Palm Sunday of the Lord’s Passion

April 5, 2020

Matthew 21:1-11 and Matthew 26:14—27:66

Today, we are celebrating the Palm Sunday of the Lord’s Passion. In many countries, today is a big celebration where people excitedly throng the Church. I remember when I was still studying in the Philippines, the faithful would pack almost all the 11 masses in our Church, Santo Domingo Church. It was a festive celebration as many people were carrying palm branches of a coconut tree.

However, something bizarre takes place this year. The churches in many countries are temporarily closed, the faithful are asked to avoid gathering, including the Holy Eucharist, and people are confused about what to do with the Celebration of the Holy Week. A parishioner once painfully asked me, “Father, since the Church is closed, what shall I do with the palm branches I have?” Surely, there is always a pastoral solution to any problem that the faithful have. Yet, the real issue is not so much about how to clear up the confusion, but how to deal with the deep pain of losing what makes us Catholics. No palm in our hands, no kissing of the crucifix, and no Body of Christ.

Reflecting on our Gospels’ today, we are somehow like the people of Jerusalem who welcomed Jesus and shouted, “Hosanna!” The Hebrew word “Hosanna” literally means “save us!” or “give us salvation!” It is a cry of hop `e and expectation. We need to remember that the people of Israel during this time was were under the Roman Empire’s occupations. Commonly, lives were hard and many people endured heavy taxation under severe punishment. Many faithful Jews were anticipating the promised Messiah, who like David, would restore the lost twelve tribes of Israel, deliver them from the grip of the Romans and bring them into a glorious kingdom. They saw Jesus as a charismatic preacher, miraculous healer, and nature conqueror, and surely, Jesus could be the king that would turn the Roman legions upside down. We need to remember also the context of the Gospel that in few days, the Jewish people would celebrate the great feast of Passover, and thousands of people were gathered in Jerusalem. With so much energy and euphoria, a small incident could ignite a full-scale rebellion. And Jesus was at the center of this whirlpool.

Jesus is indeed a king and savior, but He is not the kind of king that many people would expect. He is a peaceful king, rather than a warmonger, that is why He chose a gentle ass rather than a strong horse. His crown is not shining gold and diamond, but piercing thorns. His robe is not purple and fine-linen, but skin full of scars. His throne is neither majestic nor desirable, but a cross.

We may be like people of Jerusalem, and we shout “Hosanna!” to Jesus, expecting Him to save us from this terrible pandemic, to bring our liturgical celebrations back, and to solve all our problems. However, like people of Jerusalem, we may get it wrong. Jesus is our Savior, but He may save us in the way that we do not even like.

The challenge is whether we lose patience and dismiss Jesus as a preacher of fake news, rather than good news, or endure the humiliation with Him; whether we get discouraged and begin to shout, “Crucify Him!” or we stand by His cross. The challenge is whether we get bitter and start mocking the church authorities for their incompetence handling the crisis or we continue to support them in time of trial; whether we are cursing the grim situations or we begin to spread the light however small it is.

Why does God allow us to endure this terrible experience, or to be more precise, why does God allow Himself to endure this terrible experience? Let us wait at the Good Friday.

Valentinus Bayuhadi Ruseno, OP