11th April 2025

Palm Sunday is approaching. At Church we will (probably) sing “Ride on, ride on, in majesty” and will (probably) be given a palm cross – a precisely cut and folded piece of dried plant material, allegedly palm, which is to remind us of Christ’s crucifixion. (These seem mostly to be made ‘by Masai villagers of South Tanzania’ and I hope they are paid properly!)

We were once in Venice on Palm Sunday and went to St Mark’s Basilica. It was a long service in which the whole passion narrative from Matthew was read. (As it was in Italian I understood little but did realise how breathless Matthew is. He says “and then… and then…” so many times.) At the end we were each given a small piece of real palm – about 30 cm of green leaf. It was truly green and alive very recently.

On our way back to lunch we passed a parish church whose congregation was leaving. The children poured out each brandishing a whole bright green palm leaf. In many cases it was taller than they were. They were joyfully chasing each other, shouting, waving the palms or having mock fights with the palms.

It made me appreciate the story of the first Palm Sunday in a new way. The joy and hope of the crowd that day was real but it was about to be dashed and turned into the baying crowd of Good Friday, the desolation for the disciples and then the wonder of Easter Sunday. A roller-coaster of emotions for us to follow too each year.

Margaret Clements