Palm Sunday or as its known these days as Sunday of the Passion, the beginning of Holy Week. When I think of the word Passion in relation to this event I think of the great passion, the great love of God who was prepared to sacrifice his Son Jesus for us...for ME. That's huge.That love is unimaginable.And all the while Jesus walked to Jerusalem he knew he was walking to his death but he also knew that in doing so it would give us life. As a child Palm Sunday was exciting. The gathering of the palms, the Saturday spent making palm crosses, the bright red liturgical dressings in the church sanctuary, the procession of palms and hymns that raised the roof and we would go home after the service clutching our treasured and so meaningful palm cross but more meaningful I think is the fact that we went home with a 'fire,' a passion,' an excitement that has stayed with me all my life and which is ignited and relived every time I open my prayer book and am faced with a fading,discoloured, aging palm cross, a perpetual reminder of God's love for me. Imagine the scene in Jerusalem when Jesus arrived; palms, excitement, people everywhere to greet him shouting 'Hosanna to the King,' then imagine the heart of Jesus.
Grace and peace from the Lord Jesus Christ.
Anne, servant of the Lord.
The road from the Mount of Olives into Jerusalem
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