From Father Steven - April 13, 2025
Dear Brothers and Sisters,
Not long ago, we sang with joy, “O Come, Let Us Adore Him.” . Though this beloved hymn celebrates the response of the shepherds to the birth of the Savior, it echoes once again this Palm Sunday. Today, we are also invited to come and adore Him—this time as He enters Jerusalem, not as an infant, but as the suffering King.
The child born in Bethlehem came with a mission: to give His life for the salvation of humanity. From the very beginning, the Nativity foreshadowed the Passion. In traditional Greek icons of the Nativity, Jesus is wrapped in swaddling clothes—foreshadowing the burial linens He will later wear. He is born in a cave-like stable, reminiscent of the tomb in which He will be laid. In Jesus’ time, the dead were placed in stone-cut tombs, not buried underground. The Gospel notes that the tomb of Nicodemus “had not yet been used,” emphasizing its sacred role in God’s plan.
Even the reactions to Jesus’ birth and His triumphant entry into Jerusalem are strikingly similar. When Herod heard of the newborn King, he was "greatly troubled, and all Jerusalem with him" (Mt 2:3). Centuries later, as Jesus enters Jerusalem amid palm branches and acclamations, the entire city is once again shaken—stirred by the arrival of a King who does not come with power and might, but with humility and love. This is no coincidence. Everything in salvation history unfolds according to God's perfect plan. It prompts us to reflect: What is the image we hold of Christ as King? Do we see Him as the one who should take away our sufferings, fix our problems, and restore order to the world? While Christ certainly brings healing and hope, He often does so in ways we do not expect. He is not a King who comes to conquer with force, but one who walks alongside us—through our struggles, pain, and even death—inviting us to place our full trust in God.
To grasp the depth of God’s love, consider the image of a parent keeping vigil by their sick child, or a spouse caring tenderly for their beloved in illness or death. These acts of love go beyond obligation—they are a gift of self. In the same way, Christ enters Jerusalem not with glory as the world defines it, but with compassion—literally, "to suffer with." He doesn’t remove suffering from our lives, but instead enters into it with us. Emmanuel—God is with us—even in our darkest hours. We are not alone. Christ calls us to accompany others in their pain, to bring His presence to those who are suffering, and to love as He loves. Only love has the power to conquer sin and death.
Palm Sunday’s liturgy begins with celebration—the waving of palms, the joyful acclamation of Christ the King. But it moves swiftly into the solemn reading of His Passion. This contrast invites us to welcome the King who comes not to reign from a throne, but from the Cross. He comes to suffer with us, to carry our sins, and to free us—not from Roman oppression, as many in His time expected—but from the grip of sin and death itself.
So, dear friends, let us enter this Holy Week with faith, love, and hope. It is easy to go through the motions, to let these sacred days pass by. But Christ desires to live this time with us and in us. As St. Paul reminds us, “If we have died with Christ, we believe that we shall also live with Him” (Rom 6:8).
Let us then walk this path with Christ—through the Cross, into the joy of the Resurrection. May this Holy Week transform us, renew us, and prepare our hearts to truly celebrate the miracle of Easter.
God Bless,
Fr. Steven
