Tag Archives: Frankl

Jesus’ Freedom–and Ours (Palm Sunday, 4/13/2025)

Readings

In today’s collect we prayed “Mercifully grant that we may walk in the way of his suffering, and also share in his resurrection.” Wondering what that might look like, I’m drawn to what Harold Kushner says in his Forward to Viktor Frankl’s book Man’s Search for Meaning, the book based on Frankl’s experience in the Nazi concentration camps: “Forces beyond your control can take away everything you possess except one thing, your freedom to choose how you will respond to the situation.” And I’m struck by how Jesus uses that freedom in today’s Gospel.

Our Gospel reading starts with Jesus’ celebration of the Passover, and his reinterpretation of its symbols: “This is my body, which is given for you.… This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood.” And Luke follows this immediately with “A dispute also arose among them as to which one of them was to be regarded as the greatest.” How tempting it might have been for Jesus to use his freedom to say “Enough. I’m going back to Galilee. You all sort it out on your own.” Instead, again, he tries to help them understand that God’s kingdom works differently than those to which they’re accustomed.

(Oddly, given the often discouraging state of the Church, I find Luke’s portrayal of the disciples encouraging. They argue about who’s the greatest. They fall asleep while Jesus prays in the garden. One of them betrays him. One of them lops off the high priest’s slave’s ear. Peter denies him not one, not two, but three times. Jesus knows the material he has to work with in this Church project, and somehow thinks it’s worth the effort.)

Praying in the garden: “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me; yet, not my will but yours be done.” There’s such a painful distance between the Father’s perspective and Jesus’ perspective. Nevertheless, let’s notice how Jesus uses his freedom: to forego second-guessing the Father. It dovetails with that line from our Isaiah reading: “I have set my face like flint.” There’s a time for considering multiple options; once the decision has been made it rarely helps to revisit it: being double-minded usually doesn’t end well.

During the arrest: “Then one of [the disciples] struck the slave of the high priest and cut off his right ear.” “I have set my face like flint” could easily translate into tunnel vision; Jesus uses his freedom even to attend to that wounded slave. Jesus uses his freedom—a freedom we all have—so that even on a bad day other people matter.

Those same alternatives, tunnel-vision vs responsiveness to the context, show up at the crucifixion. I am so grateful that I can’t imagine what it would have been like, but there it is: “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.” “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”

Harold Kushner again: “Forces beyond your control can take away everything you possess except one thing, your freedom to choose how you will respond to the situation.” Jesus’ use of that freedom is, frankly, breathtaking. May it nurture our imagination and courage when we find ourselves in situations where we have less control than we’d prefer. So, yes, with the Collect: “Mercifully grant that we may walk in the way of his suffering, and also share in his resurrection.”