Every spring, as the Christian world turns its eyes toward Easter, the season of Lent reaches its dramatic climax with Palm Sunday—also known in the Anglican tradition as The Sunday of the Passion: Palm Sunday. This day opens Holy Week, inviting believers into a profound time of reflection on Christ’s final days: his triumphal entry into Jerusalem, his suffering, and his journey to the cross. Rooted in the Gospels and shaped by centuries of liturgical development, Palm Sunday masterfully blends exuberant joy with solemn sorrow, calling worshippers not just to remember events but to enter the mystery of Christ’s passion with open hearts.

A Day of Contrasts: From Hosanna to the Cross

Palm Sunday captures the heart of the gospel in its profound contrasts. The day begins with celebration—Jesus hailed as King by crowds waving palm branches and crying “Hosanna to the Son of David!”—and turns toward the shadow of the cross. In the ACNA Book of Common Prayer (BCP) 2019, the liturgy unfolds in two interconnected parts: the Liturgy of the Palms and the Liturgy of the Passion. This structure echoes the Gospel accounts in Matthew 21:1-11, Mark 11:1-11, Luke 19:28-40, and John 12:12-19, where Jesus rides humbly into Jerusalem on a donkey.

Yet within days, the shouts of praise become demands for crucifixion. As my recent sermon, “Hosanna” to “Crucify” (drawing on Matthew 21:1-11), explores, this swift reversal exposes the fickleness of human hearts. The crowd’s enthusiasm fades when Jesus refuses to be the conquering political messiah they expected. Instead, he arrives as the humble King whose victory comes through sacrificial death. The liturgy invites us to step fully into this story—celebrating with the throng one moment and confronting our own inconsistency the next. Clad in red, symbolizing both royalty and blood, the service reminds us that true glory in the Christian life arises through humility and the cross.

This duality is no modern invention. Palm Sunday’s observance traces back to the late fourth century in Jerusalem, where pilgrims like the Spanish nun Egeria described Christians reenacting Jesus’ entry with processions of branches and hymns of “Hosanna.” From Jerusalem, the custom spread eastward and westward. By the eighth century, evidence appears in the West, with blessings of palms and processions becoming established. Over time, the Western Church combined this joyful commemoration with its longstanding focus on reading the Passion narrative on the Sunday before Easter. The result is the rich, two-part liturgy we inherit today—one that holds triumph and suffering in creative tension.

The Liturgy of the Palms: Reenacting the Triumphal Entry

The service often begins outside the church or in a gathering space, weather permitting. The celebrant greets the people, framing the day within the Paschal Mystery:

“Dear brothers and sisters, from the beginning of Lent until now we have been preparing our hearts by repentance and self-sacrifice. Today… we herald the beginning of the celebration of the Paschal Mystery. On this day our Lord Jesus Christ entered Jerusalem and was welcomed as King with palms and shouts of praise. Today we greet him as our King, though we know his path leads to the cross.”

One of the Triumphal Entry Gospels is read according to the lectionary year, followed by the blessing of palm branches. The BCP 2019 prayer beautifully links joy and sacrifice:

“Almighty God, whose most dear Son went not up to joy but first he suffered pain, and entered not into glory before he was crucified: Mercifully grant that we, walking in the way of the cross, may find it none other than the way of life and peace; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.”

The congregation then processes into the church, waving palms while singing hymns such as the ninth-century classic All Glory, Laud, and Honor by Theodulf of Orléans:

All glory, laud, and honor
To thee, Redeemer, King,
To whom the lips of children
Made sweet hosannas ring.

Psalm 118 often accompanies the procession, its cries of “Hosanna in the highest!” filling the air. This embodied movement—from outside to inside—mirrors the biblical crowds on the Mount of Olives and creates a vivid, participatory act of worship that engages all ages.

The Liturgy of the Passion: Turning Toward the Cross

Inside the church, the tone shifts as the service moves to the Liturgy of the Passion. The BCP 2019 appoints the full Passion Gospel—Matthew 26:14–27:66 (Year A), Mark 14:1–15:47 (Year B), or Luke 22:14–23:56 (Year C)—often read dramatically with multiple voices. Customary Gospel responses are omitted for solemnity. Congregations typically sit during most of the reading, stand in silence at Golgotha, and kneel at the moment of Jesus’ death, physically entering the weight of his sacrifice.

Supporting readings deepen the theme: Isaiah’s Suffering Servant songs portray the despised yet redemptive figure; Psalms 22 or 31 echo cries fulfilled on the cross; and Philippians 2:5-11 proclaims Christ’s self-emptying kenosis: “He humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him.”

Theological Depth: The Humble King and Costly Victory

Anglicans have long cherished the integration of Scripture, tradition, and reason, and Palm Sunday exemplifies this balance. Jesus’ donkey ride fulfills Zechariah 9:9, presenting a righteous yet humble King whose reign subverts worldly power. The palms—ancient symbols of victory—are transformed into signs of spiritual triumph won through the cross, not conquest.

The day’s focus on the Passion underscores that this kingship is costly. Our hearts, like the Jerusalem crowd’s, can be fickle: quick to acclaim Christ when convenient, yet hesitant when discipleship demands sacrifice. The liturgy ensures joy and suffering remain intertwined, offering a meditation on true authority found in the self-sacrificing love of Jesus. Blessed palms taken home often return the following year—burned to make ashes for Ash Wednesday—embodying the Christian rhythm of triumph, repentance, and resurrection.

Living Palm Sunday in Our Time

Palm Sunday transcends historical reenactment; it issues a living call to discipleship. In a world of political tension and personal inconsistency, the shift from “Hosanna!” to “Crucify him!” holds up a mirror. The Collect for the day prays:

“Almighty and everlasting God, who, of thy tender love towards mankind, hast sent thy Son… to suffer death upon the Cross, giving us the example of his great humility: Mercifully grant, that we may walk in the way of his suffering, and also be made partakers in his resurrection…”

This prayer shapes the whole of Holy Week. In Anglican parishes, vibrant processions, choral music, and reflective silence make the day tangible. Families often weave palms into crosses as reminders. Despite our wavering hearts, the humble King still rides toward the cross—for us—inviting us to walk with him in trust that his sacrifice leads to true life.

Conclusion

Palm Sunday stands as a threshold into the heart of the Christian faith. From its ancient roots in fourth-century Jerusalem to the rich liturgy preserved and renewed in the ACNA BCP 2019, this day holds joy and sorrow in creative tension. It begins with waving palms and songs of praise and moves into the silence of sacrifice as the Passion unfolds.

Whether processing with branches, listening to the Gospel drama, or examining our own devotion, we are called to move beyond spectatorship and follow the humble King. As Holy Week unfolds—through the Upper Room, Gethsemane, the trial, the cross, and the tomb—Palm Sunday prepares us to proclaim “Hosanna!” while embracing the way of the cross.

In this beautiful tension lies the day’s enduring power. The path of life and peace is, after all, the path of the cross, dying to self—the way up is the way down. As we journey with Christ, may we discover in him—not despite our fickleness, but through his steadfast love—our true victory and eternal hope.