Let us begin – In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Good morning, and thank you for joining me for another “A Shepherd’s Voice” episode. Today, I would like to reflect with you again on the idea of intersections – those powerful moments where paths cross, where time and eternity meet, where God’s providence touches our human experience in profound and visible ways.
Palm Sunday, which we will celebrate this year on April 13th, is one very important moment of intersection. It is rich in meaning. On the surface, it seems like a triumph – Jesus enters Jerusalem to shouts of praise and waving palms. The people hail Him as King, laying their cloaks on the road before Him. It is a moment of rejoicing.
And yet, we who know the story know that what lies ahead is very different. The same voices that cry “Hosanna” today will, in a matter of days, cry out “Crucify Him. We want Barabbas.” Palm Sunday is the intersection of triumph and sacrifice. The cheers of the crowd echo toward the silence of the tomb. The palms are not only signs of celebration, but also foreshadow the wood of the Cross.
Today, in this talk, we will explore this sacred intersection – where divine glory meets human suffering, where the road to Calvary begins under a canopy of palms, and where we, too, must find our place between joy and sorrow, celebration and surrender.
The Intersection of Glory and Humility
Palm Sunday brings us to a moment of striking contrast. On one hand, it is full of glory – Jesus is welcomed into Jerusalem as a King. Matthew tells us:
“And a very great multitude spread their garments in the way: and others cut boughs from the trees and strewed them in the way. And the multitudes that went before and that followed cried, saying: Hosanna to the Son of David: Blessed is He that cometh in the name of the Lord” (Matt. 21:8-9).
This is no ordinary entrance. It is a royal procession. The people are quoting Psalm 117, a Messianic psalm, and in doing so, they are recognizing Jesus as the long-awaited descendant of King David – the promised Messiah.
And yet – He comes not on a warhorse, not in chariots or with banners and soldiers – but on a donkey. Not even His own donkey, but a borrowed one. This humble beast of burden stands in contrast to the grandeur we associate with kingship. This is the first sign of the paradox: glory wrapped in humility.
The donkey, though lowly, carries the King of Kings. In this, we see that Our Lord does not separate majesty from meekness. He teaches us that true greatness lies not in power, but in surrender; not in pride, but in humility. He rides into the city of David not to conquer it with force, but to lay down His life within it.
There is also deep symbolism here. In the Old Testament, kings like Solomon rode donkeys in times of peace. So, Jesus riding a donkey signifies that He comes as the Prince of Peace – not to make war with Rome, as many hoped, but to make peace between God and man through His sacrifice.
And yet, how quickly human hearts change. The same crowds that shouted “Hosanna to the Son of David!” on Sunday will, by Friday, be shouting, “Crucify Him!” Their expectations of a triumphant, earthly king are shattered by the Cross, and so they turn on Him.
Here we are confronted with the fickleness of human praise – how easily we exalt what serves us, and discard what challenges us. Palm Sunday reveals the nature of human hearts and the quiet resolve of the Sacred Heart. Christ does not waver. He knows what is coming. He receives their praise, knowing it will turn to scorn, and yet He does this willingly.
So here at this intersection of glory and humility, we are invited to reflect: Do we follow Christ only when He is praised and welcomed, or do we follow Him also when He is rejected and mocked? Are we willing to walk beside Him when the road leads not to thrones, but to crosses?
The Intersection of Prophecy and Fulfillment
Palm Sunday does not happen in a vacuum. It is not just a spontaneous moment of joy – it is the fulfillment of prophecy, long foretold in Sacred Scripture.
The Prophet Zacharias, writing centuries before the birth of Christ, proclaimed:
“Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Sion, shout for joy, O daughter of Jerusalem: Behold thy king will come to thee, the just and savior: he is poor, and riding upon an ass, and upon a colt, the foal of an ass” (Zacharias 9:9).
Christ deliberately fulfills this prophecy. He instructs His disciples to find the donkey and her colt, and He rides them into the Holy City – showing that He is the promised King, not according to the expectations of men, but according to the plan of God.
At this intersection of prophecy and fulfillment, we are reminded of the faithfulness of God. What He promises, He accomplishes – though not always in the way we expect. The Jews were waiting for a Messiah who would conquer Rome, reestablish the kingdom of David, and bring political freedom. But Christ comes to conquer sin, reestablish the kingdom of Heaven, and bring spiritual freedom.
Even the cries of the people – “Hosanna to the Son of David” – echo Palm 117, a psalm sung during pilgrimages to Jerusalem, especially during Passover. The people were welcoming a King during the very feast that commemorated God’s deliverance of Israel from Egypt. Now, they unknowingly welcome the Lamb of God, who will deliver them from a greater bondage.
The palms they waved were symbols of victory and festivity – used in Jewish tradition to celebrate military or religious triumphs. But in this moment, they unknowingly celebrate the beginning of the ultimate victory: the triumph of the Cross.
In Palm Sunday, prophecy and fulfillment kiss. The Old Covenant and the New Intersect. Christ enters not only the earthly Jerusalem but is also pointing us toward the heavenly Jerusalem – where the true and eternal victory will be celebrated by the saints waving palms before the throne of the Lamb, as described in the Apocalypse:
“After this, I saw a great multitude … standing before the throne, and in sight of the Lamb, clothed with white robes, and palms in their hands.” (Apocalypse 7:9)
The meaning of the palms stretches from prophecy to eternity – and we are part of that procession, if we remain faithful.
The Intersection of Public Acclaim and Personal Mission
One of the most striking aspects of Palm Sunday is how public the event is. For much of His public ministry, Our Lord often told people not to speak of His miracles. He withdrew from crowds, avoided unnecessary attention, and slipped away when they tried to make Him king.
But now – suddenly – He allows it. He enters Jerusalem in broad daylight, amid crowds and shouts, fully aware of the consequences. He does not silence the people. When the Pharisees protest and say, “Master, rebuke Thy disciples,” Jesus responds:
“I say to you, that if these shall hold their peace, the stones will cry out” (Luke 19:40).
This is not pride – it is purpose. Christ is fully embracing His mission. He allows the acclaim not because He needs it, but because it is time for His Passion to begin. The public acknowledgment of His kingship is what will hasten His rejection and death. In accepting this acclaim, He is choosing the Cross.
He is not swayed by popularity, nor blinded by praise. He rides forward not to bask in human glory, but to do the will of His Father. This is the intersection of public acclaim and personal mission.
And here, too, is a lesson for us. In our own lives, we may be praised or rejected, applauded or criticized. But the Christian life isn’t about public opinion – it’s about fidelity to our mission. Like Christ, we must remain steadfast. We must be willing to do what is right even when it costs us our comfort, our reputation, or our popularity.
Christ teaches us to keep our eyes on the Cross – not on the crowd.
The applause of the people lasts but a moment. The will of God leads to eternity.
On Palm Sunday, Our Lord steps forward with courage. He accepts the moment of glory, not for His own sake, but to fulfill the mission given Him from all eternity. And so we, too, must ask: What mission has God given me? Am I willing to follow it – even if it leads to suffering?
The Intersection of Devotion and Discipleship
As we reflect on the events of Palm Sunday, it’s natural to ask – where do I fit in this story? Am I among the crowd waving palms? Am I shouting “Hosanna” one day and silent the next? Am I willing to follow Christ not just in joy, but in sorrow?
Palm Sunday reminds us that faith is not merely about devotion – the outward expressions of reverence, the hymns, the processions, the palms. All of these are good, beautiful, and necessary. But they are only part of the Christian life.
The other part – the harder part – is discipleship. And discipleship means following Christ all the way to Calvary.
Many people in Jerusalem that day were sincere. They believed in Jesus. They were moved by His miracles, inspired by His teachings, hopeful that He would change the world. But when the Cross appeared – when suffering came – many fell away.
In our lives, we face the same choice. It is easy to be a Christian in moments of celebration. But true discipleship is proven in moments of trial. Christ does not ask us merely to wave palms – He asks us to take up our own cross.
“If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me.” (Matthew 16:24)
Palm Sunday places us at the intersection of devotion and discipleship. It calls us to unite our outward expressions of faith with an inward resolve to follow Christ wherever He leads.
The palms we carry today should not only be tokens of joy – they should be pledges of fidelity. We are not simply welcoming a King – we are committing ourselves to His kingdom.
And His kingdom is not of this world. It is not built on applause or success or ease – but on sacrifice, humility, and love.
Let us ask ourselves today: Am I content to cry out “Hosanna” from the safety of the crowd? Or will I follow Christ into the temple, to the Upper Room, to Gethsemane, and even to Golgotha?
Palm Sunday invites us to move from admiration to imitation – from cheering for Christ to walking with Him.
Conclusion: The Cross as the Ultimate Intersection
As we prepare to enter the mystery of Holy Week, Palm Sunday stands before us as a threshold – a moment of decision. All the contrasts we have reflected on today – glory and humility, prophecy and fulfillment, acclaim and mission, devotion and discipleship – converge on one central reality: the Cross.
The Cross is the ultimate intersection – where time meets eternity, where justice meets mercy, where death meets life.
It is at the Cross that everything we believe is revealed: the depth of God’s love, the horror of sin, the beauty of redemption. The wood of the Cross foreshadowed by the branches of the palm, becomes the throne of the true King – the place where Christ conquers not by killing, but by dying.
Palm Sunday invites us to look toward that Cross – not as a tragedy, but as a triumph. It is there that all the roads of salvation history meet. It is there that our own lives must be united with His.
As we carry our blessed palms home on Sunday, let them not become mere decorations. Let them remind us of our commitment – to follow Christ with courage, with humility, with fidelity. Let them remind us that we are not only witnesses to His Passion – we are called to participate in it.
May Holy Week be for each of us a journey – not only with our lips, but with our hearts. Let us walk with Christ, carrying the palm in one hand and the cross in the other, until we arrive not just at Calvary, but at the empty tomb and the joy of Easter morning.
Bishop Joseph Strickland
Bishop Emeritus
