🌿Palm Sunday and Beholding Christ🌿

A REFLECTION FOR HOLY WEEK

Entry into Jerusalem 12th century, with later modifications

Every year on Palm Sunday, the same cry rises up from the Gospel and from the people gathered in church:

Hosanna! Blessed is He who comes in the Name of the Lord! (John 12:13).

It is joyful, familiar, almost triumphant. Yet it carries a question: what exactly were they recognising in Christ that day? What are we recognising when we greet Him with hymns and branches? Are we proclaiming Him as He truly is — or as we wish Him to be?

The Fulfilment of Prophecy and the Raising of Lazarus

The entry of Christ into Jerusalem is narrated in all four Gospels, but in the Orthodox tradition, it is inseparable from the raising of Lazarus (John 11). The Church links these two events liturgically — Lazarus Saturday flowing directly into Palm Sunday — because they explain each other. Christ raises His friend from the dead and, in doing so, reveals His authority over death. It is that act which causes many to believe — and others to plot His death (John 11:45–53).

When He enters Jerusalem, He does so publicly, fulfilling Zechariah 9:9:

“Behold, your king comes to you; just and having salvation; humble and mounted on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.”

This is not by chance. Christ chooses to enter as the King of Peace, not a military figure. He comes not to claim power, but to surrender Himself.

It comes just after the raising of Lazarus, so there’s this real sense of hope and wonder in the air.

The Contradiction of the Crowd

The crowd’s response is both true and yet, too soon. They greet Him as the Christ, but not with full understanding. They recognise the sign but not the cost of what it means.

The crowd cries "Hosanna!" but soon another crowd, perhaps even the same voices, will cry "Crucify Him!"

The Church does not attempt to resolve this contradiction. It places it before us.

We are not asked to judge the crowd but to recognise our place within it. Palm Sunday is not simply about how “they” responded to Christ. It is about how we do — in our own mixture of belief and confusion, reverence and resistance.

The Hymns and the Meaning of the Feast

The hymns today are beautiful — ones I look forward to every year:

The Troparion connects the raising of Lazarus with the resurrection of all:

🎶“By raising Lazarus from the dead before Thy Passion, Thou didst confirm the universal resurrection, O Christ God.

Wherefore do we also, like the children, carry the symbols of victory and cry to Thee, the Conqueror of death:

Hosanna in the highest!

Blessed is He that comes in the Name of the Lord.”

Here, the Church declares that this feast is not simply about Christ entering a city. It is about the Lord who goes voluntarily toward His Passion, having already revealed His power over death.

The Kontakion hymn expands the paradox:

🎶🎵“Sitting on Thy throne in heaven

and on a colt on earth,

O Christ God,accept the praise of angels

and the song of the children who cry to Thee:

Blessed is He who comes to recall Adam.

He is at once the enthroned God and the humble King.

He who is praised by angels now rides toward suffering.

He who calls Lazarus from the tomb will Himself be laid in one.

And He does all this not for spectacle or sympathy, but to recall Adam — to restore the human being to life.

What happens in Church

In Church, everything feels fresh and alive — decorated with palm leaves and olive branches. In the Orthodox Church these are not just for telling a story. The blessing and distribution of palm crosses and olive branches, the decorating of the church with greenery, the procession during the Divine Liturgy — all of these are not symbolic gestures but the Church’s way of entering the event. We do not merely remember what the crowd did. We join them, deliberately, and are therefore accountable for how we respond.

And yes — 🐟fish is allowed today 🐟

A little bright spot in the fast. I always forget how much I appreciate that until it’s on the table. This relaxation of the fast is not an accident either.

It marks this day as a feast. But not one that delays the sorrow of Holy Week. Rather, it prepares us to face it with clarity.

This is a day of glory, but it is glory already shaped by the Cross.

Palm Sunday is our gateway into Holy Week: joy, expectation, and a quiet shift into what’s coming. Holy Week begins tonight - and we walk into it with branches in our hands and the Resurrection just ahead.

What Palm Sunday teaches us today

Palm Sunday teaches us not to separate joy from suffering, kingship from humility, or proclamation from the Cross. It invites us to recognise Christ for who He is — not only the one who works miracles, but the one who gives Himself for the life of the world.

It also teaches us to examine our expectations. What kind of King are we welcoming? One who conforms to our hopes, or one who reveals a kingdom we could not have imagined?

The crowd cried Hosanna. They were not wrong. But they did not understand.

Perhaps we do not either - not fully. But the liturgy does not demand perfect understanding. It invites faithfulness, attention, and the willingness to follow.

Holy Week begins not in darkness, but in the light of a misunderstood kingship. Christ enters the city. The tomb of Lazarus lies behind Him. His own lies ahead. And we are asked not simply to watch, but to walk with Him.

Palm Sunday declares who Christ is — not in human terms of power, but according to the Scriptures. The Church welcomes Him not with sentiment, but with reverence, clarity, and the knowledge that the road ahead leads through death to life.

[This started as a Facebook post, so a bit rough and ready.]