by the Revd Canon Michael Chandler
Canterbury Cathedral

A member of the Royal family once visited the town where I lived as a boy. I can vividly remember the occasion. Among the details, I recall that the town Council built a screen to hide some rather ugly public buildings from view along the route that the great personage would take.

I gently mock the Aldermen's prudery, but it was no more than natural. All of us would want our locality to look its best for an important and unrepeatable visit. That is why the ordinary folk of Jerusalem carpeted the road with their cloaks and covered the dusty earth with branches of palm. They wanted their locality to look its best, even to him who could see into the hearts of all men and from whom nothing is hidden and to whom all desires are know.

And this is a natural, harmless and worthwhile custom that Christians have kept going for centuries. Palm Sunday has been celebrated as something special since the seventh Century, and probably before that. Instinctively we want to be associated with our Lord's triumphant entry to Jerusalem. We feel that we want to stand at the roadside shouting out 'Hosannas' and calling for the Father's blessing upon the 'prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee'.

But our share in this happy little event is a share that is tinged with later knowledge. As we reflect upon it, we cannot escape the recognition that a few days later a similar crowd shouted for Jesus' crucifixion and doubtless followed as he was led out to die. Palm Sunday is a foretaste of the joy of the Resurrection. It lifts our sights, for a few moments, above the horrors of Good Friday to the fulfilment that was to come. Even more, it can help us get all suffering and horror into a better perspective - surely a help that we need in our day and age.

It is natural for us as human beings to look beyond the present moment. We have a God-given ability to realise that there is a future. Mostly, we cannot see into it, but we know through the experience of passing time that it is there. But we also know, because God has told us, that the Lord Jesus leads us to a future beyond the confines of this world. So it is natural, not only to look beyond the present moment, but also beyond the present world. I believe that it was some such insight as this which inspired that first crowd outside Jerusalem so long ago on Palm Sunday. It is a similar perception of God's reality and permanence which has kept even a trivial custom like Palm Sunday alive because it can be and is a happy reminder of the reality of God's sacrificial love which was supremely revealed on Good Friday.

In their own small way, our Palm Crosses remind us of all this. The Palm frond recalls - obviously - the delight and joy of Jesus Christ's entry into Jerusalem. Equally obviously, being folded into a cross, it recalls the pain and grief of the crucifixion.

Centuries ago, people kept them as a form of protection against evil. These days we keep them as odd souvenirs - as well as dust traps! But even for us they can serve as useful reminders of both the joy and suffering of Jesus Christ.

And, as it happens, for us they can also remind us of one or two truths of our own day. The Palms that we distribute were made in the Third World by the Christians there. Remember that fact then, and pray during Holy Week for Christian believers, whose discipleship is difficult, demanding and - maybe - dangerous. Also remember that they make and sell Palm Crosses in order to help finance the work of the Church in their homeland. So these crosses can further remind us that other Christians have to struggle to keep their church going; struggle to finance the Lord's work in a way that we are protected from. But also, let us remember that they and we share in the same faith. We are all liberated by the love of God. We are all the beneficiaries of Jesus' saving work. We are all called to stand and watch our Lord and sing praises to the Holy one of God who passes by, meek and lowly, riding on an ass. We heard St. Matthew's version of the Palm Sunday events as our reading, but I have always felt that St. Luke got right to the heart of the occasion. He recorded, you remember, that some Pharisees told Jesus to calm the crowd down. And, according to Luke, Jesus said, 'I tell you, if these were silent, the very stones would cry out!' (Luke 19.40). Such is the joy and delight of recognising Jesus as Lord as he rides in triumph into our hearts and minds and lives.