Today the King comes to take possession of his Kingdom. Who is this King? God's only Son, the Anointed One, the Messiah, Jesus Christ. What is his Kingdom? The eternal, everlasting Kingdom where God himself rules every heart.

The King's triumphal entry into Jerusalem is the first act of the sacred drama of Christ's greatest work: his passion, death, and resurrection, by which he would redeem the world and establish his everlasting Kingdom.

Today, we celebrate this triumph with the ancient symbol of victory: palm branches. And it is right that we should.

But are we only spectators? No. We are called to be involved in Christ's triumphant entry into Jerusalem. The clue to this fact, that we are called to be more than just spectators, is the way Christ entered Jerusalem - on a donkey colt.

That means a bunch of things. It means that Christ is fulfilling his Father's will, because Zechariah had prophesied that the Messiah would enter Jerusalem on a colt. It means that Christ is the Prince of Peace, because when kings in ancient times came bringing peace, they rode on donkeys, but when they came bringing war, they rode on horses.

But most importantly, it is a parable. Jerusalem stands for every human heart. And just has Jerusalem was surrounded by huge stone walls, every human heart too is surrounded by walls. And Jesus wants to go through those walls and win over those hearts. And he doesn't want to do it alone. He could have walked into Jerusalem on his own feet, but he didn't. He chose to need the colt.

In the same way, in order to bring his Kingdom into people's hearts today, he chooses to need you and me.

We are the donkey colts, carrying Christ into every city of the world, into every heart. Jesus wants to conquer the world through us.

This is Jesus' constant strategy. He comes into our lives through ordinary, everyday people and events. Ask any priest or religious how they discovered their vocation, and they will tell you a story that illustrates this strategy.

A great example of this is the case of Saint John Paul II. When he was a young college student with a brilliant career ahead of him, he met a humble tailor, a layman, named Jan (yahn) Tiranowski.

Jan had organized a prayer group based on the living rosary. Jan was an ordinary man. Nothing set him apart from everyone around him. He looked like everyone else. He lived his daily life like everyone else. He did his job like everyone else.

He was like an ordinary donkey colt. He was like the ordinary, plain bread that becomes the Eucharist at Mass. But it was through his guidance and witness that the young Karol Wojtyla heard his call to the priesthood.

That's how Christ has chosen to work in our lives and in the world; he brings in the victory of his grace by riding donkey colts into Jerusalem, through ordinary people and events.

This is the way our Lord has decided to work in the world. And so we should consciously lend him a hand. We should make ourselves into the best donkey colts we can be, carrying Christ wherever he wants to go.

The key to being good donkeys is obedience, docility. Our motto in life should be the one he taught us: Thy will be done. If he wants us to turn to the right, we go right; if he wants us to turn to the left, we go left.

This is the lesson the Blessed Virgin Mary learned, and it was the mark of her greatness. Remember her response to the Angel Gabriel? "Let it be done to me according to your word."

Christ himself also gives us the example of docility. His whole earthly life was lived in perfect obedience to his Father's will, as the first and second readings [at Mass] today remind us: "I have not rebelled," the prophet Isaiah speaks in the name of the Messiah; "He humbled himself, becoming obedient to the point of death," St Paul explains.

I am sure that each one of us wants to bring Christ into the lives of those around us. We want to share with others the precious faith we have received.

We want him to bring his love, his forgiveness, his wisdom, and his grace into those lives. We want him to ride right through the gates of Jerusalem and into the hearts of everyone we love, everyone we work with, everyone we know, everyone who is in need. He wants the same thing. All he needs is for us to be good donkeys, and he will take care of the rest.

Today, as we celebrate his Triumphal entry and receive him once again in Holy Communion, let's thank him for coming to save us by becoming one of us, and let's renew our commitment to be good, docile, dependable donkeys, so he can conquer more and more Jerusalems.

Imagine you're in a tunnel, standing on a train track, and a train is hurtling towards you. There's no time to run back, and the walls of the tunnel are pressed up against the track. You can't get out, and the train is coming.

Something similar was happening to the woman we just heard about in today's gospel. In Jewish law, the three gravest sins were murder, idolatry, and adultery. All three were punishable by death.

This woman is caught in the act of adultery. And the Pharisees, the religious leaders of the time, know it. She can't escape. The penalty is death by stoning.

She is expecting death. Maybe she's wishing she had a second chance. The cruelty of the Pharisees must be terrible for her. They really don't care about her at all; they just want to use her to trap Jesus.

But worst of all must be the shame. We've all sinned; we've all experienced shame, that burning desire to crawl into the ground and disappear. Imagine how great hers must have been. And the crowd is mocking her.

But Jesus does not condemn her. He forgives her. When he looks at her, he sees what St. Paul says in Ephesians 2:10: "You are God's masterpiece." St. Augustine, commenting on this gospel passage we just heard, says that a great misery meets a great mercy. In Latin it sounds really good: misery is miseria and mercy is misericordia. So, a great miseria meets an even greater misericordia.

And this leads to true conversion. John Paul II once said: "We are not the sum of our weaknesses and failures; we are the sum of the Father's love for us and our real capacity to become the image of his Son." When we meet that love, in Jesus, it moves us to change in response. This is why Jesus says to the woman, "Go, and sin no more."

We are called to a new relationship with God. We come as sinners, and we leave forgiven. God is with us. Christ heals us, fills us with joy, and challenges us to be saints. Go, and sin no more.

There's a remarkable drawing by Sister Grace Remington which captures the drama of today's gospel in a vivid way.

The characters are different, but the message is the same. It's called "Mary Consoles Eve," and the artist is envisioning what would happen if the Blessed Virgin Mary met Eve.

Eve is standing before Mary with her head bowed down. Her face is crimson with shame, and you can see that she wants to look up at Mary, but she doesn't dare. In her hand she's holding an apple with a bite taken out of it, a symbol of her sin.

There's a snake wrapped around her leg. It's the Devil, who, once we've sinned, tries to convince us that there's no forgiveness and that thing will never change.

What about Mary? She's looking lovingly at Eve, and her right hand is caressing Eve's face. It looks like she's trying to draw Eve's eyes up to meet her own.

Mary's left hand is holding Eve's hand against her stomach. Mary is pregnant with Jesus, the one who forgives us, breaks through our shame and our hardness of heart, and gives us life. And Mary is crushing the snake's head with her foot – but she's not even looking at it! It's as though she were saying, "Don't worry, my son has this taken care of. He is not afraid of sin. He wants to forgive you and make you knew."

This experience is offered to all of us. This experience brings us to hear Christ's words: "Go, and sin no more, because I am with you."

When Christ says, "Go and sin no more," what does that mean for our own lives?

It's an invitation to a new way of life. Lent is a time the Church gives us to enter into that new way of life. Let's make the most of the remainder of Lent to do exactly that. When our sins are forgiven, it brings us to want to live differently. It brings us to want to be saints.

One very practical result is that it brings us to forgive others. It's very easy to hold rancor in our hearts when someone hurts us. It can be in little ways, like when someone cuts us off in traffic or fails to invite us to a party. It can be in major ways, like a betrayal or a rejection.

But when Christ says "Go, and sin no more," he's saying that with his power we can truly forgive others.

Here's a tip to help do that. When angry thoughts towards someone pop up, say a quick prayer: "Jesus, I pray for that person who hurt me. Help me to forgive as you forgive."

When we receive Christ in the Eucharist, let's ask him to help us to forgive. And we begin to experience the peace that goes beyond what we can imagine. Christ forgives us, he lifts us up, and he tells us "Go and sin no more." 

Holy Week shouldn't be observed out of religious obligation but out of hearts seeking the opportunity to journey with Jesus in the closeness the events of this week bring to all who believe in the sacrificial salvation He died to give us. For those curious about Jesus, observing Holy Week is a good opportunity to ask questions and seek answers about who He is, what His sacrifice means, and how His gift affects humanity. When Christians observe Holy Week, we set ourselves apart for Him and dedicate our time to Him. Our observation gives Him the glory and honor that He deserves, for the gift of life we get to live.

What is Holy Week?

Holy Week is an important time for Christians throughout the world. Holy Week, the final week of Lent, begins on Palm Sunday, the Sunday before Easter. Holy Week is a time when Catholics gather to remember and participate in the Passion of Jesus Christ. The Passion was the final period of Christ's life in Jerusalem. It spans from when He arrived in Jerusalem to when He was crucified.

How Do We Celebrate Holy Week?

Four special ceremonies commemorate the events of Christ's Passion from His entrance into Jerusalem, when palm branches were placed in His path, through His arrest on Holy Thursday and Crucifixion on Good Friday, to Holy Saturday, the day that Christ's body lay in the tomb.

The summit of the Liturgical Year is the Easter Triduum—from the evening of Holy Thursday to the evening of Easter Sunday. Though chronologically three days, they are liturgically one day unfolding for us the unity of Christ's Paschal Mystery.

The single celebration of the Triduum marks the end of the Lenten season, and leads to the Mass of the Resurrection of the Lord at the Easter Vigil.

The liturgical services that take place during the Triduum are:

• Mass of the Lord's Supper

• Good Friday of the Lord's Passion

• Mass of the Resurrection of the Lord

Palm Sunday recalls Jesus' arrival in Jerusalem. Palm Sunday is known as such because the faithful will receive palm fronds which they use to participate in the reenactment of Christ's arrival in Jerusalem with a procession. In the Gospels, Jesus entered Jerusalem riding a donkey to the praise of the townspeople who laid palms or small branches, in front of him as a sign of homage. This was a customary practice for people of great respect.

Holy Thursday commemorates the Last Supper, when Jesus consecrated bread and wine. In the morning, bishops typically gather with priests from their diocese for the Chrism Mass or a day near Holy Week. They bless holy oils during the Mass. The washing of the feet takes place during the Mass of the Lord's Supper in the evening.

Good Friday is one of the darkest days of the year for Catholics. It covers Jesus' arrest, trial, and crucifixion. His death and burial are also memorialized. The events of Good Friday are commemorated in the Stations of the Cross, a 14-step devotion, traditionally prayed during Lent and especially on Good Friday. Good Friday is a day of fasting within the Church. Traditionally, there is no Mass and no celebration of the Eucharist on Good Friday. Communion comes from hosts consecrated on Holy Thursday.

Holy Saturday remembers the day which Jesus spent in the grave resting. The Easter Vigil takes place at the end of the day because the new liturgical day begins at sunset, the vigil begins at sunset on Holy Saturday outside the church, where an Easter fire is kindled and the Paschal candle is blessed and then lit. This Paschal candle will be used throughout the season of Easter, remaining in the sanctuary of the church and throughout the coming year at baptisms and funerals, reminding all that Christ is our life and light.

Fr. Antonius David Tristianto, O.Carm.

As we enter the season of Lent, the Church offers a great number of suggestions for our spiritual progress. One common devotion is the Via Crucis (Way of the Cross) which is more commonly referred to as 'Way of Sorrows', 'Via Dolorosa', or simply the Stations of the Cross.

The "Stations of the Cross" are a series of fourteen pictures, paintings, or carvings that portray the events along Christ's journey in his final hours, from his condemnation by Pontius Pilate to his body being laid in the tomb. It is thought that the Stations originated as a way for those unable to travel the pilgrimage route in Jerusalem, the 'Via Dolorosa'. The plenary indulgence attached to the pilgrimage is also given to those who prayerfully make the journey of the fourteen stations.

This devotion started when St. Helen (Helena), mother of the emperor Constantine, began to build churches on the holy sites in Jerusalem in the fourth century, corresponding devotion to those sites was developing among Europeans. The anonymous Bordeaux Pilgrim (333 A.D.) and St. Sylvia of Galicia (380 A.D.) wrote of witnessing devotional practices leading to and inside the Holy Sepulcher.

The Roman Empire ended with the sack of Rome in 476 (though the Byzantine Empire in the East continued to the 15th century). Germanic and Frankish tribes soon developed into early European kingdoms, which sought to recapture the glory that had been Rome. In church life, we see this in the establishment of the Holy Roman Empire (10th century), and the Crusades (the first in 1095), undertaken to recapture the holy sites in Jerusalem (marked by the churches Helen had established).

When Jerusalem fell to Muslim control in 1187, travel to the Holy Land became restricted. The Franciscans received custody of Jerusalem's holy places for Latin-rite Catholics in 1335, and eventually secured safe passage to these sites for pilgrims. However, most people still could not travel to Jerusalem. Instead, starting in the 11^th century, returning crusaders began to establish local shrines — called "stations" — devoted to the sites they had seen in Jerusalem, including the Via Dolorosa, or Way of Sorrows. These Stations of the Cross, supported by the Franciscans, soon spread across Western Europe.

In 1686, Pope Innocent XI granted the Franciscans exclusive rights to establish Stations of the Cross in their sponsored churches, but that right was extended to all churches less than a century later.

The spread of the Stations of the Cross continued, as did devotions and meditations upon all the sufferings of Jesus — from recounting how many times he fell to the instruments of his torture.

This time in Europe — especially corresponding to the time of the Crusades in the 11th to the 15th centuries — was a time of wars, famine and plagues. The Black Death spread across Europe in the middle of the 14th century, killing half the continent's population (75 million) in just a few years. The famous Oberammergau Passion Play, which is enacted every 10 years, began to fulfill the village's pleas and promise to God when a plague struck there in 1634.

The mystical writing of saints such as St. Bridget of Sweden (d. 1373) helped deepen the focus on the sufferings of Christ. The humanity of the dying Jesus — illustrated by paintings, statues, poems and hymns — offered comfort to people who were also suffering. As Fr. Gerard Sloyan, biblical historian, noted, "The Middles Ages in Europe were a time ravaged by wars, disease and famine and hampered by the ignorance born of illiteracy. … The specter of death was ever present. …People's Christianity was real to them in the measure that they could conceive (of) Jesus Christ as sharing their suffering."

It should also be noted that, while the Mass was in Latin during these centuries, popular devotions, such as the Stations of the Cross, were in the vernacular. This added to their popularity.

However, no matter how popular the focus on the sufferings of Christ, Christians have never lost sight of the cross as the place where redemption took place. It has become more common in more recent times to add a 15^th Station of the Cross to the traditional 14. (Stations have ranged in number from five to 42). This final station is the resurrection.

The 10th century Anglo-Saxon poet, Cynewulf, also knew that the cross meant glory when he wrote — as from the cross's perspective — the "Dream of the Rood (Cross)." In the poem, the cross — seen in visions as adorned with jewels, silver and gold — tells how it shared in a great hero's passion and death, and then in his glory.

The stations provide an orderly way of meditating on the Lord's Passion. Hence, the words of Pope Benedict XVI at the celebration of the Way of the Cross at the Coliseum, Rome Italy in 2008 are worth reflecting: "Brothers and sisters, our gaze is frequently distracted by scattered and passing earthly interests; let us direct our gaze today toward Christ. Let us pause to contemplate his Cross. The Cross is the source of immortal life, the school of justice and peace, the universal patrimony of pardon and mercy… His nailed arms are open to each human being, and they invite us to draw near to him, certain that he accepts us and clasps us in an embrace of infinite tenderness: 'I when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all men to myself' (Jn 12: 32)."

Fr. Antonius David Tristianto, O.Carm.

One important way to grow in the Lord is to observe the penitential practices that strengthen us for resisting temptation, allow us to express our sorrow for the sins we have committed, and help to repair the tear caused by our sinning.

Today's readings remind us that if we truly want to recognize, do, and praise the good that we and others do we need Our Lord's help and the wisdom to not judge a book by its cover.

In today's First Reading, Sirach teaches us that the true worth of anyone, including ourselves, is when a trial by fire shakes us up and makes us show who we indeed are and how we live.

He focuses on a person's words being the accurate measurement of their faults or virtue. Appearances are not enough. He gives three examples of a process for evaluating the worth of a "fruit."

With the sieve, you sift out the undesirable, which remains in the sieve and lets the desirable pass through. With the firing of pottery, it adopts its definitive form and strength, or its definitive deformation and flaws. With cultivating a fruit tree, it's easy to see whether you're successful or not: good and abundant fruit or a withered tree with little to no fruit.

In all three of these processes, it is the result that matters. The process doesn't automatically produce a good outcome, just like we or others aren't automatically good or evil.

In today's Second Reading, Paul reminds us that it is thanks to Our Lord that this process of telling good from evil, even among the well-intentioned, is not in vain.

Our corruptibility and mortality due to Original Sin would lead to spiritual as well as physical death if left to their own devices. Original Sin disfigured us, but also disfigured our view of good and evil. We need help to correct it.

Paul encourages us to see that Our Lord will clothe that corruptibility with incorruptibility: the grace that transforms us and heals us from the wounds of Original Sin, although we still are subjected to weakness and temptation in this life, in eternity we will be purified of it, once and for all.

Our Lord clothes our mortality with immortality by sowing the seed of eternal life in us from the moment we believe and are baptized. His victory over death swallowed it up for himself and us. If we persevere in Christ, we will share in his victory over sin and death.

Our Lord in today's Gospel reminds us that we must try to see and live clearly before helping others, or it will be a case of the blind leading the blind. He also warns us that being a "bad boy," despite how culture today paints it, is never a good thing.

If a blind man were to offer to help you cross the street, you would either charitably decline, think he was crazy, or maybe convince yourself he had superpowers. We live in a society where people seek the virtuous thing to do, the logical thing to do, or the craziest thing to do, and are willing to get advice from or give advice to anyone.

We have to invest time, prayer, and reflection to determine the solid foundation on which to live and to be guided. We can't just invent this on our own: we need help from Our Lord, and we need help from dependable people and solid traditions.

If someone recognizes something to be evil, they avoid it; that is Ethics 101. That is why evil often tries to masquerade as good, to appear glamorous. Our Lord teaches us not to judge people, but he does teach us to judge actions: evil people do evil things, just as good people do good things.

A Potter's Furnace

Once the clay is prepared and shaped into pottery, it is placed into a furnace, a kiln, to harden and be complete. If there are any flaws in the shaping of the object, the furnace makes that deformation permanent. Only slight repairs are possible.

A kiln is a good metaphor for the trials by fire that we undergo in life. Trials define us for good or for ill. They never leave us the same. Trials are also the moment where we indeed show what we are made of. A trial can lead to growth or destruction. It all depends on the virtue and grace with which we face it.

Original Sin and our sins have defined us, but Paul reminds us today in the Second Reading that Our Lord, through his grace, works that brokenness into something that gradually takes shape from here to eternity: a saint.

Sift Your Words This Week

Sirach this week teaches us to sift the words of others and separate the good from the evil this week, but Our Lord teaches us that we should start by "sifting" our own words: the wooden beam in your eye impairs your vision in telling good from evil.

St. Paul in his Letter to the Ephesians teaches us: "No foul language should come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for needed edification, that it may impart grace to those who hear" (4:29).

Some people set up a "Swear Jar" and place some money in it whenever they use foul language, but this process is deeper. You can say uncharitable and unedifying things with perfect diction and "clean" language.

Set up a jar or keep track on a paper or app this week of how many times each day you said something unedifying. Once a day take stock of how edifying/unedifying your words were that day.