Palm Sunday Reflection

“The disciples went and did as Jesus had instructed them. They brought the donkey and the colt and placed their cloaks on them for Jesus to sit on. A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, while others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. The crowds that went ahead of him and those that followed shouted,

‘Hosanna to the Son of David!’
‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!’
‘Hosanna in the highest heaven!’

When Jesus entered Jerusalem, the whole city was stirred and asked, ‘Who is this?’” Matthew 21:6–10

Palm Sunday, as we enter Holy Week, has always been one of my favorite Sundays of the year. As a child, getting to walk into the sanctuary waving palm branches made me feel connected to the story in such a tangible way.

But this year felt different.

As we sang “Hosanna, Hosanna in the highest,” I felt a pit in my stomach. For the first time, I truly felt the weight and the gravity of Palm Sunday.

The same crowds waved their palms in unity, full of hope for an earthly king, a conqueror who would come in power and change their circumstances. Palms were a sign of adoration and insurrection, a symbol of both honor and expectation.

And yet I cannot help but wonder what Jesus felt as He rode into the city.

He knew.

I can only imagine the emotions swirling that week. Lazarus, a living reflection of what was to come. Mary anointing Jesus’ feet in surrender and devotion. Martha faithfully serving. All of it pointing to what was ahead.

He knew the descent that was coming in the story. He knew that in just a few short days the cries of “Hosanna” would turn into “Crucify Him.” Two extremes in one week.

How quickly the palms would change into angry fists, and voices would shift from adoration to rage.

And I have to ask myself, if I were in that crowd, who would I have been?

My sin would nail Him to the cross just days later. My sin is the reason He went.

Today I worship with a new reverence.

Everything shifts this week. And yet, it was always part of the plan.

He knew. And He came anyway.

Love carried Him all the way to the cross for me and for you.

While our sin held Him there, His love never let go.

May we not rush past this week, but sit in the weight of it, the sorrow and the beauty, the sacrifice and the hope.

Happy Holy Week, 
Radiant Hope Collective