaders. Good leaders…
Take the time, effort, and energy to teach and empower people
Encourage creativity
Appreciate individual strengths
Facilitate growth
Allow people to make mistakes and learn from them
Practice good communication skills, both in expressing themselves and in understanding others
Care about their people
Value responsibility, honesty, integrity, and hard work
Offer assistance when needed
Create atmospheres of mutual respect
Approaches leadership as form of service [servant-leader]
Has a big-picture sense of mission and vision
Can you add to this list?
On the flip side, we find it easy to complain about “poor” leaders:
Micro-manage every aspect of people’s work
Overly strict
Diminish freedom and creativity
Make people feel small and insignificant – like a replaceable cog in the wheel
Control others through fear or manipulation
Non-communicative
Self-centered, arrogant, and egotistical
Narrow-Minded
Can you add to this list?
Notice this list describes the “poor” leader. Not the “bad” leaders with malicious intent or “evil” dictators.
Take it to the next step. Recall the description of the Good Shepherd; see how the list of characteristics of the Good Leader help flesh out the way in which Jesus as the Good Shepherd leads us.
Now look at the description of the poor leader and notice how it reflects the ordinary shepherd.
The Connection
When it comes to our understanding of Liturgy and Sacraments, it is very important that we check in with our expectations: Do we expect the priest to micromanage our experience of Liturgy and Sacraments, making it happen for us? Or do we enter into the experience of Liturgy and Sacraments expecting the leadership of the Good Shepherd who empowers us to participate in receiving God’s grace?
The Sacraments are not magical things that happen to us.
One way to think about the empowering leadership of the Good Shepherd is to think of the Sacraments with what’s been called a bumper-sticker theology:
Without us, God won’t. Without God, we can’t. Without us, God won’t
Jesus is the Good Shepherd. He does not micromanage our experience of faith. He invites us to participate with him in the transforming power of God’s grace.
Without God, we can’t. We need God’s grace. We cannot do it without God’s help.
The Good Shepherd wants to lead you. But to really make it work, you’ve got to want it too.
