By Ken Canedo

How quickly the crowd turned against him! On Sunday they were shouting at the top of their lungs, "Blessed are you! Hosanna in the highest!" Now, just five days later, there were cries of "Crucify him!" Yet, this man had done nothing wrong.

The first day of Holy Week perfectly captures this dichotomy. Originally called "Palm Sunday," various liturgical publications now refer to it as "Palm-Passion Sunday," "Passion Sunday (Palm Sunday)," or "Palm Sunday of the Lord's Passion." So, what exactly do we celebrate on this day?

By whatever designation, Palm Sunday is the final Sunday of Lent and the beginning of Holy Week. Although not a part of the Triduum of Holy Thursday, Good Friday and Holy Saturday's Easter Vigil, Palm Sunday certainly points to those three days of commemoration of the Lord's passion, death and resurrection. Indeed, for the many people who will not participate in the Triduum, Palm Sunday is their only liturgical celebration of Christ's suffering and death. It affords them an opportunity to complete their Lenten preparation by placing the following Sunday's Easter event within the proper context of Jesus' ultimate sacrifice.

I strongly encourage you to participate in one or all of the Triduum liturgies. These are the most important liturgical celebrations of the year, and I will write more about them in a few days. But if you do attend the Good Friday liturgy, please do not think of it as a rehash of Palm Sunday. The suffering and death of Jesus is too rich and too profound to limit to one day of remembrance. Each has its own emphasis, its own spiritual message for our prayerful consideration.

As mentioned earlier, Palm Sunday is a day of contrast. There is a tangible joy at the beginning of the liturgy, with the celebrative red vestments, the palm branches, and the procession of the assembly. We are immediately placed in an atmosphere where we can't help but recall what it might have been like to be there in Jerusalem and share in the excitement of the crowd as Jesus entered the holy city. Here was the man that everyone was talking about: the profound teacher who captivated the imagination with his stories of the kingdom of God; the healer who cured the sick and raised the dead. Here was Jesus in person, and the people gave him a spontaneous and triumphant welcome. Hosanna in the highest!

But this joy is soon stifled as the liturgy progresses. The second reading from Paul's letter to the Philippians helps put our sung hosannas in perspective:

He humbled himself, becoming obedient to the point of death,
even death on the cross.

The reading of the Passion story sends our earlier joy to a thudding crash. Once again we hear of Jesus' betrayal by a trusted friend; his bloody suffering at the hands of Pontius Pilate and the Roman soldiers; his humiliation as he carried his cross through the same city that cheerfully welcomed him just a few days before. Beaten, nailed to the wood, and placed high for all to see, Jesus offered no resistance. His pain was real, his death final. The image of a dead man on the cross confronts us and challenges us.

What do I want from Jesus? Am I captivated by his celebrity, by his power to do something for me? Like the crowds in the Passion story, am I easily swayed by popular opinion when it comes to the message of Christ? What does the death of Jesus teach me?

Jesus is my Lord, my God, my all. I strive to deepen my relationship with him, and yet I can be so resistant to his invitation to follow him because that call may involve sacrifice and suffering. Must I die to myself in order to follow Christ? Instead of expecting something from Jesus, am I willing to simply give my life in service to him?

So much to ponder! I sign off with this song by my friend Tom Booth. May Palm Sunday be the start of a whole week of prayerful reflection for everyone.

I Will Choose Christ