Palm Sunday

I served as a Lector at Mass today, proclaiming the first reading (Isaiah 50:4-7) and participating in proclaiming the Passion according to Saint Matthew. I read the narrative part, which is by far the longest, and it was a particularly moving experience to proclaim the Lord’s Passion in that way. I really thought I was going to lose it a couple of times.

The Agony in the Garden in particular is always a sucker punch for me; this mystery nearly always brings me to the verge of tears as I contemplate the aloneness – the utter aloneness – of the Man who was also God. Was he ever so much alone? Even at the hour of his crucifixion there were a handful of scattered witnesses, despite his abandonment by all of the Twelve but Saint John.

But at Gethsemane, though he brought with him those closest to him, Peter, James, and John could not remain awake with him. John himself glossed over the incident in his own Gospel, not I think out of any attempt to make himself look better – for he could not even bring himself to mention his own name throughout most of the text – but perhaps because the memory of this particular failure still haunted him decades later.

Here’s another version of the Passion, sung to Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, that packs quite an emotional punch of its own.