What new thing can be said about Palm Sunday? We have witnessed, if we have followed the readings at Mass over the last few days, the growing plotting of the enemies of Christ against Him. But today, at least, they are silenced by the people who have begun to gather in Jerusalem for the upcoming paschal festivities of the Jewish religion. If we think that the time in which Christ lived was a time of heightened expectation of the arrival of the Messiah, we appreciate the enthusiasm of the people as they recognised the trappings of majesty as Christ enters the holy City on both the female ass and the colt, just as the old prophecy used in the Gospel of S. Matthew had described.
"Glad news for thee, widowed Sion; cry out for happiness, Jerusalem forlorn! See where thy King comes to greet thee, a trusty Deliverer; see how lowly he rides, mounted on an ass, patient colt of patient dam! Chariots of thine, Ephraim, horses of thine, Jerusalem, shall be done away, bow of the warrior be unstrung; peace this King shall impose on the world, reigning from sea to sea, from Euphrates to the world’s end." - Zecharias 9: 9-10
I have heard say that the older ass represented the Jewish nation tethered, as it were, to the observance of the Law of Moses, and the younger colt the pagan nations, still free from the religious observance desired by God, gentiles who would soon stand below the standard of the King in the Christian church. Despite this moment of glory for our Lord, we are still commemorating the Passion of Christ, as we approach Good Friday. Our psalm at Mass today is therefore the rather sombre Psalm 21. This was the psalm that Christ was reciting on the Cross, beginning with, 'My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?'
"My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me? Loudly I call, but my prayer cannot reach Thee. Thou dost not answer, my God, when I cry out to Thee day and night, Thou dost not heed. Thou art there none the less, dwelling in the holy place; Israel’s ancient boast. It was in Thee that our fathers trusted, and Thou didst reward their trust by delivering them; they cried to thee, and rescue came; no need to be ashamed of such trust as theirs.
But I, poor worm, have no manhood left; I am a by-word to all, the laughing-stock of the rabble. All those who catch sight of me fall to mocking; mouthing out insults, while they toss their heads in scorn, 'He committed himself to the Lord, why does not the Lord come to his rescue, and set His favourite free?' What hand but Thine drew me out from my mother’s womb? Who else was my refuge when I hung at the breast? From the hour of my birth, Thou art my guardian; since I left my mother’s womb, thou art my God!
Do not leave me now, when trouble is close at hand; stand near, when I have none to help me. My enemies ring me round, packed close as a herd of oxen, strong as bulls from Basan; so might a lion threaten me with its jaws, roaring for its prey. I am spent as spilt water, all my bones out of joint, my heart turned to molten wax within me; parched is my throat, like clay in the baking, and my tongue sticks fast in my mouth; Thou hast laid me in the dust, to die. Prowling about me like a pack of dogs, their wicked conspiracy hedges me in; they have torn holes in my hands and feet; I can count my bones one by one; and they stand there watching me, gazing at me in triumph. They divide my spoils among them, cast lots for my garments.
Then, Lord, do not stand at a distance; if Thou wouldst aid me, come speedily to my side." - Psalm 21 (22)
It was a sad thing, indeed, to not have the parishioners at Mass this morning. May this time of quarantine and isolation come swiftly to an end. I have blessed the palms we had obtained for today and have them waiting in a basket in the church. When all this is over, people may come and take them away to their homes. All glory, laud and honour to Thee, Redeemer King.
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