“Tomorrow is Palm Sunday,” said the boy named Billy. “Why do some
churches give the people palm branches to carry?”
“On the Sunday preceding the crucifixion Christ made his
triumphal entrance into Jerusalem. All the people came out to
meet him, strewing palm branches in his path to do him honor,
just as you school children all cheer when the president, or some
great hero comes to town.”
“Jerusalem is a warm country and must have many beautiful
flowers,” said the boy named Billy. “Why didn’t they bring
flowers instead of stiff, rusty palm branches?”
“Because they wished to show him _all_ honor,” said Somebody.
“And the palm was their emblem of joy and peace and victory. His
goodness and power were beginning to have their effect on the
minds of the people. They were beginning to believe that Jesus
was really the Christ whom their forefathers had promised would
come and bring them comfort, peace and general good tidings.”
The boy named Billy looked puzzled. “So they hailed him on Palm
Sunday and crucified him the following Friday!”
Somebody nodded. “Human praise and opinion is like that--it is
always a variable thing full of chance and change--unstable--but
Jesus wasn’t moved for a moment by the praise and flattery of the
people, because he knew what was in store for him in Jerusalem.
He knew that Judas Iscariot, one of his own disciples, would
betray him to the chief priests and magistrates who hated him,
because they were afraid he would convert the people and uncover
their own wickedness. Christ Jesus knew that he must suffer
violence at the hands of those who hated goodness so that he
might prove beyond shadow of doubt, by his resurrection, that
love is greater than hate--that love is always victorious,
because God is Love.”
“I think this is the best really-so story of all!” said Billy.