Palm Sunday, Year C 2025

One of my favorite things to do is watch objectively bad movies. If someone asks me my favorite movie, I have a good and a bad answer - my favorite bad movie is the Jean-Claude Van Damme classic Hard Target. There is a podcast called How Did This Get Made? which is dedicated to watching, mostly enjoying, and discussing these bad movies. One of the complaints they consistently have about the movies they discussed are poorly managed tonal shifts. A change in the emotional atmosphere that, when well-done, can be really powerful but when done poorly leaves the audience confused about what the film is trying to communicate.

Palm Sunday is the Sunday of crazy tonal shifts in our liturgy. There’s all sorts of great Palm Sunday music that focuses on the triumphant entry of Jesus into Jerusalem, but by the Gospel lesson the crowd is already shouting, “crucify him!” There’s even an option to stop in the middle of the jubilant palm procession to pray the following prayer, which is traditionally prayed on Fridays throughout the year at Morning Prayer: 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.

Some would argue that the tonal mess that Palm Sunday can feel like is part of the genius of the Palm Sunday liturgy: the blend of the welcome we give Jesus and at the same time we are among those who shout “crucify”. It encapsulates our ability to say “yes” and “no” to God at once.

In the words of liturgist James Farwell, “the Palm Sunday liturgy is a eucharistic service of profound honesty: it provides the occasion for the faithful to bring to consciousness the uneasy coexistence between their celebration of Christ’s ministry and their reluctance to follow in the same path.” Palm Sunday calls us to a recognition that we live in that tension between who we can be at our best and at our worst; between the people shouting “Hosanna!” who we hope we are and the people shouting “Crucify him!” who we fear we are. Palm Sunday reminds us that “Hosanna!” and “Crucify him!” are shouted by the same people. Palm Sunday gives us humility that when we are shouting “Hosanna!”, we recognize that we are not always doing what it is that we know we ought to do to glorify Christ and be his body in the world. It also gives us hope that when we are shouting “Crucify him!”, we recognize that there is always hope for redemption and that none of us are judged solely by our actions in our weakest moments.

The most compelling villains are villains who have a point. Returning to the bad movie theme, Mr. Freeze in Batman and Robin is a good example: Mr. Freeze was originally a scientist working to develop a cure for a disease, hoping to heal his wife. After a lab accident, he was rendered unable to live at average temperatures and forced to wear a cryogenic suit powered by diamonds for survival, which is the original reason Batman is after him: he’s stealing diamonds. And with all of the problems with Batman and Robin, the scientist played by Arnold Schwartzenegger isn’t one of them because he manages to be a sympathetic figure. Most of us aren’t entirely good or evil. One dimensional villains who proclaim “the power of evil is stronger than that of good” are boring and unrealistic. Most people aren’t motivated by something as simple as loving evil.

Palm Sunday reminds us that we are multi-dimensional humans who are capable of great good and of great sin. And we, like the same people who shouted “Hosanna!” and “Crucify him!” over 2,000 yrs ago, are called to also proclaim, “The Lord is risen!” Amen.