Father Albertus Herwanta, O. Carm
On Palm Sunday, the Church proclaims the complete narrative of the Passion of Jesus Christ. The Church also chooses and sings Psalm 22 as the responsorial psalm. People who are aware of that selection may raise some questions. What is the catechetical purpose of including this psalm? How does the structure of Psalm 22 (a lament that transforms into thanksgiving) mirror the shape of the Passion narrative?
Beneath the waving of palms and the echo of "Hosanna," the Church, in her ancient wisdom, places upon our lips a psalm that sounds the depths of desolation. Psalm 22 is not merely a companion text to the Passion; it is the unveiling of a sacred mystery.
Its selection for the liturgy of Palm Sunday is a profound catechetical act, revealing that the King who enters Jerusalem amid acclaim is the same Victim who will cry out from the wood of the Cross.
The liturgy, in its perfect wisdom, connects the triumph of the procession to the silence of Gethsemane, teaching us that glory, in the divine economy, is born not of worldly power but of radical self-emptying.
This psalm serves as the very interior prayer of the Incarnate Word. The psalm gives voice to the ineffable: the moment when the Son, bearing the full weight of human sin, experiences the felt absence of the Father. In proclaiming, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" the liturgy reveals that Christ did not suffer in stoic silence but sanctified human anguish by clothing it in the sacred language of Israel's prayer. What begins as a raw lament—a cry of utter abandonment—turns into a radiant doxology of trust.
This movement from the agony of the cross to the hope of resurrection is the spiritual foundation of Holy Week. The psalm's graphic details—pierced hands and feet, the casting of lots—become prophetic icons, transforming the Roman instrument of torture into the Throne of Grace, from which Christ conquers sin and death.
For the faithful, this psalm is a school of authentic spirituality. It grants us holy permission to bring our own experiences of betrayal, physical suffering, and spiritual darkness into the sanctuary of prayer. Authentic discipleship does not demand that we deny the reality of suffering; rather, it invites us to follow the psalm's curve: to voice our anguish with unflinching honesty, yet to anchor that anguish in a memory of ancestral faithfulness and a trust in divine providence. We are reminded that, when together with Christ's Passion, our personal struggles are never just personal sorrows. They are integrated into the common narrative of redemption.
Psalm 22 reminds us that the way to glory is prepared with sacrifice as we hold palms that symbolize the cross. The assurance that future generations will testify that God's justice, in its concluding words, reassures us that hope, created out of difficulties, always results in witness. It teaches that faith may open doors to hope even in the darkest of situations, turning the dark valley into a sanctuary of divine encounter. (*)