Luke 19:28-40 (NIV): After Jesus had said this, he went on ahead, going up to Jerusalem. As he approached Bethphage and Bethany at the hill called the Mount of Olives, he sent two of his disciples, saying to them, “Go to the village ahead of you, and as you enter it, you will find a colt tied there, which no one has ever ridden. Untie it and bring it here. If anyone asks you, ‘Why are you untying it?’ say, ‘The Lord needs it.’” Those who were sent ahead went and found it just as he had told them. As they were untying the colt, its owners asked them, “Why are you untying the colt?” They replied, “The Lord needs it.” They brought it to Jesus, threw their cloaks on the colt and put Jesus on it. As he went along, people spread their cloaks on the road. When he came near the place where the road goes down the Mount of Olives, the whole crowd of disciples began joyfully to praise God in loud voices for all the miracles they had seen: “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord!” “Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!” Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to Jesus, “Teacher, rebuke your disciples!” “I tell you,” he replied, “if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out.”

In many churches that utilize a liturgy, such as the one I am a member of, the normal succession of readings is as follows: Old Testament, Psalm, Epistle, Gospel. Usually the pastor is the one to read the gospel, the Old Testament and Epistle readings are read by a member of the congregation, and the Psalm is said or sung in unison. Palm Sunday is a little different, though.

On Palm Sunday, before the regular readings are read, the Triumphal Entry account is read (Luke 19:28-40 as referenced above, also Matthew 21:1-11, Mark 11:1-11, John 12: 12-15). We go on to sing songs of Hosanna to the Lord, with palms in hand, rejoicing as those in Jerusalem rejoiced when Jesus rode in on a donkey’s colt. The Gospel reading, however, is the story of Christ’s passion. (Matthew 26:14-27:66, Mark 14:1-15:47, Luke 22:14-23:56, John 18:1-19:42) Instead of the priest or pastor reading it as would be usual, it is done as a participatory reading. (This is also done on Good Friday.) People are designated as the different roles in the story, Jesus, the narrator, Pilate, the thieves, etc. Any plural role, such as “priests”, “crowds”, or “disciples” is read by the entire congregation. As this interactive Gospel is read and participated in, we, who not long before were singing Hosanna to the Lord, become the ones crying out “give us Barabbas!” and “crucify Him!” It is powerful, and it is a true reminder of how quickly humanity’s fickle hearts turn against God.

Less than a week between “Hosanna in the Highest!” and “Crucify Him!” How could we forgive the people who turned against Christ in such a horrific manner? I challenge you–do you really think, were you a real participant in this time, would you be different? More than likely both you and I would be just as fickle, just as contrary, as these people we tend to look down upon. Between them and Peter’s denial of Christ, we are apt to say to ourselves that, no, we would never do that, we would never be like this, we would never turn our backs on Christ. But then, what do we do every day? In every sin, in every anger, in every moment of doubt, we turn away from Him.

We should look at the way we are swayed by those around us. As sure as I am that most would not consider themselves one to yell “crucify Him” in the midst of a crowd shouting “hosanna”, how can they or we then be sure we would be one to yell “hosanna” in the midst of a crowd shouting “crucify Him”? The herd mindset is easy to set in & easy to take over, even if we consider ourselves firmly rooted and unmoveable. Pride in our own strength could lead to us falling prey to the mindset of the masses. Circumstantial praise is a danger to fall into–one I think we all can relate to. We praise when things are good or when those around us are praising, but our praises get lost in the midst of our despair. God is worthy of ceaseless praise, and though our broken, sinful selves are not apt to give praise ceaselessly, it is an ideal to strive towards.

Participating in both–the praise and the betrayal of the Lord during the passion–really lets us see two things. First, we see how the sway of public opinion can change in an instant, going from one extreme to another in the span of less than five days. We must be aware of that in this world and not revel in the times our viewpoints are in vogue, nor despair at the times our viewpoints are that of the outcast. If we base our faith and our outlook on the one Truth of Jesus Christ, the ever-changing flow of human opinion is not to sway us. Additionally, this participation shows us how it is our betrayal, our sin, the sin of a single human, that necessitates sacrificial forgiveness. We are part and parcel in the requirement for Christ to die for us. There is no escaping this fact–though we wish to be exempt from this truth, we cannot exempt ourselves: our sin directly requires sacrifice. He would have died for one of us, He did die for all of us–and we betray Him daily as the crowds did that night in Jerusalem.

Let our prayer this Holy Week and always be one of humility, one of steadfastness, one of praise, and one of thanks. We must be humble enough to realize and admit that we stumble, we are subject to the pressure of the people around us, and that we are participants now and then in the crucifixion. We hope to be steadfast in our faith enough to resist the temptation to betray the Lord moving forward. We should praise God in all circumstances for what He has done for us and will do for us, as well as for who He is. And each day we should thank God for his great mercies toward us. This should be our prayer.

Ah, holy Jesus, how hast thou offended,
that we to judge thee have in hate pretended?
By foes derided, by thine own rejected,
O most afflicted!
Who was the guilty? Who brought this upon thee?
Alas, my treason, Jesus, hath undone thee!
‘Twas I, Lord Jesus, I it was denied thee;
I crucified thee.
Lo, the Good Shepherd for the sheep is offered;
the slave hath sinned, and the Son hath suffered.
For our atonement, while we nothing heeded,
God interceded.
For me, kind Jesus, was thy incarnation,
thy mortal sorrow, and thy life’s oblation;
thy death of anguish and thy bitter passion,
for my salvation.
Therefore, kind Jesus, since I cannot pay thee,
I do adore thee, and will ever pray thee,
think on thy pity and thy love unswerving,
not my deserving.
(Johann Heermann, 1630)