Linda Marie Brown

Yesterday was Passion Sunday, a day those of the Jewish Faith celebrate as the Passover, when the Archangel Uriel “passed over” the houses of the Jews in Egypt, sparing them, and slaughtered the first born males of Egyptian households.

This was written in the Gospels to fulfill the prophecy of Zechariah 9:9. “Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion! Behold, your king is coming to you; he is just and having salvation, lowly and riding on a donkey, a colt, the foal of a donkey.”

I was witness to the celebration of Passion Sunday in of the largest cathedrals in England, perhaps in all of Europe, Yorkminster Cathedral, as the Archbishop had demanded my presence for some alleged offence and I was obliged to leave Lambley Abbey during the most holy time of the year.

Of course, Jesus was not the Messiah that the Jews were waiting for, the one who would free them from their Roman oppressors, and so they called for his crucifixion five days later.

The Pageantry of this event was beyond belief, choirs sang Hosanna as children waved palms while the entire congregation joined in. Priests adorned in the finest cloth of gold presided at the altar. I cannot connect this to the life of a humble carpenter who preached love.

Abbess Isentrude of Lambly Abbey

April, 1455