It is springtime in the early first century CE. The sun is overhead, warming your skin. The feast of Pesach (Passover) is nearing and you have traveled far on your pilgrimage up to Jerusalem. As you are gathering foodstuffs from the market, a crowd rushes to the entrance of the city. Seeing numerous people running toward the chaos with palm fronds, you grab leafy branches and join in the cacophony of joyful screams. “Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” everyone shouts. Glories stream from your mouth as you peak through the crowd, surprised to see a man in an unexceptional tunic, riding on an ass’s colt. Confused as to why there is kingly fanfare over a man who does not fit the stereotypical look of a king, you glance upon the man’s face and feel an overwhelming sense of peace rush over you.

In her new anthology Black Liturgies, author Cole Arthur Riley eloquently states how distinctive and miraculous it is that we serve a God who—instead of arriving on a horse and chariot, drunk with power, and embodying the hero archetype—comes to liberate His people by centering their suffering. Because He is developing intimate relationships with us, drawing near to accompany the poor and marginalized in a relatable way, Jesus is “unbothered by sitting on a donkey”, as Riley indicates. God rejected privilege in favor of meekness. We, too, must spurn entitlement and superiority and embrace charity, gentleness, and wisdom. His status as the Messiah will, in fact, be one of great power—not militarily speaking, but of justice, reigning peace, and unconditional love. In what ways can we exude the pillars of justice, peace, and love in our world today? On this Palm Sunday, Jesus is the arrival of hope, goodness, and light that we have been anxiously waiting for throughout our journey through the wilderness of Lent. Jesus is our great liberator, the one who frees us from shackles of sin, death, and destruction.

Liberation is on my tongue. Freedom is on my lips. I dream of the day when those who are most oppressed—refugees trapped under strategic and harsh government attacks, migrants fleeing ethnic cleansing from dangerous regimes, impoverished communities that lack access to clean water and food—are given the proper dignity of a human person and are provided with just reparations for their suffering. With Christ’s example in mind and humility in our hearts, we too can be liberators for our brothers and sisters in need, meeting them in their suffering and fighting for their rights to live and thrive. As we read the Palm Sunday Gospel, we are reminded both of Christ’s revolutionary love through the ultimate sacrifice of his own life for our sake and of the immense agony and suffering that Christ endured because of our sin. As followers of Jesus Christ, to radically love our neighbors as Jesus loves us, we must be willing to forfeit our apprehension to serve those who may not look like us or worship like us, while also holding space to remember the grief and pain that they have endured. On this first day of Holy Week, it is our mission to aid in the liberation of the oppressed, just as Christ liberated us from bonds of death. As we move closer to the Easter celebration, we will soon partake in the joy of Christ’s Resurrection. Yet, as Jesus came back with scars to prove the torment He had overcome, let us also remember the severe trials that our human family is currently undergoing and accompany our family in their suffering.