Our prayer this day, this Palm Sunday of the Passion of the Lord

Lord, God, I hate April Fool’s jokes… OK, OK, I strongly dislike ‘em. 

How does the story of this whole day, our whole faith start in life, palm branches and Hosanna’s and end in the rolling of a stone to contain death?  How is it that our king has arrived, yet is seated upon an ass’s colt? How is it that an all-powerful God empties and humbles Himself, and takes on our meager existence?

How can One celebrate the Passover into freedom and life for the slaves while taking on the nature of a slave, even to the point of death? How is it we praise you and proclaim Your Holy Name while crying out My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?

How is it that the Lord is my help and I am getting buffeted, spat upon, and my beard plucked? How can bread and wine become body and blood, a last supper that will not be consumed again until the day communion is shared within the Reign of God?

How is all of this either a matter of faith or the prank over generation after generation. For me and my house, our knees will bend and our tongues confess that Jesus Christ is Lord.