Homily - The Dangerous Joy of Palm Sunday

Philippians 4:4-9; John 12:1-18

Palm Sunday reveals both our love for Christ and our temptation to abandon Him when He does not meet our expectations. This homily invites us to see ourselves in the Gospel, to embrace the deeper work of transformation, and to follow the King who leads us not to comfort, but to life through the Cross.

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Palm Sunday Homily 2026

For the Jews two thousand years ago, today was the culmination of their long waiting: the Messiah had come to save them.

“Hosanna in the Highest! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord—the King of Israel!”

It is a great day for us as well—the end of Great Lent, the celebration of Christ’s triumphal entry into Jerusalem. We take up the first fruits of spring—palm leaves and pussy willows—not just as decoration, but as a sign of renewal. The winter of waiting is over. Christ has come among His people.

As the Church sings in the Triodion:

“Today the grace of the Holy Spirit has gathered us together,
and we all take up Thy Cross and say:
Blessed is He that comes in the name of the Lord.”

And more than that: He has come into our lives.

This feast is not only about what happened in Jerusalem long ago. It is about the moment when Christ entered into our own story—when we first recognized Him as Lord, when we opened our hearts to Him, when we felt the relief of His presence. For many of us, that moment was marked by healing: the easing of despair, the forgiveness of sins, the restoration of hope.

And so we cried out:

“Hosanna in the Highest—the King has come to save!”

Not just Israel.

Me.

But here is where the Gospel becomes dangerous for us.

Because the people who cried “Hosanna” were not wrong to rejoice.

They were wrong about what that joy meant.

They loved Christ because He met their expectations.
He healed the sick.
He raised the dead.
He gave them hope that their visible, worldly problems would be solved.

Of course they loved Him.

And we do the same.

We love Christ when He meets our expectations:
  when He brings peace
  when He answers prayers the way we want
  when He restores what we think should be restored

We love the Church for the same reason:
  when it comforts us
  when it feels like home
  when it confirms what we already believe

We cry “Hosanna” when Christ—and His Body, the Church—fit into the life we already want.

But then something happens.
Christ moves beyond our expectations.
He refuses to remain what we first loved Him for.

And here the Church gives us words that both celebrate and correct us. In the hymns of this feast, we sing:

“Seated in heaven upon Thy throne
and on earth upon a colt, O Christ God,
Thou hast accepted the praise of the angels
and the song of the children who cried unto Thee:
Blessed art Thou who hast come to call back Adam.”

He comes as King—but not the kind of king we expect.

He comes not to confirm our plans—but to restore Adam.

And this is why Lent has prepared us.

All through the season, in the Great Canon of St. Andrew of Crete, we have been taught how to read Scripture:

“I alone have sinned against Thee.”
“I am the one who has fallen.”

We are not spectators in the Gospel.
We are participants.

So when the crowd turns from “Hosanna” to rejection—
we do not say, “they did this.”

We say:
“I am capable of this.”

We are the ones who welcome Christ when He fits our expectations
—and are tempted to abandon Him when He does not.

And this is not just about Christ in abstraction.  
It is about Christ in His Body—the Church.

We love the Church when it gives us what we expect:
     beauty
     stability
     meaning

But when the Church calls us to something harder—
     to repentance
     to forgiveness
     to self-denial

—we can become disappointed.

Even resistant.
Even tempted to step back.

But that later moment—the moment of disappointment—
is often more important than the moment of joy.

Because that is the moment when Christ is no longer fitting into our life—
He is transforming it.

And this transformation is not accidental.

As Maximus the Confessor teaches, the spiritual life is the purification and reordering of our desires. We begin by loving God for what He gives us—but we are called to love Him for Himself. What begins as expectation must be healed into communion.

We see this even in the Liturgy.
In the Great Entrance, Christ comes among us.
He is received with honor and reverence.

But then a turn is made; the stairs up the amvon to the altar
    are the mountain of Golgotha.
And His throne is revealed—not as a seat of earthly glory—
but as an altar of sacrifice.

And the hymns of this Great Feast prepare us even for this.
We sing:

“Today the Master of creation
and the Lord of glory
enters Jerusalem seated on a colt.
He hastens to His Passion,
to fulfill the Law and the Prophets.”

The One we welcomed in joy—
is already going to the Cross.

This is the truth the crowd did not expect.
And it is the truth we struggle with.

Christ does not come simply to solve our problems.
He comes to transform us.

Not to meet our expectations—
but to purify them.

Not to give us the life we imagined—
but to give us His life.

So today we are given a choice.
When Christ meets our expectations, we rejoice.

But when He overturns them—when He exceeds them—when He leads us through the Cross—
     what will we do then?
     Will we turn away?
     Or will we follow Him still?

Some saw this day as the end—the fulfillment of everything they had hoped for.
But it was not the end.
It was the beginning.
The beginning of a path that leads through suffering, through death—
and into resurrection.

So do not make your heart a place that welcomes Christ only on your terms.
Do not turn your heart into a tomb for the King.
Let it be His throne.

Receive Him not only in triumph—but in sacrifice.
Not only in consolation—but in transformation.

Because He will not remain what we expect.
And thanks be to God—

He will become something far greater.

“Let us also, like the children, bear the symbols of victory,
and cry out to the Conqueror of death:
Hosanna in the highest!
Blessed is He that comes in the name of the Lord.”