#get it wrong

(by request, my homily from Palm Sunday)

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

The Palm Sunday Gospels are all about getting it wrong. And it starts with the people, the ones who welcome Jesus into Jerusalem. With a triumphal greeting, the kind that’s reserved for kings and conquering heroes.

Because that’s who they think Jesus will be for them. A king. A conquering hero.

They’re looking for another David, another Judah the Maccabee. Someone who will lead a successful rebellion, defeat the occupying army, and restore their glory. That’s how they get it wrong.

And that’s why the chief priests and the scribes in Jerusalem absolutely panic.

They’ve seen this one before. They know what the triumphal greeting means.

Wanna-be liberators show up every few years. And when they start going after Roman soldiers? Rome cracks down hard. They kill everyone involved in the revolt. And the town where it starts, gets burned to the ground.

This time? It’s starting in Jerusalem.

So they set things in motion to kill Jesus. Before it’s too late. That’s how they get it wrong.

Even the Apostles don’t really understand what Jesus is doing. Some of them (Judas, Peter) get it horribly wrong.

Everybody’s getting it wrong.

Notice the impact that everybody getting it wrong, all the different ways they get it wrong, has on what Jesus does.

Right, it doesn’t. The fact that everybody is getting it wrong, has no impact at all on what Jesus does.

Why? Remember who Jesus is. Jesus is the Second Person of the Trinity. Jesus is God. And God is always true to His own nature. That nature? Is love.

That doesn’t just mean that God is loving. Although He is. But that there’s more to it. As St. John tells us, God is love. God literally is love.

And the pattern of redemption that we see played out in Holy Week is God’s fundamental nature, that love played out in the ultimate act of mercy.

Poured out unconditionally for people who get it wrong. For people who’ve done so much to not deserve it. For people who’ve worked against it. For people just like us.

Because love isn’t just a feeling. Or a thought. Love isn’t just wanting the best for the beloved.

Love is an action. Love in action means actively working for the best for the beloved.

And love in action doesn’t just mean actively working for the best when everyone’s at their most loveable. When no one has made any mistakes. When it’s easy.

Love in action means loving people who’ve got it wrong. Love in action means loving people who are going wrong.

Love in action means salvage.

What do I mean by salvage? I mean seeing what something could be. Maybe that’s what it used to be. Or maybe that’s what it never got the chance to be. And doing what needs to be done so that it can be. That’s salvage.

Here’s how I think about it. There used to be a little antique shop behind Sacred Heart convent. The front of the store by the window had the expensive stuff. As you went towards the back, things got less expensive. In a little room in the back was the cheap stuff.

It was cheap because it needed repairs. Or it needed to be refinished. Or it was damaged goods.

That’s where I shopped. Because that’s what I could afford.

In a box in that little back room, there were the pieces of what had been a foot stool. They had been used hard. Some of them had split and needed to be glued back together. All of them needed to be refinished. There was a lot of work to do, before you could put it back together to make a foot stool.

The first time I saw that box, it was marked $25. With all the work that it needed, and what it was going to cost me for glue and stain and filler and fabric, I didn’t have the money.

A few weeks later, I came back and the box was marked down to $15. To me, the potential was obvious. But it was still too much.

When I came back a month later, the box was still there. But now it was marked down to $5. The owner remembered me and said, “I was hoping you’d come back.”

With a big smile, I scooped it up and said, “I’ll take it. This one’s mine.”

I had a great time repairing and rebuilding that foot stool. And I still have it.

But as much fun as I had fixing that foot stool – it’s nothing next to how God fixes things.

Because God’s version of salvage is so much greater.

God’s version is salvaging the opportunity that was lost. Salvaging the dream that was crushed.

God’s version is salvaging someone who’s struggling. Salvaging someone who’s lost in addiction.

Salvaging someone who’s been hurt, who sees themselves as damaged goods.

Salvaging someone who thinks they’ve done too much, that they’re too far gone.

Because that is what God’s love in action looks like.

God totally ignores all the ways that you and I get it wrong. Everything we’ve done to not deserve it. All the ways we’ve worked against it.

You and I may feel like a box of parts. Beat up. Needing a lot of work. But that’s not how God sees us.

Instead, God looks at us with love. And sees what we could be. What we used to be. What we never got the chance to be. What needs to be done so that we can be.

And with a big smile says, “I’ll take her. I’ll take him. This one’s mine.”

That is how God sees you.

That’s the point of Holy Week, the point of Good Friday, the point of Easter.

Because our God is the God of salvage.

There’s a certain satisfaction that we get when we figure something out.

But there’s something else. The things we figure out on our own stick with us. Those explanations really sink it, they have staying power. More so than if someone just told us the answer.

It’s more work for the one doing the explaining. But in the long run it’s worth the extra effort. Because the person you are explaining it to will get a lot more out of it.

This is one of the reasons why Jesus so often uses parables, analogies, and metaphors to get through to the Apostles. And to us.

Like today’s Gospel, where Jesus warns about the yeast of the Pharisees.

The Apostles don’t understand. Not that they don’t understand the point of the metaphor. They don’t even understand that what Jesus is saying is a metaphor.

Which is why they get it wrong.

But what I like better than the metaphor? Jesus’ response when His chosen Apostles get it wrong.

Jesus doesn’t dump them. Jesus doesn’t start over, this time with a brighter group of people as Apostles 2.0.

Jesus doesn’t let them off the hook, by just telling them the answer. But He doesn’t leave them to founder either. Or waste His time marveling at their stupidity. By way of a miracle, Jesus takes their wrong answer off the table.

Then pushes them to try again.

The best part of this? Even when they get it wrong, Jesus doesn’t give up on them. Jesus keeps working with them. Helping them to deal with the setbacks and get back on track. Pushing them forward.

It’s classic Jesus. And exactly how He handles each one us.

No matter how you and I get it wrong. 

When you start asking who God is, you’re going to run into the “all” list.

God is, literally, the fullest expression of existence. Meaning that every characteristic of God represents the fullness of that characteristic. That’s why God gets described as all-knowing, all-powerful, all-wise, etc.

The “all” list. 

My favorite part of the “all” list? The way that God deals with us.

All-patient. All-loving. All-forgiving.

You see it in today’s Gospel. You’ve got a bunch of God’s people. A culture where they’ve known God for thousands of years. If anybody should understand God, should be doing things God’s way, these folks are it.

But when Jesus looks at them, they’re…all over the place. Some of them are sick, some are broke. Some of them are doing okay, some are a mess. Some of them are caught up in their own stuff, some are just trying to get by.

Most of them are clueless about God. The few that aren’t, are busy squabbling with each other.

Then they take that first, stumbling step towards God.

Jesus’ response?

Not “forget it, you’re beyond help.” Not “it’s about time.” Not “come see me when you get your stuff together.”

But this. Just what you would expect from the One who is all-patient, all-loving, all-forgiving.

“At the sight of the crowds, His heart was moved with pity for them because they were troubled and abandoned, like sheep without a shepherd.”

This is the heart of God.

No matter how we get it wrong. No matter how many times we get it wrong. God’s heart will always be moved when we take that first, stumbling step towards Him.