As Jesus would soon discover, an enthusiastic reception is not necessarily a good gauge of your popularity.
For centuries, preachers and theologians marvelled at the turn of events in Holy Week. From his triumphant entry into Jerusalem to his ignominious departure five days later, we tend to discuss Holy Week as a surprising turn-around in public opinion.
In reality, it was a standard fall from grace: that awful moment when public figures realise they are not as loved as they thought they were. It is a familiar story.
In matters of faith, we all experience ups and downs. There are elated crests of hope and joy that can quickly descend into troughs of despair. We write our best songs in the troughs as if there weren’t another crest coming. Then, when the crest comes, we dismiss it quietly and hark back to the songs. For some reason, we seem disposed towards enjoying the bad periods most.
Human nature
Holy Week covers a trough between two crests. The crucifix is a far more potent symbol of our faith than the palm branches or the empty tomb.
Perhaps the reason for this lies in the surliness of human nature. Too many of us find meaning in our misery and accept compliments badly. This provides a perfect opportunity for empathy and that can make the people around you feel better in themselves.
Empathy is a lot easier than complimenting somebody, so misery makes life easier for almost everybody. Holy Week challenges this cycle and invites us to think positively about ourselves.
That invitation can be found in the Stations of the Cross. Although it is not a literal representation of the Gospel account, the tradition is very human. It brings you 12 steps that spiral, by ever-deepening falls, towards death.
Along the way, the descent is peppered with those hints of empathy and nostalgia we know from our experiences of suffering. But the last two steps are actions of care and love and focus us on the altar, the place where the followers of Christ celebrate his resurrection.
Look to your side, and the cycle invites you to descend once more. Make a choice. Do you bask in the light of positivity for a while? Or do you, like most of us, rush straight back to the safety of trough-land with the firm determination not to waste time beyond the 12th station next time around?
Simple ambition
Holy Week challenges us to ask what it means to be redeemed, redeemed from the endless cycles of familiar despair. It invites us to stand back and waste a little time affirming yourself and finding that you were worth redeeming.
We say that everybody has some redeeming characteristic; take that adage a bit further. In a culture that is anxious to highlight your faults, you must accept that you also have many redeeming characteristics. Knowing that will make you stronger to face your next trough. You will also transform the experiences of others as you do this. This is the simple ambition for changing the world with millions of insignificant works of immensity.
Realising you are redeemed could make you deluded just the same way as basing your validity on your indispensability makes you pompous. We all need to balance these and the scale flickers easily. We generally seek appraisals from others for this balance.
Flags and acclamations are unreliable indicators of your true worth. A balanced person needs a time of positive, truthful introspection as well. God thought you were worth dying for; accept that as an appraisal if you can.