From “Hosanna” to “Crucify Him”

Palm Sunday places before us a striking contrast. The crowds welcome Jesus with joy – “Hosanna! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!”—yet within days, those same voices will cry, “Crucify Him!” The shift is dramatic and confronting, revealing something deeply human.

The crowd’s reaction is not just a historical detail; it is a mirror. It shows how easily our own hearts can be swayed – how quickly admiration can give way to indifference, or even resistance, when Christ and others don’t meet our expectations. It challenges us to ask: What kind of love do we offer? Is it conditional, dependent on circumstances, moods, or personal benefit? Or is it something deeper, more enduring?

Jesus is the opposite of that fickleness. Even before the Cross, His life was a continual outpouring of unconditional love. He healed without discrimination. He forgave without hesitation. He welcomed those on the margins. And as He enters into His Passion, rather than withdrawing in the face of betrayal or suffering, He offers a love that intensifies, giving Himself completely and freely.

This is Christian love: not a feeling that comes and goes, but a decision to seek the good of the other, even at personal cost. A love that is faithful, self-giving, and steadfast—especially when it is difficult. And if we are honest, this is exactly the kind of love our world is longing for. With so much division, impatience, and conditional acceptance around us, it is becoming easier to love when it is convenient, when people are like us, or when we feel appreciated. But the love of Christ calls us beyond that—to a love that reaches out, that endures, that serves.

This is not just a love to reflect on—it is a love we are called to live. As we move toward Easter next weekend, we have a real and practical opportunity to embody it. Easter, like Christmas, is one of those moments in the year when many people—perhaps family members, neighbours, or those who have been away from the Church for some time—will walk through our doors. For some, it may be their first time in a long time. For others, it may be a tentative step, taken with uncertainty or even hesitation. What they encounter in our parish matters.

Will they experience a community that feels closed in on itself, or one that is open, attentive, and genuinely welcoming? Will they feel like outsiders looking in, or like members of a family being received with joy? Each of us plays a part in answering those questions. A simple smile. A warm greeting. Taking the time to introduce yourself to someone you don’t recognise. Offering assistance, or simply being attentive to those around you—these are small, concrete ways we can embody the love of Christ.

Pope Francis often reminded us that the Church is not meant to be an exclusive club for the few, but a “field hospital”—a place of healing, welcome, and restoration. Our parish, and within it, our churches and communities, exist not just for those who are here every week, but for those who are searching, questioning, or quietly hoping to encounter something more. We do not gather only for ourselves. We gather so that others might come to know the love of Jesus Himself.

This Palm Sunday invites us to reflect on the kind of love we offer—and to recommit ourselves to the way of Christ. Not the way of the crowd, which shifts and changes, but the way of the Cross, which remains steady and true. As we journey through this Holy Week, may we allow Christ’s love to shape our own.

As we prepare to welcome many next weekend, may we be intentional in showing that love in simple, tangible ways so that those who come among us do not just hear about Christ—but encounter Him—alive—in us.

Blessings on your Holy Week – Fr Josh