For the Burning of Palms On Transfiguration Sunday

Peace, all! We at Gethsemane burn palms on the Sunday before Ash Wednesday, a tradition popular among many denominations and contexts. This year, I am integrating the burning into the front end of the service rather than sort of tagging it on as an extracurricular activity 'after' worship, in hopes that it will be felt more deeply in the context of our designated shared sacred time.

Edit: I have added a Prayer of the Day for Transfiguration 2023 over here. As I was putting together our service, I was going to leave it out, but it felt like a weird thing to omit. My heart wouldn't let me.

Please feel free to use both. Tell me if you do. And please simply cite this page. This is a new request, I know. I'm hoping your citations will help me in the world of professional publishing as I begin to inhabit its spaces.

A quick pointer: If you are reading this on your phone, rotate your phone so that it's in a horizontal position. When you do that the paragraphs should not be wider than your screen.

Many thanks, friends.

Happy Transfiguration.

~ Tom Gaulke

[ image source ]

Burning of the Palms

The assembly gathers outdoors. Dried palms from previous Palm Sundays and small chunks of bark and wood are all appropriate for the fire. At Gethsemane, we will use the words below in place of the Confession & Absolution. Use it where and as you wish. 

Hosanna, hosanna! 

Hosanna, we have shouted. 

Waving Palms. Full of hope. Overwhelmed in joy. 

Alleluia! Alleluia!

“You have the words of eternal life.”

We have confessed. We have proclaimed.

We have cried. "Lord, to whom shall we go?" 

Crucify! Crucify!

This we have shouted. This we shout today.

As we use your words to clobber or to crush,

condemning to death or to hell those you came to save.

And yet, 

curse or praise, green palms or crosses’ wood,

all of these erode way. 

So it is with us.

“All flesh is grass, its beauty like the flower of the field.”

​​The grass withers, the flower fades

but the word of our God will endure forever. (Isaiah 40:6-8).

As we stand before the fire today, O God, with these artifacts–palm and wood–symbols of our praising and condemning, to witness their transmutation into ash and earth, may their dissolution serve as a reminder of the shortness and frailty of our own lives, a sign of our limitations and a premonition of the dust to which we will return.

At this time, all are invited to add palms or wood to the burning bowl. The fire is lit.

May we be reminded, also,

that it is from dust that you make us,

giving us breath and life;

that in the Reign of Love that your prophets announce,

even the driest bones begin to dance;

and that you desire to shape us from clay and ash,

breathing life and dancing

into our worlds, once again. 

Amen.