This week represents one of the holiest weeks in both the Jewish and Christian calendars.  In the Jewish faith, Passover starts at sundown on Wednesday.  Yesterday’s Palm Sunday is the beginning of Easter week in the Christian faith.  Both holy seasons commemorate a celebration of life and death, promises made and promises kept and, most importantly, redemption that leads to a new beginning.

Our rector in Palm Beach made an incredible observation this Palm Sunday.  He noted that the very community of people that cried “Hosanna” on Palm Sunday were the very same people who, just a few days later, cried for Jesus’ crucifixion.  That notion was profoundly provoking.  How was it that the people who were prostrating themselves at Jesus’ feet crying for salvation (in the Jewish tradition, the word “Hosanna” is literally a plea to God for help—the Christian tradition has used the word “Hosanna” as a cry of praise) be the same people who turned their backs on Jesus, demanding his execution?  But is not such capriciousness and swift judgement part of the human condition?  And is it not this very behavior that is currently tearing our country apart?

In some ways, the story of Holy Week is a perfect illustration of what we are currently facing—complete with the New Testament version of social media.  Jesus arrives in Jerusalem in a triumphant manner.  He is literally greeted as a savior receiving the pleas for salvation from the crowd.  Yet in a few days, the perfect whisper campaign driven by the religious leaders of the day, transformed Jesus from savior to traitor.  One can almost imagine that the local markets were used to disseminate information in much the same way Twitter is used today.  One can easily imagine it because we are seeing the same thing now, in our “modern” time.

Our current society is quick to lend an ear to voices on either end of the spectrum—straining to hear the words that we believe strengthen our own beliefs.  We are convinced that we are right, and the “others” are wrong.  We build up pedestals for ourselves and justify them as being founded on moral bases, although it is our definition of morality that we are using.  We see the world in black and white.  We believe that choices made will either end in salvation or death.

In the end, we are being driven by judgement.  We view the world through our lens and find it hard to believe that anyone who doesn’t share the same view is either enlightened or morally sound. We often poke fun, deride, and insult those whose views disagree with our own.  We feel justified in our judgement because we know that our interpretation of issues is the only interpretation worth considering.  We see our leaders as saviors and the other side’s leaders as traitors.  We are that community in Jerusalem who have let their viewpoint be irreparably influenced, politicized and weaponized.

At the center of Easter Week remains Jesus—perhaps the only one who remains true to his own beliefs and calling.  It’s amazing to think that Jesus can go from accepting the cries of help from the people around him on Palm Sunday, to forgiving the same people who help sentence him to death a few days later.  He does not spend those days in judgement, casting aspersions on those turning against him.  He recognizes that judgement brings death, but that love brings redemption.  And with that knowledge, Jesus can face his fate. He can avoid focusing on judgment and focus on love.

Imagine if we could do the same thing.  Imagine if love for others could be the driving force while we address the division that our society faces.  Imagine what that outcome would be.  For it we continue to focus on judgement we will surely bring about death.  And this time, there will not be a resurrection to commemorate.