By Jenny Kraska

Palm Sunday places us at the threshold of mystery. We begin with palms raised high, echoing the cries of the crowd: “Hosanna to the Son of David!”

Yet, almost without warning, the liturgy leads us into the solemn reading of the Passion. The same voices that hailed Christ now turn against Him. The joy of the procession gives way to the weight of the Cross.

In Matthew’s Gospel account of the Passion, we encounter not only the suffering of Christ, but the suffering that runs through every age. Betrayal, fear, injustice, violence – these are not confined to the pages of the Gospel. They unfold in every time and in every life. The shadow of the Cross looms not only over Calvary, but over our world today.

We feel that shadow in a particular way now. As nations stand on the brink of continued conflict and war threatens once more in the Middle East, the uncertainty of our times presses heavily upon us.

We see division among peoples, the suffering of the innocent, and the terrible cost of human pride and power. Like the disciples in Gethsemane, we are tempted to fear, to confusion, even to despair.

Yet, Palm Sunday reminds us that Christ does not turn away from the darkness.  He enters into it fully. In the garden, He trembles. Before Pilate, He stands in silence.

On the Cross, He cries out in abandonment. Jesus does not explain away suffering—He embraces it, transforms it, and redeems it.

This is the heart of our faith: the Cross is real. Its weight is undeniable. But it is not the final word.

We are an Easter people. As we stand at the beginning of Holy Week, we do so with a quiet, unshakable hope. The Cross that looms over history is not a sign of defeat, but of victory – through it is a victory won through love, sacrifice, and mercy rather than force.

In a world marked by uncertainty, this truth matters more than ever. It means that no suffering is meaningless. It means that no darkness is without end. It means that even in the face of war, hatred, and division, God is at work, drawing life from death.

Palm Sunday invites us to walk with Christ—not only in the moments of triumph, but in the moments of trial. It calls us to remain faithful when the crowds fall silent, to stand near the Cross when others flee, and to trust that God’s purposes are unfolding even when we cannot yet see them.

As we enter this Holy Week, may we carry both the palms and the Cross in our hearts. May we not shy away from the heaviness of the suffering around us but meet it with the compassion of Christ. Above all, may we hold fast to the promise that defines us as believers:

The Cross is not the end. Love is stronger than death. Easter is coming!