Procession • Matthew 21:1-11
First Reading • Isaiah 50:4-7
Psalm • Psalm 22:8-9, 17-18, 19-20, 23-24
Second Reading • Philippians 2:6-11
Gospel • Matthew 26:14—27:66
Reading the Gospel together places us right inside the story. We can picture the moment. Jerusalem is crowded because Passover is near.
The city is full of noise and excitement when suddenly the news spreads: Jesus is coming! People pour out of their homes and shops and rush toward the gates.
And there He is; Jesus of Nazareth; entering Jerusalem, not on a warhorse, but riding on a donkey.
It doesn’t look very impressive, yet the crowd loves it. They shout and sing.
They wave palm branches and throw their cloaks on the road, crying out, “Hosanna! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!” They welcome Him like a conquering king returning from battle.
As Jesus enters the city, there is a sense that something significant is about to happen.
History itself seems to be turning. The people must have thought, this is the moment we have been waiting for.
So, what went wrong? How do you go from palm branches to the cross in less than a week? How does “Hosanna” turn into “Crucify Him”?
How does the crowd that welcomes Him as king end up shouting that they have no king but Caesar?
What changed? It’s likely the same thing that led Judas to betray Jesus. Jesus wasn’t the Messiah they wanted.
They wanted strength, spectacle, and power. They wanted a Messiah who looked like a warrior, not a carpenter.
A Messiah on a stallion, not a donkey.
A Messiah in shining armor, not a simple tunic. A Messiah who would crush the Romans, restore political power, and make Israel great again.
Instead, they got a Messiah who talked about loving enemies, forgiving sinners, serving the poor, and losing your life in order to save it.
This Jesus didn’t fit their expectations. He wasn’t flashy enough. He wasn’t aggressive enough. He didn’t play the game the way they wanted Him to.
And when it became clear that He wasn’t going to be the Messiah of their dreams, they turned on Him.
So, they hand Him over to the Romans. They ask Pontius Pilate to do their dirty work.
They ask the empire to save them from their own Messiah by crucifying Him like a criminal, between thieves.
Before we shake our heads at them, however, we should pause and ask a harder question: Are we really any different?
We praise God on Sunday, and then ignore the suffering person placed in our path on Monday.
We pray the rosary, reflecting on the mysteries of Christ’s life, and then fail to notice the mystery of God unfolding in our own lives.
We can remember every detail of a TV show, or a sporting event, but struggle to recall the Gospel we heard proclaimed just a week ago.
Sometimes we even abandon the people who love us for the sake of our own convenience.
We turn away from those we once called our own when their expectations no longer match ours, or when loving them requires sacrifice.
In these quiet ways, we too can act like the crowd that once shouted “Hosanna” and later cried out “Crucify Him.”
We want Jesus, but on our own terms. We want a Savior who comforts us, but not one who challenges us.
We want a God who affirms us, but not one who asks us to change. We want a Messiah who blesses our plans, not one who calls us to take up a cross.
For two thousand years humanity has done this strange and tragic dance with Jesus. We long for Him, yet we push Him away.
We ask where God is, yet ignore Him when He speaks. We complain about God’s silence while filling our lives with so much noise that we could not hear Him even if He shouted.
In that sense, we really aren’t so different from the crowd on Palm Sunday. And yet Jesus knows all of this. He knows the cheers will not last.
He knows the same voices shouting “Hosanna” will soon shout “Crucify Him.” He knows betrayal, abandonment, and suffering are waiting for Him. Still, He rides into Jerusalem.
He does not turn back. He does not change course. He does not harden His heart or seek revenge. He keeps going.
Because this week; the week that begins with palms and ends with a cross; is not a tragic accident.
It is the very reason He came.
The God we encounter this week is a God who chooses love over vengeance, mercy over power, and self-gift over self-preservation.
He does not remain distant from human suffering but enters into it. He even allows Himself to be rejected in order to redeem those who reject Him.
When Jesus’ broken body is taken down from the cross and it seems that all hope is lost, that moment is not the end of the story. It is the very moment toward which all of history has been moving.
Yet the Church does not rush us to Easter.
She invites us to walk through this week slowly; to remain with the tension, the silence, and the cross.
Because only by staying with the cross can we begin to understand the depth of God’s love.
So today, as we hold our palms and listen to the Passion, we are invited to see ourselves in the crowd.
Not to condemn ourselves, but to be honest about our weaknesses and how often we want a Messiah on our own terms.
Above all, we are invited to see Jesus as He truly is: not the Messiah we would invent, but the Messiah we truly need.
Holy Week has begun. Jesus is still entering Jerusalem. The question is not whether He comes, but whether we will follow Him all the way to Golgotha.earts and, little by little, transform the world.t in the Father’s love.
