This morning’s Gospel reading at the procession is Matthew 21:1–11:

When Jesus and the disciples drew near Jerusalem and came to Bethphage on the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them, “Go into the village opposite you, and immediately you will find an ass tethered, and a colt with her. Untie them and bring them here to me. And if anyone should say anything to you, reply, ‘The master has need of them.’ Then he will send them at once.” This happened so that what had been spoken through the prophet might be fulfilled: Say to daughter Zion, “Behold, your king comes to you, meek and riding on an ass, and on a colt, the foal of a beast of burden.” The disciples went and did as Jesus had ordered them. They brought the ass and the colt and laid their cloaks over them, and he sat upon them. The very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, while others cut branches from the trees and strewed them on the road. The crowds preceding him and those following kept crying out and saying: “Hosanna to the Son of David; blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord; hosanna in the highest.” And when he entered Jerusalem the whole city was shaken and asked, “Who is this?” And the crowds replied, “This is Jesus the prophet, from Nazareth in Galilee.”

This week, to close out Lent, I went to confession — and as usual, had a laundry list of the ways I have failed since the last time I went. This time, for an extra dose of penance (or at least I hope), I chose to do a face-to-face confession with a retired priest visiting our parish for reconciliation. The priest was a gentle and charming soul who wanted to engage in a longer conversation about sin in general and a couple in particular, and made it easy to discuss and repent.

Again, so I hope. Because life seems like a constant and repetitive struggle to remain on the right road, and it also seems as though that pattern has no real end. That’s the way it feels just before going into the confessional, anyway, even if hope returns at the end.

The Palm Sunday Gospel readings strike me as symbolic of that pattern, both forward and reverse. I chose the processional Gospel today for that reason, rather than the full Passion read later at the Mass. Jerusalem’s cycle of betrayal is a large-scale model of our own. And so today’s Passion and especially the processional Gospel seems particularly relevant to our own journey with Christ.

When Jesus came to Jerusalem the final time, He had already spent three years in Judea and Samaria spreading the Gospel of salvation. Thousands of disciples had followed Him through the Holy Land testifying to His miracles and teachings.  His record of miracles had become so well known as to make Him dangerous to the existing power structure, as we see later in today’s Mass. Nevertheless, Jesus enters into Jerusalem with the power of salvation and redemption for the Israelites/Judeans.

And the people of Jerusalem know it — or at least they think they do. They turn out in droves to give Jesus a regal welcome, hailing Him as their king and singing hosannas. In four days after this massive adoration and profession of loyalty, the entire city would turn on Jesus, betray Him, and embrace a murderer rather than set Him free.

The rejection of Christ by Jerusalem specifically related to a fundamental misunderstanding of the Messiah. The Judeans expected a return to a temporal Davidic kingdom with worldly power to drive out the Romans and other occupiers. The Lord wants more for us than that, and even the original Davidic kingdom was created for a much larger purpose than material power. The Lord wanted the Israelites to become a nation of priests and prophets that would spread His word to all nations, with Jerusalem a city of light through devotion to Him that it would bring the entire world to its footstep to learn and love God.

The Old Testament records what actually transpired. The Israelites corrupted themselves for worldly power for their own ends. They abandoned the Lord, and then fell victim to worldly power and destruction. Despite repeated opportunities to repent, the Israelites and Judeans continued to abandon the Lord and seek power through idolatry and sin.

It’s easy to sit in judgment of the people of Jerusalem and the old kingdoms in retrospect, of course. But do we not do something very similar ourselves? After all, we all accept Christ as our Lord and Savior, both at the sacraments and then every Mass. And yet, when it comes time to decide whether to remain obedient to our Lord and Savior or follow our own desires and impulses, we reject Christ and go our own way, trusting in materiality to achieve what only the Lord can provide.

We might even do that within four days of confession, no?

It’s easy to welcome Jesus into our lives; it becomes much more difficult to allow Him to be our Lord and follow Him where He leads us. We remain stubbornly attached to sin, and not just in the form of specific sins but of the basis of all sin: rejection of His authority and seeking to compete with God Himself. That was the sin of Adam and Eve; it was the sin of the Israelite nations; and we see that in the people of Jerusalem in today’s Passion, as they reject the true Messiah because Jesus doesn’t offer them material power.

So it occurred to me this week that I spend my time going back and forth with Christ and salvation, between being a Palm Sunday Christian and a sinner who develops amnesia when it comes to recognizing Jesus and His Word. It is a tiring path, one that leads us to despair and to surrender to sin as an inevitability. And if we try to muscle through that on our own, surrender would be inevitable.

Once again, though, Christ lights His lamp for us. He offers us the sacrament of reconciliation and forgiveness, but even more, He teaches us in the Passion how we keep fighting: through prayer. Jesus prays constantly throughout His ordeal, even on the cross. He recites Psalm 22 (“My God, My God, why have you forsaken me” is a prayer of determination) and asks the Lord to forgive all responsible for His crucifixion. It is through prayer and sorrow for our sins that we can find our way on the path again, even if we stumble repeatedly, and through His grace that we can be redeemed.

We are an Easter people, as a former pastor of mine emphasized in his homilies. That is the promise of Palm Sunday and our reconciliation with sin. Take heart in that, and remember that Christ is the Messiah for our whole lives, not just in the moments of epiphany. That is where our true hope lies.

May His love lift you this Palm Sunday.

The front page image is “Triumphal Entry of Jesus into Jerusalem,” a fresco in the Nativity of the Theotokos Church in Bitola, North Macedonia. Circa late 19th century. Via Wikimedia Commons. 

“Sunday Reflection” is a regular feature, looking at the specific readings used in today’s Mass in Catholic parishes around the world. The reflection represents only my own point of view, intended to help prepare myself for the Lord’s day and perhaps spark a meaningful discussion. Previous Sunday Reflections from the main page can be found here.