Pope Benedict presided over Mass in St Peter's Square asking the question, Who is
Jesus of Nazareth? Below is the full text of the Pope's Homily in English.
Dear
Brothers and Sisters, Palm Sunday is the great doorway leading into Holy Week,
the week when the Lord Jesus makes his way towards the culmination of his earthly
existence. He goes up to Jerusalem in order to fulfil the Scriptures and to be nailed
to the wood of the Cross, the throne from which he will reign for ever, drawing to
himself humanity of every age and offering to all the gift of redemption. We know
from the Gospels that Jesus had set out towards Jerusalem in company with the Twelve,
and that little by little a growing crowd of pilgrims had joined them. Saint Mark
tells us that as they were leaving Jericho, there was a “great multitude” following
Jesus (cf. 10:46).
On the final stage of the journey, a particular event stands
out, one which heightens the sense of expectation of what is about to unfold and focuses
attention even more sharply upon Jesus. Along the way, as they were leaving Jericho,
a blind man was sitting begging, Bartimaeus by name. As soon as he heard that Jesus
of Nazareth was passing, he began to cry out: “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on
me!” (Mk 10:47). People tried to silence him, but to no avail; until Jesus
had them call him over and invited him to approach. “What do you want me to do for
you?”, he asked. And the reply: “Master, let me receive my sight” (v. 51). Jesus
said: “Go your way, your faith has made you well.” Bartimaeus regained his sight
and began to follow Jesus along the way (cf. v. 52). And so it was that, after this
miraculous sign, accompanied by the cry “Son of David”, a tremor of Messianic hope
spread through the crowd, causing many of them to ask: this Jesus, going ahead of
us towards Jerusalem, could he be the Messiah, the new David? And as he was about
to enter the Holy City, had the moment come when God would finally restore the Davidic
kingdom?
The preparations made by Jesus, with the help of his disciples, serve
to increase this hope. As we heard in today’s Gospel (cf. Mk 11:1-10), Jesus
arrives in Jerusalem from Bethphage and the Mount of Olives, that is, the route by
which the Messiah was supposed to come. From there, he sent two disciples ahead of
him, telling them to bring him a young donkey that they would find along the way.
They did indeed find the donkey, they untied it and brought it to Jesus. At this
point, the spirits of the disciples and of the other pilgrims were swept up with excitement:
they took their coats and placed them on the colt; others spread them out on the street
in Jesus’ path as he approached, riding on the donkey. Then they cut branches from
the trees and began to shout phrases from Psalm 118, ancient pilgrim blessings, which
in that setting took on the character of messianic proclamation: “Hosanna! Blessed
is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the kingdom of our father David
that is coming! Hosanna in the highest!” (v. 9-10). This festive acclamation, reported
by all four evangelists, is a cry of blessing, a hymn of exultation: it expresses
the unanimous conviction that, in Jesus, God has visited his people and the longed-for
Messiah has finally come. And everyone is there, growing in expectation of the work
that Christ will accomplish once he has entered the city.
But what is the
content, the inner resonance of this cry of jubilation? The answer is found throughout
the Scripture, which reminds us that the Messiah fulfils the promise of God’s blessing,
God’s original promise to Abraham, father of all believers: “I will make of you a
great nation and I will bless you ... and by you all the families of the earth shall
bless themselves” (Gen 12:2-3). It is the promise that Israel had always kept
alive in prayer, especially the prayer of the Psalms. Hence he whom the crowd acclaims
as the blessed one is also he in whom the whole of humanity will be blessed. Thus,
in the light of Christ, humanity sees itself profoundly united and, as it were, enfolded
within the cloak of divine blessing, a blessing that permeates, sustains, redeems
and sanctifies all things.
Here we find the first great message that today’s
feast brings us: the invitation to adopt a proper outlook upon all humanity, on the
peoples who make up the world, on its different cultures and civilizations. The look
that the believer receives from Christ is a look of blessing: a wise and loving look,
capable of grasping the world’s beauty and having compassion on its fragility. Shining
through this look is God’s own look upon those he loves and upon Creation, the work
of his hands. We read in the Book of Wisdom: “But thou art merciful to all,
for thou canst do all things, and thou dost overlook men’s sins, that they may repent.
For thou lovest all things that exist and hast loathing for none of the things which
thou hast made ... thou sparest all things, for they are thine, O Lord who lovest
the living” (11:23-24, 26).
Let us return to today’s Gospel passage and ask
ourselves: what is really happening in the hearts of those who acclaim Christ as King
of Israel? Clearly, they had their own idea of the Messiah, an idea of how the long-awaited
King promised by the prophets should act. Not by chance, a few days later, instead
of acclaiming Jesus, the Jerusalem crowd will cry out to Pilate: “Crucify him!”, while
the disciples, together with others who had seen him and listened to him, will be
struck dumb and will disperse. The majority, in fact, was disappointed by the way
Jesus chose to present himself as Messiah and King of Israel. This is the heart of
today’s feast, for us too. Who is Jesus of Nazareth for us? What idea do we have
of the Messiah, what idea do we have of God? It is a crucial question, one we cannot
avoid, not least because during this very week we are called to follow our King who
chooses the Cross as his throne. We are called to follow a Messiah who promises us,
not a facile earthly happiness, but the happiness of heaven, divine beatitude. So
we must ask ourselves: what are our true expectations? What are our deepest desires,
with which we have come here today to celebrate Palm Sunday and to begin our celebration
of Holy Week?
Dear young people, present here today, this, in a particular
way, is your Day, wherever the Church is present throughout the world. So I greet
you with great affection! May Palm Sunday be a day of decision for you, the decision
to say yes to the Lord and to follow him all the way, the decision to make his Passover,
his death and resurrection, the very focus of your Christian lives. It is the decision
that leads to true joy, as I reminded you in this year’s World Youth Day Message –
“Rejoice in the Lord always” (Phil 4:4). So it was for Saint Clare of Assisi
when, on Palm Sunday 800 years ago, inspired by the example of Saint Francis and his
first companions, she left her father’s house to consecrate herself totally to the
Lord. She was eighteen years old and she had the courage of faith and love to decide
for Christ, finding in him true joy and peace.
Dear brothers and sisters,
may these days call forth two sentiments in particular: praise, after the example
of those who welcomed Jesus into Jerusalem with their “Hosanna!”, and thanksgiving,
because in this Holy Week the Lord Jesus will renew the greatest gift we could possibly
imagine: he will give us his life, his body and his blood, his love. But we must
respond worthily to so great a gift, that is to say, with the gift of ourselves, our
time, our prayer, our entering into a profound communion of love with Christ who suffered,
died and rose for us. The early Church Fathers saw a symbol of all this in the gesture
of the people who followed Jesus on his entry into Jerusalem, the gesture of spreading
out their coats before the Lord. Before Christ – the Fathers said – we must spread
out our lives, ourselves, in an attitude of gratitude and adoration. As we conclude,
let us listen once again to the words of one of these early Fathers, Saint Andrew,
Bishop of Crete: “So it is ourselves that we must spread under Christ’s feet, not
coats or lifeless branches or shoots of trees, matter which wastes away and delights
the eye only for a few brief hours. But we have clothed ourselves with Christ’s grace,
or with the whole Christ ... so let us spread ourselves like coats under his feet
... let us offer not palm branches but the prizes of victory to the conqueror of death.
Today let us too give voice with the children to that sacred chant, as we wave the
spiritual branches of our soul: ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord,
the King of Israel’” (PG 97, 994). Amen!