“Behold, your king is coming to you; righteous and having salvation is he, humble and mounted on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey… O prisoners of hope; today I declare that I will restore to you double.” Zech. 9:9-12


Lord Jesus, on the “calendar of grace,” today is Palm Sunday, the beginning of “Holy Week.” It marks not only your entrance into Jerusalem, but why you came into our world.

Given the events of the past week in our city (Nashville), the “Hosannas” that greeted you have never seemed more hollow, and the “foal of a donkey” has never appeared more majestic. Our only hope rode into Jerusalem that day in utter weakness on absolute smallness. You didn’t come to impress us, Jesus, but to save us—to rescue us from sin and death—to secure the expiration of “all-things-evil” and an eternity of “all-things-new.” Thank you, Lord.

When I think of palms today, April 2, 2023, I don’t primarily think of long green branches, but the bottom side of our hands. Palms covering mouths and faces in shock and trauma last Monday. Palms engaged in courageous rescue and compassionate care, that horrific morning. Palms reaching to comfort the inconsolable, with wordless hugs and cascading tears. The palms of your church, extended to serve, give, hold, and care for one another. Palms lowering loved and little ones into fresh graves.

But mostly, Jesus, on this Palm Sunday, I think of your palms. From holding the reigns of the foal, to washing the feet of your disciples, to being bound to the cross—you have come to save us, redeem us, and make us yours. Oh Jesus, only you can make slaves of sin, fear, and despair into prisoners of hope. You have, you are, you will forever. We lift our palms in worship and surrender. So Very Amen.