Passion Sunday

Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be always acceptable to thee, O Lord, my rock and my redeemer, and Lord, give us here today, eyes to see and ears to hear so we can learn your word together as a family. We offer you all the praise, honor, and Glory for it in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Good morning, my fellow encouragers! On this Passion Sunday, we arrive at a solemn crossroads of our Lenten journey—a day when the grief of the cross meets the promise of redemption. Today we stand before the mystery of our Savior’s suffering, not only to mourn the weight of sin but also to behold the transformative power of His sacrifice. It’s where the calling on our heart to face the full weight of Christ’s sacrifice intersects with embracing the saving grace that flows from His wounds.

This morning, we embark on a journey into the mystery of the Passion as we continue our exploration of the Lenten season. As we do, let’s open our hearts to the inescapable truth of the cross. Though a symbol of sorrow, it’s the very pathway to the abundant mercy and life that our Lord offers.

In the Collect of the Day for Passion Sunday, we read: “We beseech thee, Almighty God, mercifully to look upon thy people; that by thy great goodness they may be governed and preserved evermore, both in body and soul; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.”

In these words, written by Thomas Cranmer, the author of the Anglican Prayer Book, we acknowledge our dependence upon God’s gracious governance. We confess that in our weakness we require His preservation, both in our mortal bodies and in our restless souls. It is this petition that frames our reflection on the cross—a reminder that even as we confront the painful reality of sin and suffering, God’s goodness continuously surrounds us and sustains us.

The Passion of our Lord is no distant, abstract event. It is a living reality—a confrontation with the depth of human sin and the immeasurable cost of redemption. As we reflect on the accounts of Christ’s suffering, we see before us a Savior who, though innocent, willingly embraced the agony of the cross. His journey to Golgotha was not merely an execution; it was the ultimate act of divine love—a love that bears our iniquities and offers us the hope of renewal.

This past week, Fr. Victor and I had the opportunity to study several of R.D. Crouse’s sermons with several other clergy and our Diocesan Bishop, the Most Reverend Ray Sutton. Crouse, in his sermons, often reminds us that the cross is the ultimate revelation of God’s character. It is the “great paradox” of our faith and stands as the embodiment of pain and the wellspring of hope. In its darkness, we discern the light of grace, in its sorrow, the promise of resurrection.

When we gaze upon the cross, we are invited to confront our own brokenness—the sins and failures that have ensnared our hearts. Yet, in this confrontation, we also encounter the depth of God’s mercy. The cross does not condemn us; it redeems us. Its very presence proclaims that our suffering is not in vain, for through it we are offered new life.

Let me take this opportunity to invite you to attend all the services of Holy Week…Spy Wednesday for the “Service of Shadows,” Maundy Thursday, where we celebrate the institution of the Holy Eucharist by Jesus, and Good Friday, wherein the service includes a devotion before a bare, wooden cross called “The Wood of the Cross.”

In it, one of the reproaches says, “O my people, what have I done unto thee? Or wherein have I wearied thee? Testify against me. I brought thee forth from the land of bondage, and led thee through the waters of salvation, and thou hast prepared a Cross for your Savior.”

It is powerful imagery immersed in moving worship. Here is a symbol so stark—a bare wooden cross—that it forces us to acknowledge our guilt. Yet, at the same time, it is a sign of unfathomable grace.

The blood that was poured out, representing punishment, is also the sign of our forgiveness. In that blood, we find the promise of being, as our collect says, “governed and preserved evermore.” It is a call to humility—a reminder that our worth is not found in our accomplishments but in the sacrificial love of Christ.

The Passion calls us to examine our lives honestly. St. Paul reminds us in his epistles that none are without sin; indeed, our inability to break free from the bondage of our own making is the very reason Christ had to endure the cross. Our sins, whether large or small, have a way of ensnaring us, leaving us in despair and isolation. Yet it is precisely in this recognition of our brokenness that we find the opening for grace.

St. Paul highlights the stark reality of our condition—a life marked by selfish ambition, pride, and indifference to the needs of others. Such a state leaves us wandering in spiritual darkness, cut off from the fullness of God’s love, reminiscent of the condition of the Israelites as they roamed the desert for 40 years.

But the cross, in its redemptive purpose, offers us a path out of this darkness. By confronting our sins and laying them at the foot of the cross, we are freed from the chains that bind us. Our confession, when met with God’s mercy, becomes the first step toward healing.

During our Lenten journey, we are not called to hide from the truth of our sinfulness. Instead, we are encouraged to acknowledge it openly, allowing the light of Christ to penetrate the depths of our hearts. Only then can we experience true transformation—a metamorphosis wrought by divine love that turns our mourning into joy and our despair into hope.

The cross, with all its painful symbolism, invites us into a daily walk of transformation. It teaches us that true freedom is found not in the absence of suffering, but in the embrace of God’s redemptive love. R.D. Crouse once remarked that to carry one’s cross is to engage in a continuous act of faith—a commitment to see beyond the immediate pain to the eternal hope that lies ahead.

In our everyday lives, this means accepting that suffering and joy often share the same path. Our struggles with sin, our moments of despair, and even our feelings of inadequacy are not ends in themselves; they are the context in which God’s grace becomes most evident. The call of Passion Sunday is to see our lives through the lens of the cross—a lens that magnifies our need for redemption and, at the same time, reveals the richness of divine provision.

As we go about our week, I encourage us to look for the moments when God’s grace touches us unexpectedly. Perhaps it is in a kind word from a friend, a moment of solitude in prayer, or a spontaneous act of generosity. These are the signs that the cross is at work in our lives. They remind us that we are governed and preserved by the very goodness that flowed from Calvary. Let these moments kindle a fire of hope in our hearts—a hope that transforms the mundane into the miraculous.

The most significant expression of our Lenten journey is found in the Holy Communion – a shared feast of mercy. When we gather at the altar, we are not merely recalling a past event, as some Christian denominations assert. The Eucharist is much more than simply remembering what Jesus did for us on the Cross.

Each time we partake of the bread and the cup, we enter the ongoing mystery of Christ’s sacrifice, where we renew our covenant with God the Father—a covenant sealed by the blood of Christ and celebrated in the fellowship of believers.

The Eucharist is a tangible reminder that the cross is not a distant relic but a living reality. It nourishes our souls and binds us together in a community of grace. In the sharing of this sacred meal, we declare that we are no longer defined by our sins, but by the redeeming power of God’s love. We join our voices and hearts in thanksgiving for the mercy that has preserved us, even in our weakness.

On Maundy Thursday, we commemorate Jesus’ institution of the Eucharistic Sacrament. I pray you join us as we celebrate the last meal He shared with His Apostles. After service, we’ll partake of an Agape meal with similar foodstuffs Jesus shared on that last night.

The communal act of worship in celebrating the Eucharist is a powerful testament to the way the cross transforms our lives. It is an invitation to live out the generosity of God in tangible ways—to extend the blessings we have received to those who are hungry, lonely, or in despair. When we share in the Eucharist, we are reminded that our journey is not one of isolation but of community—a community that is constantly being renewed by the light of Christ.

Today, on Passion Sunday, as we stand before the mystery of Calvary, I invite you to look deeply within. Ask yourself: How has the cross touched my life? Where do I still cling to my old ways, weighed down by guilt or fear? The cross calls us to relinquish our pride and our self-reliance, to trust in the transforming power of God’s mercy.

It is only when we accept our need for redemption that we can fully appreciate the gift of grace. Embrace the paradox of the cross—a symbol of both suffering and hope. I pray it transforms us more and more each day to live with humility, to seek forgiveness, and to extend compassion to others.

In a moment, we’ll take a moment to confess our burdens to God through the General Confession. Lay those burdens at the foot of the cross and invite the healing power of Christ to renew your spirit. Trust that in His mercy, you are governed and preserved—both in body and soul—as our collect so beautifully proclaims.

In the spirit of our church’s namesake, St. Barnabas, who was known as the “Son of Encouragement,” let me encourage you on this Passion Sunday. Like Jesus, the cross is not the end of our story—it is the beginning. In its painful expression, we see both the depth of God’s love and the boundless scope of His mercy. Though the cross reminds us of our sin, it also points us to the joy of redemption, where our lives are transformed by divine grace.

So, my fellow encouragers, as we continue our Lenten journey toward the glorious celebration of the Resurrection, may the cross be your constant guide and your ever-present reminder that in God’s economy, every burden is met with abundant grace.