Sermon for Sunday, March 29, 2026, Palm Sunday

March 29, 2026

By Kristin Berkey-Abbott




The Palm and Passion Narrative in Matthew

Matthew 26:14—27:66



Many of us may remember when we only did Palm Sunday on Palm Sunday and the other days of Holy Week on their given day, unlike today, when we get the whole Passion narrative on Sunday. One traditional approach to this whole story is to talk about how the crowd that is with you on a Sunday can have turned on you by Friday. However, today’s Gospel can be seen more accurately as the story of two different kinds of crowds, a Palm Sunday mob scene and the ones that gather on Good Friday.


Jesus is no stranger to crowds, of course. Anyone who can perform the kind of miracles that he does will attract a following. Have they followed him to Jerusalem? Some of them probably have. After all, many of them didn’t have much of a life before Jesus healed them. The healing miracles often come to those who have been abandoned by everyone in the larger community; it makes sense that they would follow Jesus.


There’s another crowd of people who are likely to be following Jesus all the way to Jerusalem. These are people who have been hoping for a different kind of miracle, the restoration of the Holy City, the deliverance of the Temple from the Roman occupiers. These are people who have been trained by earlier generations, steeped in the words of the ancient prophets, trained to be on the lookout for the Messiah, knowledgeable in the ways that deliverance will come. Jesus has spoken to them specifically in words that seem like a mysterious code to us but would have been blatantly obvious to those who have been waiting for a savior. Those people would be tagging along to Jerusalem, wanting to be at the site of what they assumed would be a final triumph.


The disciples come along too, of course. We think of those 12 men, and we know that at least one of them, Judas, has become disenchanted. But we also know that there were more than 12 disciples. For example, we know that a core group of women followed Jesus, and we read the New Testament differently if we’re on the lookout for them. If we read carefully, we can discern a much larger group of people dedicated to the mission of Jesus.


There were plenty of people in that Palm Sunday crowd, and many of them had no interest in Jesus at all. Many people would come to Jerusalem for the highest of Jewish Holy days, most obviously Jews of all sorts, who would want to celebrate at the most beautiful of worship spaces. There would also be Romans who wanted to make sure that nothing bad happened. Then, as now, a holiday is a time that terrorists would see as a ripe target.


In short, there were several groups gathered on Palm Sunday, all with very different and conflicting interests converging on a very small piece of real estate, much like Jerusalem, or many a capital city, today.


But by Friday, most of them are no longer with him. But it’s not necessarily because they lost faith in Jesus.


To be sure, some of the Palm Sunday crowd have fallen away. But it’s unlikely that they’ve all turned against Jesus so much as it is likely that they were not there for Jesus in the first place or that Jesus has to go where others cannot follow. Even had they wanted to journey with Jesus into the inner sanctums of the ruling parts of society, they would not be allowed. Then, as now, verdicts that can impact so many of us are often made in secret.


The Palm Sunday crowd has dispersed by Good Friday. Some have slipped away in fear. Others have gone to be with their families to celebrate the Passover with a meal, just as we saw Jesus do. Others may have assumed that the final deliverance of Jerusalem has been postponed—yet again. Others may have settled in for the night and missed the arrest and trial. Then, as now, verdicts that can impact so many of us are often made on days and times when the public won’t be watching or when another distraction has been fabricated to pull away our attention.


The Palm to Passion story reminds us of the danger of crowds, but it reminds us that not all crowds are the same. In this case, it was a variety of crowds, each convinced of the righteousness of their purpose. Some thought they had the righteousness of Jewish law on their side. Some thought they had the righteousness of Jesus on their side and others thought they had the righteousness of Caesar on their side. All thought they had God on their side.


This time in history is not the only time people have thought they had God on their side. In fact, people have made that mistake so often that there’s a branch of Philosophy dedicated to making sure that conflicts are handled in a way that won’t put our very souls in danger. Just War Theory has as one of its key components that even when conflict seems inevitable, we should approach it with a spirit of duty to God rather than a self-righteous crusaderism that delights in harm to our opponents and enemies.


Prophets throughout the ages have tried to show us how to live just lives worthy of God, and the first followers of Jesus turned back to their prophets to try to understand what they had experienced, prophets like Isaiah or Zecariah. The Gospel of Matthew contains more references back to the ancient prophets than the other Gospels, as we see in today’s texts. Judas was likely not thinking of the duty to fulfill the prophecy of Zechariah 13: 7 “Awake oh sword against my shepherd, against the man who is my associate, says the Lord of Hosts. Strike the shepherd, that the sheep may be scattered . . ." No, Judas was more likely betraying Jesus out of his own disappointment at the different way Jesus understood his mission.


Judas betrays Jesus with a kiss. Then, as now, we remember that it’s possible to profess a love of Jesus that proves to be empty and hollow. Peter betrays Jesus with his words. He betrays Jesus despite the fact that Jesus has warned him of his tendency to deny the one who gives him life. There are so many ways to betray Jesus, and the Palm to Passion story reminds us that human nature hasn’t really changed.


Some people still gather around Jesus to celebrate his teachings. Some come in anticipation of what will follow, what we hope he will do for us. Some come to learn how to pervert the Gospel, to claim Christ’s power for themselves or to thwart Christ’s authority. Should we find ourselves among one of those crowds, with the clear and present awareness that tensions are increasing and conflicts may be inevitable, let us not enter into that conflict with delight about doing harm to our adversaries, but out of the same sense of duty to God that we have seen modeled by Jesus. Let us pray, as Jesus did, that if it is possible let this cup pass from us. Let us trust that God can make new life out of the darkest days of violence. Even when our saints and shepherds are struck down, let the flock scatter, and once again return even larger, in the hopeful words of Zechariah. Let us trust in the vindication of the Lord, as Isaiah promises. The Psalmist knows that though we may feel as useless as a broken pot, that God has a plan and a purpose—for us and for all of creation. We see sprouts of new life across our Holy Week texts and on Easter, just a week away, we will see the shoots of new life that God has planned—for Jesus, for us, and for all of creation.