The associated reading for this reflection can be found in your Every Sacred Sunday Mass journal or online here.
I’ll be honest, Palm Sunday makes me cringe. And I’m not just talking about the challengingly-long Gospel reading while wrangling two small children in a pew. As we begin our celebration of Holy Week, the Church in Her wisdom commemorates Jesus’ entrance into Jerusalem with an extra processional reading. We are reminded of His ride on a donkey, fulfillment of the prophet Zechariah, and the crowd’s exultant praise.
“Hosanna, to the Son of David!” And then, mere minutes later in the second Gospel, we hear these same crowds shouting, “Crucify Him!”
I cringe because, unfortunately, I can relate. I may not be explicitly shouting these words, but my actions and behavior betray the same fickleness of heart. One day, one hour, one minute, I am serving and praising and loving the Lord. And then the next, I have turned my back on Him in sin. I choose self-control in an interaction with my children, and minutes later totally lose my temper.
I am no different than these crowds in Jerusalem.
But Jesus is also no different than the same Jesus He was then. And I think too many Catholics join me in a form of Palm Sunday self-flagellation. Jesus, who came riding into Jerusalem amid these cries of praise fully knew what the next few days would hold. He knew that these cries of praise would be turned to betrayal. On Palm Sunday, Jesus knew Good Friday was right around the corner.
But that doesn’t mean Palm Sunday was negated in His eyes. Palm Sunday was still a joyful occasion. It was still a beautiful day giving the praise and honor due Him as our Savior. And Jesus, in His never-changing love and mercy and compassion, can receive my own small moments of praise and victory, knowing full-well there will be moments of weakness near ahead. My upcoming sins do not cause Him to frown at my current acts of love. And they shouldn’t make me either.
Embrace this moment of glory with Jesus. Embrace your moments of glory with Him. You can humbly accept what’s coming on Good Friday, or what might come throughout your day. But this is still an opportunity to proclaim Him as King and Savior of your heart and your life. In moments of victory and failure, He loves us through it all.
Gracie Muraski splits her time between Ohio and Colorado with her husband and children. She is passionate about reading, writing, long-distance running, and intentional conversation. You can find more of her writing here.
