Palms...

Back in England for Palm Sunday... Once again I feel underwhelmed by the palm crosses we are given in church here.

I know they are palm leaves picked in the Holy Land, dried and specially folded for us... and at least they are not the three inch ones that we had for a couple of years, but a decent size...

But, I much preferred in Uganda when we picked real four foot long palm leaves in our garden on our way to church, or were given them in church. I loved how the whole congregation was a green sea of waving branches during the Palm Sunday service.

To me, it brought one so much closer to the original scene, of Jesus being welcomed and waved gladly into Jerusalem by the Passover crowds.










The hoisting and vigorous swishing of hundreds of palm branches during each hymn just impelled one to grin and sing joyfully - how could you be solemn while all that was going on. It was so fun.

A fuzzy picture but it gives the impression I remember, ... and some familiar faces...

The joy and sweetness of the Palm Sunday worship is so poignant because the original welcoming crowds changed their minds by the end of the week and shouted for Jesus' death. So I just can't help wondering while singing "Ride on, ride on in Majesty" every year, whether by the end of the week I would also have been shouting, "Crucify him." Honestly, I am not a very brave person, so I fear that I might have joined in to save my own skin. But I hope not, because I feel as though my faith in Jesus and my gratitude to him is deeper than that.

Two images I enjoy of the first Palm Sunday:

I love icons, but don't really know much about them - I would love to learn about their symbolism one day. I know that that is Zacchaeus in the tree, and there are people laying down their cloaks in front of Jesus - but no real palm leaves in evidence - I guess the Russian artist didn't know what they looked like?