Palm Sunday (Year A) | 29 March 2026
- CADEK-Europe-Laity

- Mar 26
- 10 min read
Updated: 2 days ago

Introduction
Today, we walk a path that feels like a contradiction. We begin with the festive waving of palm branches and the electric energy of a city welcoming a King. But as the liturgy unfolds, the "Hosannas" fade into the heavy silence of Gethsemane and the jarring shouts of "Crucify Him."
The readings from Matthew, Isaiah, and Philippians are not merely historical accounts; they are a map of the heart of God. We see a King who does not demand a throne but chooses a donkey; a Servant who does not hide from spit and disgrace but sets His face like flint; and a Saviour who empties Himself of divinity to fill us with grace. As we enter this Passion narrative, we are invited not just to watch the drama, but to ask ourselves: Where do I stand in this crowd? Am I ready to follow a King whose crown is made of thorns?
Matthew 21: 1-11
In the passage, we witness a scene of grand irony. We see a royal procession, but there are no chariots. We hear the shouts of a welcoming city, but the King arrives on a "beast of burden." This is the Triumphal Entry; a moment where the expectations of man collided with the humility of God.
The Meaning: A Subversive Royalty
The core of this text lies in the fulfilment of Zechariah’s prophecy. Jesus wasn't just looking for a ride; He was making a theological statement. In the ancient world, a king arriving on a horse signalled war and conquest. A king arriving on a donkey signalled peace.
By choosing the foal of a donkey, Jesus was identifying Himself as the "Prince of Peace." He was reclaiming the throne of David not through the shedding of others' blood, but by preparing to shed His own. He entered Jerusalem to die for the very people who were currently cheering for Him.
Lessons from the Road to Jerusalem
The Power of "The Lord Needs It": Consider the disciples going to find the donkey. They were sent on a task that likely felt awkward untying someone else's property. Yet the simple phrase "The Lord needs them" was enough.
God often chooses to use the ordinary things we own: our time, our unique talents, or even our "donkeys" to carry His presence into the world.
The Fickleness of the Crowd: The city was "stirred up," asking, "Who is this?" The crowds shouted "Hosanna" (Save us, now!). However, many were looking for a political liberator to overthrow Rome, not a spiritual Savior to overthrow sin.
It is easy to worship Jesus when the crowd is cheering, but the true test of faith is whether we stay at the foot of the Cross when the shouts of "Hosanna" turn to "Crucify Him."
A Story
There is an old legend about the donkey that carried Jesus. The story goes that after the procession was over, the donkey walked away with a newfound sense of pride, thinking the palm branches and cloaks were for him. He forgot that without the King on his back, he was just a beast of burden.
This serves as a powerful metaphor for our own lives. When we do great things for our community or our faith, it is easy to start thinking the "palm branches" of praise are for us. The donkey’s job was simple: to carry Christ. When we focus on carrying His love and message rather than seeking our own glory, we fulfil our highest purpose.
"Who is This?"
The city asked, "Who is this?" and the crowd replied, "The prophet Jesus." But as we enter our own "Jerusalems" today: our workplaces, our homes, our struggles, the question remains for us. Is He just a historical figure? A good teacher? Or is He the King who is humble enough to meet us exactly where we are, riding into the messy parts of our lives to bring peace?
Let us lay down the "cloaks" of our pride and the "branches" of our agendas, making a path for the King who conquers through love.
Isaiah 50: 4 - 7
In Isaiah, we encounter the "Third Servant Song." While historically these words described the mission of Israel or a prophetic figure, for us, they serve as a profound blueprint for the life of Christ, and the life of anyone who seeks to follow Him. It is a text about the intimacy of listening and the steel of endurance.
The Meaning: The Rhythms of Grace
The passage moves from the inner life (the ear) to the outer mission (the tongue) and finally to steadfast suffering (the face).
The Awakened Ear: The Servant doesn't speak out of his own cleverness. His wisdom is "morning by morning" work. He is a professional listener before he is a professional speaker.
The Sustaining Word: The purpose of this divine education isn't intellectual pride; it is to "sustain with a word him who is weary."
The Non-Rebellious Heart: When the message becomes difficult: leading to "striking," "spitting," and "disgrace", the Servant does not retreat. He sets his "face like a flint." Flint is one of the hardest stones; it suggests a resolve that cannot be shattered by the opinions or violence of the world.
Lessons for the Modern Disciple
The Discipline of the Morning: We cannot give what we have not received. If we find ourselves "weary" or unable to help others, we must ask: Are we allowing the Lord to "awaken our ear" before we start our day?
True ministry to others begins in the silence of our own prayer.
Vulnerability as Strength: The Servant offers his back and his cheeks. He doesn't hide his face. In a world that tells us to build walls and strike back, the prophet shows us that there is a divine power in remaining open and vulnerable when we are grounded in God's help.
The Difference Between Pain and Shame: The text says he was struck and spat upon, yet he says, "I have not been disgraced."
The world can cause us pain, but it cannot cause us shame if our identity is anchored in the Lord. Disgrace is an internal state; if God is our helper, we remain dignified even during trial.
A Story
Consider the story of a person standing up for what is right in a difficult workplace or a fractured family. Perhaps they speak a truth that makes them unpopular. They are met with cold shoulders (the modern "spitting") or harsh words.
Initially, they want to "turn backward" and remain silent to keep the peace. But then they remember the "morning by morning" whispers of God’s justice. They decide to stay. They don't become bitter or loud; they simply become steady. Like a rock in a rushing stream, they don't move. Their strength doesn't come from their own ego, but from the quiet confidence that "the Lord God helps me."
When we set our faces like flint, we aren't becoming hard-hearted; we are becoming immovable in our love.
As we look at the image of the Servant, who we know as Jesus, let us ask for the grace to have an open ear and a face set like flint, trusting that because God is with us, we shall never truly be put to shame.
Philippians 2: 6 - 11
This passage from Philippians is often called the Carmen Christi or the "Hymn of Christ." It is one of the most profound pieces of theology in the entire Bible, yet it wasn't written just for scholars to debate; it was written to show us how to live. It describes a "U-shaped" journey: a descent into humility followed by a divine exaltation.
The Meaning: The Self-Emptying God
The Greek word used here is kenosis, which means "emptying."
The Upward Grasp vs. The Downward Gift: Unlike the first Adam, who tried to "grasp" at being like God in the Garden, Jesus, who was already God did not cling to His status. He let go of the "form of God" to take on the "form of a servant."
The Lowest Point: Paul emphasizes that Jesus was obedient "even to death on a cross." In the Roman world, the cross was the ultimate "un-making" of a person. It was designed to strip a human being of every ounce of dignity. Jesus didn't just become human; He became a human at the very bottom of the social and legal ladder.
The Vindication: Because Jesus went to the lowest place, God raised Him to the highest. The "Name above every name" isn't a trophy for power; it is the crown of perfect, self-sacrificial love.
Lessons for the Upwardly Mobile
The Mindset of Christ: Paul introduces this hymn by saying, "Have this mind among yourselves." We often spend our lives trying to "fill" ourselves: with status, possessions, or being "right."
True Christian maturity is measured not by how much we have gained, but by how much we have "emptied" ourselves for the sake of others.
The Geometry of Grace: In our world, the way "up" is to climb over others. In the Kingdom of God, the way "up" is "down."
If you want to be close to God, look for the lowly places. He is found among the servants, the broken, and the humble.
The Power of a Name: We bow at the name of Jesus not because He is a tyrant who demands it, but because His love is so overwhelming that it eventually wins every heart.
A Story
There was once a world-renowned conductor who was asked which instrument was the most difficult to play. He thought for a moment and said, "The second flute." He explained, "I can get plenty of first flutists, but to find someone who can play second flute with enthusiasm; that’s a problem. And if we have no second flute, we have no harmony."
Philippians 2 is an invitation to play the "second flute." It is the story of a God who was willing to take the "second chair" of humanity, to be a servant, so that the harmony of heaven and earth could be restored. Many of us are exhausted because we are fighting to be "First." We find peace the moment we are willing to "empty" our need for the spotlight and simply serve the music of God's Kingdom.
Matthew 26: 14-27:66
Matthew’s account of the Passion is a sprawling, gut-wrenching masterpiece of shadows and light. It begins in a dark room with a betrayal and ends in a dark tomb with a seal. In between, we see the "King of the Jews" stripped of everything: His friends, His clothes, His legal rights, and eventually His life.
The Meaning: The Obedient Son
In Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus is portrayed as the Righteous Sufferer. Unlike the other figures in the story who are frantic: Judas plotting, Peter swinging a sword, Pilate washing his hands; Jesus remains the calm centre of the storm.
The Cup of Gethsemane: Jesus’ agony in the garden is not a moment of weakness, but of ultimate strength. He asks for the cup to pass, yet submits His will. He shows us that holiness isn't the absence of fear; it is the presence of obedience despite fear.
The Trial of Truth: Before the Sanhedrin and Pilate, Jesus is largely silent. Matthew highlights this silence to fulfil the prophecy of the "lamb led to the slaughter." His silence judges His accusers more loudly than any defence could.
The Abandonment: On the cross, Jesus cries out, "Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?" (My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?). He is entering into the absolute furthest point of human experience; the feeling of being forgotten by God, so that no human being will ever have to be truly alone again.
Lessons from the Passion
The Danger of "I Never": Peter says, "I will never fall away." Judas says, "Is it I, Rabbi?" We often overestimate our own strength.
The Passion warns us that the line between a disciple and a denier is thinner than we think. We stay faithful not through our own willpower, but by staying close to the Master.
The Cost of "Thirty Pieces of Silver": Judas sold his soul for the price of a slave. We do the same whenever we trade our integrity, our kindness, or our faith for temporary security or status.
What are the "thirty pieces" in your life that tempt you to turn away from Christ?
The Testimony of the Outsider: Ironically, it isn't the religious leaders who recognize Jesus at the end; it is the Roman Centurion who sees how He dies and says, "Truly this was the Son of God!"
Sometimes those on the "outside" of faith see the truth more clearly than those who have grown comfortable in the pews.
A Story
Consider Simon of Cyrene. He was just a man coming in from the country, likely tired from a long day’s walk. Suddenly, he is grabbed by soldiers and forced to carry the cross of a condemned criminal. He didn't volunteer; he was "pressed into service."
Yet tradition tells us that this forced encounter changed his life and the lives of his sons. Simon’s story is the story of many of us. We don't choose our crosses: the sickness, the grief, the job loss; they are often thrust upon us. But in carrying that weight "behind Jesus," the burden that was meant to be a curse becomes a means of salvation. Simon went from a bystander to a participant in the redemption of the world.
The Sealed Tomb
The reading ends with a heavy stone and a guard at the tomb. To the world, it looked like a definitive "The End." The religious leaders were satisfied; the Romans were relieved; the disciples were hiding.
But the Passion according to Matthew reminds us that God’s greatest work often happens in the dark, under the surface, behind the sealed stone. When it feels like hope is buried, remember that we worship a God who knows the way out of a grave.
Conclusion
We leave today with the image of a sealed tomb and a world that seems to have won. We have seen the "Son of David" betrayed by a kiss, denied by a friend, and abandoned by those He came to save. Yet, in the "kenosis"; the self-emptying of Jesus, we find our own fullness.
The story of the Passion reminds us that no valley is too deep for God to reach, and no suffering is so great that it cannot be redeemed. We have heard the Centurion’s confession: "Truly this was the Son of God."
As we go forth, may that confession be ours. May we carry the "Mind of Christ" into our week, looking for the weary who need a sustaining word and the lowly places where the Prince of Peace is still at work. The stone is rolled into place for now, but we wait in the quiet confidence that the King who entered Jerusalem on a donkey is the same Lord who will eventually lead us all into the light of the Resurrection.
We’re so glad you joined us this Sunday. We hope the homily offered you some fresh perspective. See you again next week!
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