Love Lays Everything Aside

 

This week, Love lays everything else aside, will we do the same?

The Liturgy of the Palms

Luke 19:28-40

Psalm 118:1-2, 19-29

The Liturgy of the Word

Isaiah 50:4-9a

Philippians 2:5-11

Luke 22:14-23:56

or Luke 23:1-49

Psalm 31:9-16

 

©2025 The Rev. Seth Olson

This sermon was preached on Palm Sunday at the Episcopal Church of the Holy Apostles in Hoover, AL.  A video of the sermon may be found here.

Holy God, may my words be your words and when my words are not your words, may your people be wise enough to know the same. Amen.

Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus.

Today, Palm Sunday, is a rollercoaster of a day. We begin with shouts of Hosanna—palm branches waving, children smiling, we are giving parade vibes, for sure! And we end in silence, with Jesus taken down from the cross. Joy and devastation in the same hour. Triumph and tragedy, held together.

With such a wide array of the human experience, perhaps what this Sunday most invites is not understanding, but presence—a willingness to stay with Jesus, even as the story devolves into tragedy.

When the disciples first followed Jesus into Jerusalem, they were hopeful. The crowd was energized. Jesus looked like the kind of leader they had been praying for. But not long after, things got confusing. Jesus washed their feet instead of raising a sword. He offered his body and blood instead of battle plans. He knelt in a garden and wept.

And slowly, one by one, his friends disappeared. One betrayed him. Another denied him. Most simply vanished into the shadows.

The story of this week—this Holy Week—isn’t just the story of what Jesus did for us. It’s also the story of how easily we leave when love starts to cost us something.

But here’s the good news: Jesus doesn’t abandon us, even when we abandon him.

In Philippians, we’re told to “let the same mind be in us that was in Christ Jesus.” That’s not just a call to think like Jesus—it’s a call to live like him. To take on the posture of humility. To empty ourselves. To make room for others. To choose love over pride, vulnerability over power, presence over comfort.

It’s not an easy way. But it’s the way of Christ.

So, as we begin this holiest of weeks, I offer you this invitation:

Don’t rush ahead to Easter. Stay with the story.
Stay when the crowd turns angry.
Stay when the silence grows heavy.
Stay when your heart breaks.
Because it’s in the staying that resurrection takes root.

Let this week shape you—not just as a memory of what happened long ago, but as a living call to walk the way of love. Because this world still needs the peace that rides in on a donkey. This world still needs people who choose mercy over vengeance, courage over fear, presence over escape.

So stay with Jesus. And, let God’s story unfold in you.

Amen.