Iona Lent Devotion Adaptation

On the road to Jerusalem everything is uncertain. Certainly this was the case for Jesus, as he rode on a donkey’s back down a steep slope, across the Kedron Valley and up into what, for him was to be a hostile city, a city where shouts of ‘Hosanna’ would so soon turn to ‘Crucify’ . As Jesus’ journey into Jerusalem was uncertain so it is for pilgrims today. Those who travel to Jerusalem hope for a faith-renewing experience, but fearful that their visit there will be interrupted by bombs and gunfire. It is uncertain for those who live in the surrounding land and who travel daily through the roadblocks and barricades with one eye on the wrangling of their political leaders, longing for them to shift, settle, build peace.

And for Jesus and his followers on the road to Jerusalem everything was uncertain too. They knew they were walking into conflict. Like migrants approaching a checkpoint knowing their papers are invalid, these travellers could see big trouble ahead.

Did it help that Jesus tried to explain to them what form that trouble would take ? Was it any comfort to hear him offer a strange hope of new beginning after the trauma ? Not to James and John, because they had other questions on their minds. If they had to walk this ragged walk, would they find riches at the end of it ? If they were to become martyrs, were they guaranteed sainthood later ? If they walked beside Jesus through the gunfire, would he keep them beside him in glory ?

Like anybody’s children, the sons of Zebedee expected some sort of reward for their labours, a guarantee of security to help them through their struggle, a promise of a certain status in exchange for a certain loyalty. No more and no less than most of us would hope for in this life. No more and no less than we would expect from a loyal and compassionate God... A fair exchange for faith and devotion... As we walk our own Jerusalem roads, we hope to find something safe, secure, rewarding at the end of our journey.

But Christ shocks us by saying (as he did to James and John), ‘You don’t know what you’re asking for’... Christ subverts our hopes by refusing to relinquish the uncertainty. He tells us to put away all expectations of status, security and reward. Instead he holds out his cup for us to drink; he offers us the opportunity to share in the baptism he is baptised with.

On the road to Jerusalem there are no guarantees. Except the guarantee of companionship... Christ invites us to take this ragged road with him and enjoy the riches of his company, to experience sainthood and glory in this present life as we allow ourselves to step along beside him, and we let him lead us through the roadblocks and bullets, the conflicts and pain we encounter along our way. His cup is all we need to nourish us, and his baptism is all we need to cleanse, renew and refresh us as we go.

Let us pray : Help us to accept O Christ that our paths may not be smooth and our journey may often be risky.

Help us to accept vulnerability with no promise of security. Help us to give you devotion with no promise of reward.

We don’t know what we’re asking when we ask for these things. But give us hands to take the cup you hold out to us – a cup of companionship; help us gladly immerse ourselves in the baptism you want us to share; and to so know you on the road with us that all our anxious thoughts of status, security and reward wash away, and we are left with you, just you, astonished by your love for us again. AMEN