Today is Palm Sunday. It’s a day that feels strange to me, as we start full of joy and celebration, but we know it’s the doorway into Holy Week, and we know the tragedy that’s coming on Good Friday!
I used to think Palm Sunday was simply the “happy bit” of Easter, before the heartache and pain of events of Good Friday. But the older I get, the more I realise it’s a day that invites us to pay attention to the kind of King Jesus really is, and the hope He brings.
Jesus enters Jerusalem not on a huge war horse, not wearing armour, not wanting to make a huge entrance and draw attention to himself, but on a borrowed donkey. It’s almost unbelievable how ridiculously ordinary it was that He chose to ride in on a donkey. If we were planning a royal entrance, we’d be expected to choose something a bit grander, and more impressive, wouldn’t we!
But Jesus wasn’t trying to make a spectacle of himself, He was instead making a point that is
- A King who comes in humility
- A King who refuses to meet violence with violence
- A King who moves at walking pace
- A King who is close enough to touch
Palm Sunday reminds us that God’s way is usually not the loudest, not the flashiest, and not the quickest. Sometimes hope arrives quietly, riding on the back of something small and unimpressive.
When Jesus rode into Jerusalem, the people shouted “Hosanna!”, which doesn’t mean “hooray,” but “Lord, save us.” They were crying out for rescue, for change, for deliverance, and Jesus was bringing salvation…just not in the way they expected!
They wanted a revolution – He brought redemption.
They wanted Rome overthrown – He came to overthrow sin and death.
They wanted a throne – He chose a cross.
Palm Sunday asks us what kind of Saviour are we I hoping for? And am I willing to let Jesus be the Saviour He actually is, and not the one I sometimes wish for?
What moves me most is that Jesus rides into Jerusalem knowing exactly what awaits Him. The cheers of Palm Sunday will become jeers on Friday. The palms will become thorns. The crowd will become a mob.
And still He rides on. Not because He is trapped. Not because He is powerless. But because love compels Him.
There is a courage in Jesus that is not loud or dramatic. It is resolute. It is love that refuses to turn back.
Palm Sunday invites us to slow down and notice the places where Jesus is quietly entering our own Jerusalems, the messy places, the anxious places, the places we’d rather avoid.
He comes not to condemn, but to save.
Not to overwhelm, but to accompany.
Not to demand, but to invite.
Sometimes His arrival looks like:
- a conversation we didn’t expect
- a moment of peace in the middle of chaos
- a song that catches our breath
- a scripture that lands differently this time
- a friend who shows up at just the right moment
Hope doesn’t always gallop in. Sometimes it walks.
Here’s a short prayer for the coming week
Lord Jesus,
As we step into Holy Week,help us to recognise You when You come quietly.
Teach us to welcome You not only with celebration, but with surrender.
Give us courage to follow You, even when the road leads through shadows.
And let our “Hosanna” be not just a cry for rescue, but a declaration of trust.
Amen.
The Distinct Dot 