The Reverend Peter B. Ives, Palm Sunday, Haydenville Church.

I love the end of winter and the coming of spring and can’t wait to see the yellow daffodils, as I walk up the hill by Wright Hall at Smith College.  There is a large area right near the top of the hill that is barren most of the winter.  But late March, all of a sudden you will see the tiny budding of the daffodils.  And when I see them pushing their way upward through ice and cold, I am reminded of the words to Sydney Carter’s song: “Love like the yellow daffodil is coming through the snow, love like the yellow daffodil is Lord of all I know.  Ring out bells of Norwich, let the winter come and go.  All shall be well again, I know.”

These words, of course, weren’t just Sydner Carter’s words.  They were the words of Julian of Norwich.  Julian was born in Norwich, England in 1343.  Sister Julian chose to live in a small cell attached to the St. Julian Church in Norwich, England, that Jenny and I have visited.  Her cell had three windows.  The first window opened into the sanctuary so she could worship and receive communion.  The second window opened to the kitchen for food. The third window opened out onto the street so that the people of Norwich could come and speak to her and share hopes and fears.

She would council them saying: “the love of God as like the sun shining upon you.”  She called each of them “God’s beloved.”  She wanted them to know God’s love was working through them and in their midst.  And after their tears and the sharing of fears she would look them in the eye and say: “All shall be well, all manner of things shall be well, and all shall be well again I know.” as the daffodils bloomed outside her window.

Sister Julian was not naïve when she said, “All shall be well again.”  She knew that outside her abbey, life was cold and hard. It was the time of the Black Plague in the 1360’s.  The people of Norwich had very little food to eat, very little water to drink, and the plague was taking the lives of their children every day.  But she shared with them the power of her deepest convictions that no matter what was happening, the power of God’s love could still transform their lives. In her book: “Revelations of Divine Love” the first book in the English language written by a woman,  she wrote: “Deeds are done which appear so evil to us and people suffer such terrible evils that it does not seem as though any good will ever come of them.  But when our soul is rooted in God’s endless love, then all shall be well again I know.

So, where did the strength come from for Sister Julian? Clearly the strength came from God, but also from all the women of the Bible who were part of Jesus’ ministry: these women who were following Jesus and ministering to him as he made his way towards Jerusalem on Palm Sunday and came closer and closer to the dangers of city and especially the danger of those Roman soldiers keeping law and order and waiting to nail anyone to the Cross considered to be a rebels, a revolutionary or the Messiah.

Sister Julian got her strength from the women of the Bible, women like Mary and Martha in whose home, in Bethany, Jesus stays before he goes to Jerusalem on Palm Sunday. Both recognize and affirm Jesus as The Anointed One, The Messiah, The Christ: Martha by saying “Yes Lord, I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of the living God” and your reign has begun, and Mary sitting in the living room of her home, clearly with the disciples, but also as a disciple, and then going over and anointing his feet with oil in recognition of him as the Anointed One. It wasn’t the male disciples who clearly recognize Jesus as their Messiah, they have their doubts and uncertainties and hesitations. It is the women who clearly and decisively recognize Jesus as their Messiah, as he makes his way into the dangers awaiting him in Jerusalem on Palm Sunday.

And that is true, especially, of the unnamed women in the Gospel of  Mark who at this extraordinary moment, just before Palm Sunday, also  recognizes Jesus as the Messiah and anoints his head with oil at the home  of Simon the leper.  She pours out an alabaster jar of costly ointment over his head and is immediately rebuked by the disciples for her waste, but Jesus says to them, “Why do you trouble her, she has done a beautiful things to me for she has done for me what she has the power to do.

All of which is remarkable because women didn’t have much power in those days.  They were regarded as the property of their husbands.  They couldn’t vote or hold public office and had no due process in the courts.  They had no contact with rabbis or religious leaders and their thoughts on religion carried no weight.  Whatever power they had they had to express in their own unique way as women.

Yet, what these women around Jesus do, is to use their power in the most effective way they could.  They shelter Jesus in their homes. They follow Jesus with palms in their hands as he rides his donkey through the gates of Jerusalem. They stay with him all the way to the Temple to throw out the corrupt money changers.  They stay with him when he celebrated the Last Supper with the disciples and then went out into the Garden of Gethsemane to pray.  The women stay awake when the male disciples go to sleep and abandoned their vigil. And unlike the male disciples, they don’t run away and completely abandon Jesus, when the soldiers come and force him to carry his own cross to Golgatha.

It is the women who do what they have the power to do and what they have the power to do is to stay with him, to be present with him, comfort him, to care about him, to remain with him, when all the men have run away.  And most of all they use the power of their love to support Jesus, to support the ministry he was trying to do as he preaches good news to the poor, release of the captives, and gives sight to the blind, food to the hungry, shelter to the homeless, and liberty to the oppressed and proclaims the day that is coming, by the grace of God, when there will be liberty and justice for all.

These women didn’t have much power. They were regarded as the property of their husbands.  They couldn’t vote or hold public office and had no due process in the courts. But still, what power they had they fully used, which was not the power of power, but the power of love: not the power of the Romans, but the power of the love embodied in Jesus. And in the end Jesus says of them “They did what they had the power to do and they will be remembered.”

And that is the message to us this Palm Sunday.  Like Julian, and Mary and Martha, you have power too.  You have power now to be a disciple of Jesus; power to do ministry for Jesus; power to make a difference for Jesus,  power to touch the lives of others; and power to change the world in his name. Not the power of power, but the power of love. And what you do with the power of your love, will be remembered of you too.

Today, as in Sister Julian’s time, there is still violence and evil right here, in our land.  Right now, more than ever, we need the power of your love to become the power of a social movement that will stop the power of the  gun violence that is killing our children in their homes and in their schools, and on the streets, that Linda spoke about, so movingly, and our own children sang about, so movingly with “There is a Place for Us.”

Just yesterday my own daughters and grand daughters were marching in Portland, Maine, and New York City and Washington D.C. to the cry of  NEVER AGAIN, and today we need all your voices to stand up to the power of power in our country, the power of the gun lobbies, and the gun epidemic. More children have now been killed in our schools by gun violence since  Sandy Hook than all our combat troops killed overseas since 9/11.

And that  is why our ministry here at the Haydenville Church is so important today,  because ministry today, just like the ministry of Jesus on Palm Sunday, is still about using the power of love create the power of a movement than can transform the power of power by never ever losing our faith: that love like a yellow daffodil is coming through the snow, love like the yellow daffodil is Lord of all I know, and being able to join hands and sing together, Ring out bells of Norwich, let the winter come and go, All shall be well again I know.