April 5th, 2026: Palm Sunday

I greet you with the joy of this wonderful holiday.

Lent is over. The fast is over. Put behind you

now any of those things which were ugly, whatever

failures you had, anger, resentment, whatever

it might be. That you've gripped your heart and

your feelings. Be at peace. For now, we have

to turn our attention to Christ and his steps.

Six days before the Passover. That's where we

are. That's what it said in the gospel today.

And six days before the Passover, what happens?

Well, this incredible event. You have the fresco

up there and the icon in the middle of the church.

You see Christ on the donkey. Actually, the foal

of an ass. There's so much that we could say

just about that donkey that the fathers and the

hymns speak about, but I'm going to leave that

for another time. Sacred history records in the

scriptures that the last time anyone of significance,

a king, rode a donkey into Jerusalem, it was

the coronation day for King Solomon, the son

of the righteous King David. On that day that

we commemorate this day, six days before the

Passover, when Jesus rode on a donkey, the foal

of an ass, into Jerusalem, the people, hearing

about the raising of a dead man, Lazarus, knew

this fact of history about Solomon. They were

eager to praise Jesus and to see in him the king,

the conquering hero. I can't even imagine. The

sense of wonder and jubilation and pride of those

who welcome Jesus to the holy city, the city

of peace. Shouting, exclaiming, and proclaiming,

Hosanna, blessed is he that comes in the name

of the Lord, the King of Israel. And those up

there on the Temple Mount, the leaders, plotting

to kill him. The people below welcoming, a king.

Who can raise the dead? What enemy could stand

against such a king? You have to think this is

what's going on. What enemy? And indeed that

is true. Wrong enemy. The leaders of the people

wanting to put Lazarus to death also, says St.

John, want to hide the evidence of what this

king can do. They did not welcome the hero, the

king, because of their envy, their pride, their

greed, their lust for power. Jesus was not anointed

by a prophet, seated on a throne in Jerusalem,

as other kings were anointed and seated. But

he was anointed by she who would be a prophetess,

Mary, the sister of Martha. who anointed Jesus

for his burial. Because in his burial, his death,

his rising, that's where he is truly the king.

Look at that cross. What does it say at the top?

The king of glory. Because his glory is his love

for us. He was not invited to an enthronement

by the powers that be. but willingly chose that

throne, the throne on Golgotha, where we see

that inscription, the king of glory. Jesus, of

course, knew that all this would transpire after

his entry in Jerusalem, and so St. Luke, in his

account of this event, he's writing, when Jesus

drew near and saw the city, he wept over it,

saying, would that you... Even you had known

on this day the things that make for peace. Two

days in a row, yesterday and today, we see Jesus

weeping. And it is no wonder. We have a lot we

could weep about as well. We know the story.

Step by step. The betrayal, the duplicity, the

fake trial, the terrible mocking. Horrible mocking.

The violence against Jesus. And because we know

the story, we can and we must actually today

rejoice, not weep. We can raise our branches

of palms. What a privilege to identify ourselves

as servants of the Lord Jesus Christ, the King,

the one who saves. The one who desires to save.

We should not be ashamed to say to other people,

I believe in God. I believe in Jesus. I believe

in the Holy Spirit. I believe in the church.

I'm an Orthodox Christian. We should not shrink

away from that. Of course, we don't have to be

obnoxious, waving our palms in front of somebody

else's face. We wear a cross. That's our identification.

We respect other people for their belief, but

we don't shrink back from ours. And the epistle

that you heard today, it seems to me, is a kind

of statement to us, believers in Christ, what

our life ought to look like if we truly consider

Jesus as our king. Enthroned where? In our heart?

In our mind? In our house? Not just an icon corner,

not just a Bible on a shelf getting kind of dusty,

but really truly in our actions. The epistle

tells us what our life ought to look like as

we sing, Hosanna, blessed is he who comes, the

son of David. St. Paul says rejoice. Rejoice

always, and he's writing from prison. There's

no bathroom breaks, mind you. He's chained to

a wall, probably. I imagine. I could be wrong.

Father Daniel could correct me as the biblical

scholar. But a Roman prison cannot be a healthy

and pleasant place. Rejoice in the Lord. Again,

I say rejoice. That's what St. Paul tells us

today. Because if Christ is our king, we rejoice.

And I alluded to this yesterday. Let all people,

he says, know your moderation, your forbearance.

Your patient endurance. Your suffering. Your

long suffering. Because the Lord, he says, is

at hand. And he is at hand. Always present for

each one of us. That dares to make the effort

to pray to him. To enter into that space. The

time to pray. Then it says this. Have no anxiety

about anything. It doesn't say don't plan. Don't

be good stewards of your life. Don't set aside

something. Deal with your responsibilities. Anxiety

is the thing that grips the heart and fragments

the noose so that our soul doesn't know what

goal we're going for. Have no anxiety about anything

but in everything by prayer and supplication

with thanksgiving. Let your petitions, your requests

be known to God and the peace of God. will dwell

with you. Christians here, according to St. Paul,

are characterized as people devoid of anxiety.

No anxiety about anything because we trust that

he has, that he is, and that he will save us.

Save us from what? Save us from the terrible

ignorance of not knowing why we even exist, from

the ignorance of not knowing what our destiny

is, to be as he is. Save us from the ignorance

that we are enslaved to sin, the poison of sin,

which leads us to be enslaved to the devil, whom

Christ came to destroy. St. Paul says, He came

to destroy him who held the might of death, that

is the devil. He came to save us from annihilation,

extinction, and non -existence. He came to save

us from fear. He didn't come. Well, imagine a

man in a burning house shouting, save me, with

no way out. He's not looking. for his life to

be improved. He's not looking for monetary, economic

comfort. That's our job for others, by the way.

Christ didn't come to make our life easier. He

gives us the ministry and the task to minister

to others, to help them, to make their life easier.

Because he has saved us. He has saved us from

that inferno, from that fire. He has saved us

from nonexistence. He has saved us from certain

and complete and utter death. And so we rejoice

today. St. Photius, the great, the 9th century

saint, one of the most brilliant people who ever

lived, he gave this sermon on the feast day.

He said this, Blessed is he, Hosanna. that comes

to reach out his arms on the cross to gather

all peoples to himself. Blessed is he, Hosanna,

that comes to make Hades a prisoner, to release

Adam from his bond, to raise him from his fall.

Blessed is he, Hosanna, that comes to destroy

the power of the tyranny and to bestow liberty

on them that are sore distressed. Blessed is

he that comes to empty out the storehouses of

Hades, and to fill the heavenly mansions with

the throng of the saved. Blessed is he that comes

to offer himself as a sacrifice for our sake.

Blessed is he to expiate all our sin to reconcile

us with the Father. Blessed is he that comes

to kill death. to inaugurate our resurrection,

to free us from servitude, to bestow on us adoption

as his blessed children, so we cry, Hosea.