Lent 2026 · Palm Sunday (& Day 34): Blessed, Betrayed, and Still Not Paying Attention

“The next day the large crowd that had come to the festival heard that Jesus was coming to Jerusalem. So they took branches of palm trees and went out to meet him, shouting, ‘Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord, the King of Israel!’” —John 12:12–13 (NRSV)

Palm Sunday. The beginning of the end.

The moment when people welcomed Jesus as a savior.

Waving palms. Shouting “Hosanna,” which literally means, "Save us."

And within days? Those same voices were shouting for his death. We like to think we would’ve been different.

We wouldn’t have turned.

We wouldn’t have followed the crowd.

We wouldn’t have been so easily swayed.

But history, and honestly, current events, tell a different story.

Because we are still doing it.

We are still looking for someone to save us.

Still putting people on pedestals.

Still believing the loudest voice in the room must be the right one.

Still confusing power with truth.

We are being sold the same story over and over again.

That someone strong will fix everything.

That someone loud will protect us.

That someone in power will make things “great” again.

And every time, we fall for it.

Meanwhile, the people actually doing the work?

You don’t know their names.

They’re not on stages.

They’re not building brands off outrage.

They’re not promising salvation.

They’re doing the quiet work.

Feeding people.

Showing up.

Organizing.

Healing.

Changing themselves while they try to change the world.

That’s the part we don’t like.

Because it’s not flashy.

It’s not immediate.

It doesn’t feel powerful.

And it doesn’t let us off the hook. Because if we’re being honest…

We don’t actually want to be saved.

We want to be comfortable.

We want someone else to fix things without requiring anything from us.

We want transformation without sacrifice.

We want justice without accountability.

And that’s not how this works. It never has been. The people in Jerusalem thought they were welcoming a king.

Someone powerful.

Someone who would overthrow systems.

Someone who would fight for them.

Instead, they got a teacher. A poor brown man riding in on a donkey. Telling them to love their enemies.

To feed the poor.

To stand with the marginalized.

To examine themselves.

And that wasn’t what they wanted.

So they turned on him.

That kind of reversal feels painfully familiar.

We see it all the time, putting people on pedestals, only to watch them crash when we realize they’re flawed, human, or just disappointing. These days we call it “cancel culture.”

But it’s not new. It’s ancient. And it says more about us than it does about the people we tear down. So in the crucifixion story, ask yourself, "Who would you be?"

Would you be Peter, who loved Jesus but denied knowing him when things got hard?

Would you be Pilate, who knew better but still washed his hands of it all?

Would you be Judas, who betrayed his friend with a kiss?

Would you be the crowd, easily swayed by power, pressure, and propaganda?

Or would you be Mary, who stayed, even when it cost her everything?

The truth is… we’ve been all of them.

At different points in our lives, we’ve betrayed, denied, abandoned, judged, or stayed silent when it mattered most. And we’ve also grieved, resisted, and held space for truth in the face of injustice.

We haven’t changed as much as we think we have. We still reject the message when it asks too much of us. We still crucify truth when it disrupts our comfort. We still follow crowds when it’s easier than thinking for ourselves.

And while we’re arguing over who belongs in bathrooms, who gets rights, who deserves dignity... Power is consolidating quietly. Systems are being reshaped. And we’re distracted. Just like we’ve always been.

Palm Sunday isn’t just about what they did. It’s about what we’re still doing.

If we want to fix this world;

If we want to dismantle broken systems; and

If we want to rebuild something better.

We don’t start out there. We start here. With ourselves.

Because we cannot destroy what’s broken in the world

if we refuse to confront what’s broken in us.

That’s the work.

Quiet.

Unseen.

Uncomfortable.

Real.

Maybe the problem was never that we didn’t recognize the savior.

Maybe the problem is we don’t want to become the people the message requires.

Lenten Reflection: Who Are You in the Story?

“Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord, the King of Israel!” — John 12:13 (NRSV)

Palm Sunday asks a hard question. Not who Jesus was. But who we are.

This week, sit with this:

🔹 Where am I looking for someone else to save me?

🔹 Where am I avoiding the work required of me?

🔹 When have I followed the crowd instead of standing in truth?

Faith isn’t about performance.

It’s about transformation.

And transformation starts within.

But blessed are we, too, when we refuse to follow the crowd, and choose instead to walk the way of compassion, resistance, and radical love.

🕊️ As above, so below.

Take care of yourselves.

Take care of each other.

#lentreflection2026 #PalmSunday #Hosanna #HumanAndHoly