Of Palms and the Passion

    The liturgy of Palm Sunday can often seem a little disjointed. If weather permits, Mass actually opens outside the building with the Liturgy of the Palms. The priest reads from the Gospel of Matthew 21:1–11, which presents the triumphal entry of Jesus into Jerusalem. This is a very joy-filled scene that brims with hope and expectation. Crowds gather. Cloaks are laid on the road. Palm branches are waved as the people cry out, “Hosanna to the Son of David!” There is a great moment of recognition where Jesus is welcomed as the coming King and Messiah. However, as the people process into the Church, this joyful Gospel turns out to not even be the primary focus. Instead, the Church proclaims the Passion of Christ in its entirety. The liturgy starts with joyful expectation but ends with the most powerful story every told. 

    At first glance, the triumphal entry and the Passion seem to stand in stark contrast to each other. The beginning is marked by celebration; the other by suffering. One reveals a crowd full of praise; the other reveals a crowd calling for crucifixion. The Church, in her wisdom, holds these two moments together because they cannot be separated. While it may be tempting to focus solely on the triumphal entry of Christ into Jerusalem, this triumph of Christ is not fully understood apart from the Cross.

    Some in the crowds who welcomed Jesus with palms expected a certain kind of Messiah—one who would bring political liberation and earthly victory. Their cries of “Hosanna,” meaning “save us,” were sincere, but their understanding was limited. When Jesus did not fulfill those expectations in the way they had hoped, some turned away while others became bewildered. By the end of the week, some of the same voices that praised Him would call for His death. This dramatic shift reveals how easily human faith can falter when it is based on misunderstanding or self-interest.

    By proclaiming the Passion on Palm Sunday, the Church invites us to confront this same reality within ourselves. We are not merely observers of these events, but are also participants. We, too, are capable of praising Christ in moments of comfort and abandoning Him in moments of difficulty. The liturgy moves us quickly from the joy of the procession to the solemnity of the Passion so that we do not remain in a superficial celebration. Instead, we are drawn into the full truth of what it means to call Jesus “King.”

    The palms we carry symbolize victory, but they point to a victory that comes through suffering. Jesus does not conquer through force, but through self-giving love on the Cross. His kingship is revealed not in power, but in sacrifice. The Passion reading makes this unmistakably clear: the true throne of Christ is the Cross.

    Ultimately, Palm Sunday is not meant to be a comfortable celebration—it is an invitation into the mystery of redemption. The triumphal entry begins the journey, but the Passion reveals its meaning. Together, they show us that following Christ involves both joy and sacrifice, praise and perseverance. As we hold our palms and listen to the Passion, we are asked a crucial question: will we remain with Christ not only in moments of triumph, but also in moments of suffering? True discipleship means walking with Him the entire way from the gates of Jerusalem to the hill of Calvary. Only by walking that path with Him that we can truly share in the victory those palms represent: the victory of love over sin, and life over death.