Palm Sunday
The Lord GOD has given me the tongue of those who are taught, That I may know how to sustain with words him who is weary. He awakens morning by morning, He awakens my ear to hear as those who are taught. The Lord GOD has opened my ear. I was not rebellious. I have not turned back. I gave my back to those who beat me, And my cheeks to those who plucked off the hair. I didn't hide my face from shame and spitting. For the Lord GOD will help me. Therefore I have not been confounded. Therefore I have set my face like a flint, And I know that I won't be disappointed.
"He trusts in the Lord. Let him deliver him. Let him rescue him, since he delights in him." But you brought me out of the womb. You made me trust while at my mother's breasts.
I can count all of my bones. They look and stare at me. They divide my garments among them. They cast lots for my clothing.
But don't be far off, Lord. You are my help. Hurry to help me! Deliver my soul from the sword, My precious life from the power of the dog.
You who fear the Lord, praise him! All you descendants of Jacob, glorify him! Stand in awe of him, all you descendants of Israel! For he has not despised nor abhorred the affliction of the afflicted, Neither has he hidden his face from him; But when he cried to him, he heard.
Who, existing in the form of God, didn't consider equality with God a thing to be grasped, But emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being made in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself, becoming obedient to the point of death, yes, the death of the cross. Therefore God also highly exalted him, and gave to him the name which is above every name, That at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of those in heaven, those on earth, and those under the earth, And that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.
The contrast couldn't be sharper. Hosanna-shouting crowds one day, crucifixion-demanding mobs the next. Palm Sunday confronts us with the fickleness of human praise and the steadiness of divine love.
Notice how the servant in Isaiah sets his face "like flint" – an image of absolute determination. This isn't stubbornness but clarity of purpose. When we know we're walking in God's will, external opposition becomes secondary to internal conviction. The servant endures mockery and violence not because he enjoys suffering, but because he trusts completely in God's vindication.
Paul's hymn in Philippians reveals the stunning reversal at Christianity's heart. The one who could have claimed divine privilege instead chooses human vulnerability. This kenosis – this self-emptying – transforms our understanding of power itself. True strength lies not in grasping but in releasing, not in demanding recognition but in choosing service.
Consider how this plays out in our daily interactions. When someone cuts us off in traffic or dismisses our ideas in a meeting, our instinct is often to assert ourselves, to make sure we're seen and respected. Yet the Palm Sunday paradox suggests another way: the path of humble service that trusts God's ultimate justice.
The crowds who shouted "Hosanna" weren't necessarily hypocrites – they were human. We all experience moments of spiritual clarity followed by periods of doubt or distraction. What matters isn't our consistency of feeling but our willingness to return, again and again, to the way of the cross.
The movement from palm branches to passion reminds us that authentic discipleship involves both celebration and sacrifice, both the mountaintop and the valley.
Where in your life might God be calling you to set your face like flint? How do you handle the gap between others' expectations and your own sense of calling? What would it look like to embrace the way of kenosis in one specific relationship today?