The donkey couldn’t believe his eyes and ears! “A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. The crowds that went ahead of him and that followed were shouting.” (Matthew 21:8-9) The donkey couldn’t understand their words but sensed that what was happening was something intensely joyful and happy, even euphoric. The donkey was really moved by those people’s expressions of affection, devotion, fondness, respect and love. The longer it continued, the more he strutted through the suburbs of a great city, getting truly full of himself. The poor beast didn’t realise that the entire show wasn’t about him but the one who was riding atop: “the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee.” (Matthew 21:11)
Since the public announcement of the changes in personnel in our parish was made, many of you have commented on my departure. Most of them have been words of your loss, regret and so on – all a bit guilt-inducing in me. I don’t doubt they have all been genuine – there’s nothing to be gained now from this kind of flattery. It would be very easy to fall into the same trap as the donkey on the road from Bethphage to Jerusalem. Although I must admit that I have been truly moved by your expressions of affection and your parting gifts – and I’m extremely grateful – I know in my heart that I am just another donkey in a long succession of donkeys, carrying Jesus, who is and must be the singular person who is the target of our worship. “Everything good comes from God. Every perfect gift is from him.” (James 1:17) I can only take the blame for my weaknesses, imperfections and sins. If I tried to take any credit for good, I would receive a stark rebuke similar to Simon Peter’s in today’s gospel: “Get behind me, Satan! You are an obstacle in my path because the way you think is not God’s way but man’s.”
Calling Simon “satan” seems to be extremely harsh, considering that he just wanted to protect Jesus from harm, suffering and violent death. Simon’s intentions were good, even commendable and should have been rewarded rather than quashed. The sharpness of Jesus’ reaction could have been the result of Simon’s arrogance, caused by finding himself in a position of authority (as we heard last Sunday) by Jesus’ announcement: “I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.” Poor Peter must have believed that such a mandate gave him the power to caution and instruct Jesus and – consequently – God. However, Jesus’ reprimand wasn’t venting his anger but putting Peter in his place: “Get behind me”, the order quickly explained to all the disciples: “If anyone wants to be a follower of mine, let him renounce himself and take up his cross and follow me.” You can follow only from behind, never from the front.
Simon’s commendable desire to protect Jesus from harm was misplaced because of his lack of understanding that suffering can have a redemptive meaning. We all try to avoid pain and seek comfort, and Peter was no exception to that. It takes effort to understand that pain can save us from greater harm. On a natural level, we could be badly burned if not for the pain of scalded fingers when touching hot things. Challenging, difficult or traumatic experiences shape us and usually make us stronger, more resilient and innovative. “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” is an old saying coined out of the experience of a multitude of people over generations, and it echoes Jesus’ instruction in today’s gospel: “If anyone wants to be a follower of mine, let him renounce himself and take up his cross and follow me.” Let’s be clear: Jesus has never called or encouraged us to seek pain or suffering. But when it inevitably happens, we ought to embrace it as an opportunity to show love, ask for help, learn, find new ways, and so on. Jesus didn’t ask us to stand at the cross and moan but to move, to be active.
Christianity is often seen as a joyless and grim religion. Jesus’ call to “renounce ourselves and take up the cross” seems to support such a false perception, particularly with his immediate follow-up: “anyone who wants to save his life will lose it; but anyone who loses his life for my sake will find it.” Such an apparent paradox makes sense when we “die” to our indulgent selves to live for others; that brings a sense of happiness and fulfilment much deeper than that offered by worldly, shallow, short-lived gratifications. When children are born, they completely “ruin” their parents’ earlier lives. But – with extremely rare exceptions – the parents, “having lost their lives,” find new, more fulfilling lives, though not without challenges.
Some of you have spoken of a sense of loss on my departure from this parish. I would have found it weirdly satisfying if I had not been cured of “the messiah syndrome” years ago when I heard a saying that since then has kept me grounded: “Graveyards are full of indispensable people.” I am just an old, bald donkey who’s done his job (one would hope…), and now, like the very first one, is being sent out of the big city back to his natural rural habitat while you get a new donkey. It’s a different one, but it is your donkey. Look after him and treat him well, and he will do his best to carry Jesus for you. And that’s what really matters.
