I have vivid memories of Palm Sundays.
1991. My daughter, Kristen, was born on Palm Sunday. Our church, Brockville Union, in Dunedin, was celebrating that morning by making and distributing little crosses made out of New Zealand flax.
1993. St Mark’s Presbyterian, Tokoroa, celebrated Palm Sunday with the fronds from tree ferns. They were strewn around inside the church building. I invited the congregation to pick them up and take them for a walk down the street. The reaction was mixed. Most of the kids really got into the occasion. This was much better than sitting in church! A number of adults entered into the occasion. Some participated with scowls of disapproval. And some just stayed behind waiting for what would happen next. We came back and talked about the challenge of living Christianity out ‘on the street’, rather than in the privacy of our own homes or dedicated worship space. One person I spoke to later told me she’d found it harder to take part in the street walk than sharing faith in an overseas country as a ‘missionary’ just a few years before. I’m not sure how I’d do it differently. Perhaps give people some options, rather than forcing people to choose between conformity or rebellion. It certainly got people thinking though.
1995. Tawa Union (Presbyterian/Methodist/Church of Christ) in Wellington. I’d written a play exploring the mixed expectations of the crowd on the day of Jesus’ entrance into Jerusalem. It was intermingled with the political agenda of the time – the occupation of Moutoa Gardens in Wanganui. Maori protesters standing up against the confiscation of property in an earlier time.
1999. The Woolworths carpark in Tawa, Wellington. Geoff Allen, a playwright and director, put together live theatre to add some spice to the end of the traditional Sunday afternoon street march. Instead of gathering in a church, we were worshipping out in public. Some of the Anglican members took on the role of concerned religious leaders. We had a few Baptists, Pentecostals, and Union members take roles as crowd, disciples etc. I was Peter, unsure about it all, looking on from a distance. And then Jesus calls me down for a closer conversation. How apt that was. Jesus calling for an intimate conversation even in the middle of a high power rally with so many agendas at play.
Now in 2005, it seems strange not to be in a large religious gathering this coming Sunday.