Dig Deeper into Sunday’s Gospel: Read Luke 19:28–40; Luke 22:14—23:56
And just like that, Palm Sunday is upon us—the final week of Lent is here.
I want you to pause for a minute and think about how your Lent went. Do you feel as though you succeeded, a sense of accomplishment in the spiritual disciplines you embarked upon? Do you feel as though you miserably failed, disappointed at promises not kept, a season not entered into as fully as you'd hoped?
Either way, I want you to know this: your holiness isn't measured by your performance.
Our path to Calvary is not about the boxes we did or didn't check, it's not about proving our devotion. It's about our heart—the state it's in right now, and the places we are willing to let Jesus take it.
Whether your Lent was picture-perfect or a beautiful mess, whether you maintained every commitment or stumbled and fell along the way, I invite you to lay it all down, right here, right now. All the "should haves" and "could haves," that sense of guilt, or even that sense of victory in finally doing Lent "right"—can you gather it all up and place it at His feet?
Because this week, more often than not, we won't see perfect devotion on display; we'll see the frailties of the human heart.
In Sunday's opening gospel, the very people who lay down their cloaks as signs of homage, wave palm branches, and sing the Lord's praises (Luke 19:36–38), will be the very ones demanding Christ be crucified.
Why this dramatic shift? What happened? Pope Francis offers us insight:
They were following an idea of the Messiah rather than the Messiah. They admired Jesus, but they did not let themselves be amazed by him … to admire Jesus is not enough. We have to follow in his footsteps, to let ourselves be challenged by him; to pass from admiration to amazement.[1]
Later, in the passion narrative, we see this same struggle with Jesus' closest friends. Even after Jesus shares that this will be His last meal before He suffers, after He prophesies His betrayal, the disciples fall into a petty and prideful debate about who among them is the greatest.
Peter, full of confidence and admiration, declares that He would die for Jesus, but hours later, overtaken by fear, he denies even knowing Him.
In the garden, when Jesus is in agony, He returns to find the disciples who had accompanied Him to be asleep.
He is betrayed with a kiss.
He is reviled and rebuked, mocked and scorned, condemned, judged, and killed.
Yet through it all, He loves.
Friends, His mercies are new every morning (Lamentations 3:22–23). And on this morning, He offers you the chance to begin again. Will you take it? Will you turn your heart to Jesus and ask Him to make this Holy Week different, to make you different?
Because Lent was never meant to be about how well we performed over the past six weeks, it was always about our hearts and turning back, perhaps one thousand times, to Jesus.
Through every moment of these coming days—the waving of the palms to the shouts of “crucify Him,” the washing of the feet to the agony of the cross, the stillness of the tomb to the glory of Easter morning—may we fix our eyes on Him and be moved from admiration to amazement.
Know I am praying for you this Holy Week.
Food for thought or journaling . . .
What is God inviting you to lay down at His feet this Holy Week?
Lord, open my eyes this Holy Week so that I see You as though for the first time. Let me be amazed by You. Give me the grace and joy of being astonished by Your love. May I lift my eyes to the cross and know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I am precious and beloved and that You are truly the Son of God. And may this knowing transform the way I live.
[1] Pope Francis, "Celebration of Palm Sunday of the Passion of the Lord: Homily of His Holiness Pope Francis, March 28, 2021," The Holy See, (accessed March 31, 2025), https://www.vatican.va/content/ francesco/en/homilies/2021/documents/ papa-francesco_20210328_omelia-palme.html.
