This Sunday, called “Palm Sunday of the Lord's Passion,” has two halves to it, palms and passion, as you might have guessed. They stand in jarring contrast to each other.

First, the palms proclaim Jesus’ kingship.

The palms we hold during the ritual procession are an imitation of what the local people did long ago, the ones who lined the road. This opening part of the ceremony is more than just another historical reminiscence, it is a proclamation today of Jesus as king. It is the first half of the jarring contrast.

You may not have noticed the kingly aspect specifically, but there are multiple clues in the First Gospel. (i.e., the reading that takes place just before the palm procession). First, he rode on a colt, an animal that was used for royalty’s entrance into a city. Second, the disciples spread their cloaks over the colt’s back as they would for someone royal.

Then the crowds along the way treated Jesus as a kingly hero. They spread out their coats on the roadway and covered them with palm branches cut from the fields. It was a symbol to soften the pathway for the kingly one: to keep the dirt off of him. And they cried out, “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”

The King.

Second, the soldiers do their best to destroy any kingship in Jesus.

The Mass itself and its Passion Reading follow. They show the ridicule Jesus’ kingship was put to, a fool’s tale. Soldiers tie him up and yell “King of the Jews.” It their derogation of this poor, ridiculous captive.

They jam a “royal” crown on his head, one made of thorns. They wrap a fake robe of purple around him (the color reserved for kings because of its rarity in that era). They spit on him. They strike him. They laugh. They make a tortured fool out of this great “king.”

The First Reading had already told us why such torture happened. Because the King chose it. The reading says,

I have not rebelled, have not turned back. I gave my back to those who beat me, my cheeks to those who plucked my beard; my face I did not shield from buffets and spitting.

You or I would have cried out, “My God, why have you abandoned me?” The Responsorial Psalm says exactly these words, and Jesus will say them from the cross.

But are these the words of a king? Does such a total surrender represent kingly action? What do you say? No!

But scripture says the opposite.

Yes.

Jesus, king of kings, “did not regard equality with God as something to cling to”—for safety or honor or for whatever other reason. As the greatest king he emptied himself out, became like a slave, obedient even to death on the cross (Second Reading). This, in allegiance to God and in service of the people.

On this day of the king, Jesus knew who he was, even under the worst duress and strife. He was and remains the one who loves, no matter what. We have here the opposite of the kind of greatness we always imagine: service of God’s people as the true basis of rulership.

A good ruler pulls a kingdom together and makes it safe, a place of abundance. If they accomplishe such a goal, no kingly suffering would be too great. Palm/Passion Sunday is a large-scale revelation of kingship’s true meaning, a vision we in the United States certainly need today.

Real love.