Holy Week begins not in stillness, but in movement. This Palm Sunday weekend, we do not simply remember a story, a procession – we join one. We gather with palms in our hands and hope in our voices. We walk together – singing, praying, waving branches and signs lifted high. We cry out, “Hosanna!” a word that is both praise and protest, both blessing and plea: “Save us!”
When Jesus entered Jerusalem – humbly, riding not a warhorse but a donkey – he was surrounded by ordinary people who dared to imagine something different. They lined the streets with garments and branches, offering what they had, making a way with their own bodies. It was an act of both welcome and resistance – a public declaration that another kind of kingdom was possible.
As we bless palms and garments this weekend, we remember that faith is not only something we hold inwardly. It is something we carry into the streets, something we embody together. Our prayers take shape in movement, in song, in community. Our liturgy invites us to walk in solidarity with Christ and with all who long for dignity, justice, and peace – to lift our voices in a hope that refuses to be quiet.
And yet, even as we sing and wave our palms, the story begins to turn…
On Sunday afternoon, we gather again – this time to listen more deeply. Through readings and anthems, the choir leads us into the Passion, and the tone shifts. We hear of betrayal, abandonment, suffering, and love that will not fail.
Holy Week holds all of this together. It invites us to stay for the whole story:
from palms to table,
from table to cross,
from cross to the stillness of the tomb,
and finally, into the surprising light of Easter morning.
But it begins here:
with palms,
with voices raised,
with bodies moving together,
with a fragile, courageous hope.
Where are you being called to walk in solidarity with Christ this week? What does it look like to carry your faith not only in your heart, but into the world?
Come as you are.
Walk as you are able.
Sing when you can.
Join the story.
Much love,
Anna