Palm Sunday is observed on the sixth Sunday in Lent, and marks the official beginning of Holy Week. Palm Sunday is meant to commemorate the triumphant entry of Jesus into Jerusalem, when, as the Gospels tell us, the people of the city hailed Jesus as their king.
We begin this Mass with the blessing of palms, waving them and singing "Hosana in the Highest! Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord!"
Holy Week Liturgies & Info
Mass begins in the back of the church when the priest reads the account of the people of Jerusalem spreading palms before Christ while singing, “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord. Peace in heaven and glory in the highest.” You might notice, this is basis for the “Sanctus” acclamation we sing at every Mass at the beginning of the Eucharistic Prayer.
During the Mass itself, the first reading is from Isaiah, while the second reading will be from Philippians chapter 2 — the famous Christological hymn that begins: “Christ Jesus, though He was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God something to be grasped. Rather, He emptied himself, taking the form of a slave. … ” This is a very powerful text that has been the basis for much of the Church’s theological affirmations that Christ was truly God and truly suffered as man. The Eastern Churches see this as the beautiful hymn of the Son of God’s “kenosis,” or voluntary “self-emptying” out of love for sinful man.
Finally, the Gospel is read with the traditional practice of the priest and others assuming the roles of Christ and the various figures. The narrative spans the time from the Last Supper to the death of Christ.
One might be curious as to why we read the entire Passion narrative on Palm Sunday. In addition to ensuring that those who won’t be attending the Good Friday liturgy may still hear the Passion, a possible Scriptural foundation may be found in the Gospel of Luke, a few chapters before the entry into Jerusalem. In Luke 13:33-35, Jesus says: “Yet I must continue on my way today, tomorrow and the following day, for it is impossible that a prophet should die outside of Jerusalem. ‘Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how many times I yearned to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, but you were unwilling! Behold, your house will be abandoned. (But) I tell you, you will not see me until (the time comes when) you say, ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.’”
Although this passage is somewhat enigmatic, Jesus utters a prophecy that is reminiscent of the plight of the Old Testament prophets, while also pointing to the fact that he must enter the city to accomplish his mission. This mission, to die as an innocent and sacrificial victim, is the true focus and fulfillment of the triumphant entry into Jerusalem.
In terms of historical development, this feast was known as Passion Sunday in Rome during the days of the early Church, with the focus being on the cross that awaited Christ in Jerusalem. However, in Jerusalem itself, the focus was on a reenactment of the hailing with palms branches. Thanks to the written testimony of such pilgrims as Egeria, who was most likely a fourth-century Spanish nun who kept a journal of the Holy Week liturgies during her visit to Jerusalem, the palm tradition of Jerusalem was brought west, and eventually was blended with the Passion focus, giving us the combination we have today.
It is interesting to note that palms branches used on Palm Sunday are often burned to create the ashes for Ash Wednesday of the following year. There is surely much symbolism in this connection. One might say that the palms are burned to remind us of our mortality and profound need for God’s mercy. After all, the palms are used to hail Christ, but the same people ended up assenting to his crucifixion — and are we not all sinners as well, who also nail Christ to the cross? To use the palm ashes at Ash Wednesday prepares us to enter Lent as a very important season of penitence and preparation to truly welcome Christ into our hearts forever.
By Brian MacMichael, Today's Catholic, 2011