There is something deeply human about the urge to lift a hero onto our shoulders. We saw it in 1966 when Bobby Moore was carried aloft at Wembley, trophy held high. We saw it again in 1980, when Billy Beaumont was borne from the pitch at Murrayfield after leading England* to their first Grand Slam in 23 years. In moments like these, crowd and team become one, declaring: this victory belongs to us all.
Palm Sunday invites us to remember a very different kind of “victory lap.” When Jesus rode into Jerusalem, there were no floodlights or open top buses. There was a donkey, a dusty road, and a crowd waving palm branches — the ancient equivalent of scarves and banners. They hailed him as a king who would fix their political problems. Yet within days, the cheers would turn to jeers. The world’s praise is fickle. Christ’s triumph, by contrast, was found not in power but in his willingness to suffer, to die, and to be raised to life for us.
In recent days the UK has seen a heated debate regarding the “visibility” of faith in our shared civic spaces. You may have seen the headlines regarding the mass prayers held in Trafalgar Square during Ramadan. The controversy sparked questions about whether such displays are “acts of domination” or simply the healthy heartbeat of a multi-faith society. In an age when silent Christian prayer by a solitary lady outside an abortion clinic has been sufficient to be arrested, we realise that public prayer is surprisingly controversial and a political football.
As Christians, we should not be surprised — or timid. Our faith is not merely a private comfort to be hidden away. It is a public confession.
So when we stand outside the church this Sunday, holding our simple palm crosses, we are not just re-enacting history. We are making a statement. In a world that prizes power, wealth, and domination, we proclaim our trust in a King who chose humility over a warhorse. Holding that cross is a quiet, hopeful refusal to accept that Jesus Christ should be invisible in modern Britain.
As this is a fifth Sunday, our witness is strengthened by our unity. The two parishes of St Swithun’s and St Mary’s will gather as one body in Christ at St Mary’s, Kings Worthy, for Holy Communion as we begin Holy Week.
By worshipping together, we declare that our unity is deeper than buildings or habit. I invite you to stand with me, to lift your palm cross high, and to follow the one who truly deserves our praise — not for a trophy won on a pitch, but for a life given for the world.
Revd Paul
*Wales, Scotland, Ireland and France have also won the Grand Slam.