4-13-25 “From Palms to Passion”

Click here for worship material

 

“From Palms to Passion”

I want to start something funny that I found an internet site: Did you hear about the donkey that carried Jesus into Jerusalem? Well, he wasn’t seen around Jesus the next day because he went back into town alone. He strutted in, expecting cheers and palm branches again. But no one noticed. He looked around and said, “What happened? Yesterday I was famous!”
A wise old goat said, “It’s not about you, buddy. It’s about who you were carrying.”

This simple, funny story reminds us that in church ministry, we must ask ourselves: Who are we carrying? Are we trying to be the main event, or are we pointing to Jesus? Whatever we do, let’s not forget—we are carriers of Christ, like that donkey. Be humble, be patient, and stay surrendered.

Hosanna! Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord! (Let’s waive the palms!)

We hear these words echo through the streets of Jerusalem as Jesus enters riding on a colt. Cloaks are laid down. Branches are waved. The people are electric with hope and expectation. This is Palm Sunday. It is both a parade and a protest—a celebration and a confrontation.

Today, let’s pause and look closely—not just at the palm branches, but also at our own palms.

What are we holding? What are we offering? What do we expect from Jesus as He rides into the city and into our lives?

The Gospel of Luke doesn’t mention palms specifically, but we know from the other Gospels that they were there. Palms were a sign of victory and peace. In Jewish tradition, palm branches were waved during the Feast of Tabernacles—a joyful celebration remembering the Israelites’ departure from slavery in Egypt. It was a festival of victory and salvation. Palm branches were used as a symbol of triumph, freedom, and the joy of God’s deliverance.

So, as Jesus rides into Jerusalem, the crowd waves palms as if to say: “Here comes the one who will save us! Here comes the king we’ve been waiting for!” They were right to rejoice. But we know something they didn’t: this King does not ride in on a war horse, but a humble colt. He doesn’t come to overthrow Rome, but to overthrow the power of sin and death. They want a sword; He brings a cross. They want liberation by might; He offers salvation through sacrifice.

Think of your hands—your palms. What are you holding today? We wave our palms in worship, but are they open in surrender?

During Lent, we studied The Women of Easter by Liz Curtis Higgs. She writes: “Mary of Bethany had anointed Jesus with her palms; the crowd had adored Him with their palms. Now the guards abused Him with their palms” (p. 125).

Palms—what a powerful image. They can carry a message of victory, or they can be used to reject the very one who brings it.

Today is called Palm and Passion Sunday. Yet often, we focus mostly on the “Palm” part and not enough on the “Passion.” But both are deeply significant. They represent two sides of the same story—just like the two sides of our hands: the palm and the back. It reflects the life of Christ—welcomed with glory, yet sent to die; praised as the Messiah, yet rejected by the crowds. He was crucified, and yet He rose again.

Palm and Passion Sunday also mirrors the lives of us as believers. We may welcome Jesus with joy and praise, and yet at times, we might turn away or betray Him—only to return again, flipping our palms back in surrender.

If you imagine the gestures of the hands—open palms to welcome, the back of the hand to push away—it helps bring this truth into focus. Our journey of faith may include both suffering and joy, both faithfulness and failure. And yet, in all of it, we are invited to return—to raise our palms once again—and follow the Savior who was both crucified and risen for us.

Sometimes, our palms are clenched with control—holding tightly to expectations, to fear, to the way we think things should be. Sometimes, our palms are weighed down—burdened with grief, guilt, or unanswered prayers. But Jesus invites us to open them. To lay down our cloaks, our branches, our very selves.

The people shouted with joy as Jesus entered Jerusalem, but many of them would fall silent—or even cry out “Crucify! Crucify!”—just days later. Their expectations didn’t match His mission.

Are we willing to keep our palms open, even when Jesus doesn’t meet our expectations?

When the Pharisees tried to hush the crowd, Jesus said, “If these were silent, the stones would shout out.” It’s as if creation itself knows what’s happening: the King is coming—not just to visit the city, but to redeem the world.

Can we be part of that chorus? Can our praise persist—even through confusion? Even through the shadows of Holy Week? Today is the turning point. The parade leads to the Passion. The waving palms give way to a wooden cross. But this is how love wins. This is how peace comes—not through power, but through a suffering servant.

Sometimes we feel strong in our faith. But we must remember the warning from the Apostle Paul: “If you think you are standing firm, be careful that you don’t fall” (1 Corinthians 10:12).

As we walk through this Holy Week, let us pray as Jesus asked His disciples to pray in Gethsemane.
Let’s press our palms together in prayer. Hold them tightly all week.

Then, on Easter morning—let us wave our palms in praise.
Let us lift our hands in surrender.
Let us lay down whatever we’ve been clinging to.

And let us walk with Jesus—not just into the city, but all the way to the cross… and into the light of resurrection.

Thanks be to God. Amen.