Homily given by Bishop Anthony Randazzo
Bishop of Broken Bay
Palm Sunday 2025
13 April 2025
Today, my brothers and sisters in Christ, with palms in our hands and hope in our hearts, we begin the sacred journey of Holy Week. Palm Sunday / Passion Sunday is not merely a recollection of ancient events. It is a gateway, a threshold into the mystery of salvation. We remember the Lord’s entrance into Jerusalem, not as a king of worldly power, but as the humble servant who willingly gave his life that we might live.
The prophet Isaiah reminds us: “Each morning he wakes me to hear, to listen like a disciple.”
As we enter Holy Week, may we too be awakened — not just from sleep, but from indifference, from fear, from despair — to listen like disciples, to open our hearts to the voice of Christ, who speaks to us even from the Cross.
“Father, forgive them...”
In the darkest hour of his Passion, Jesus does not cry out in vengeance, but in mercy: “Father, forgive them; they do not know what they are doing.” (Luke 23:34) These are not words of defeat. They are words of profound hope. In them, we hear not only forgiveness, but the beginning of a new world, a world redeemed by love.
Christ did not fall victim to hatred. He chose the Cross. He went to Jerusalem with freedom in his heart. And that freedom, the freedom to love even unto death, was the price of our redemption. Jesus went to his death not cursing humanity, but lifting it up, healing it, restoring it. His death was not the end. It was the beginning of our hope for eternal life.
“Into your hands I commend my spirit.”
These final words from the Cross (Luke 23:46) are not words of resignation. They are words of trust. In his dying breath, Jesus reveals the deepest truth of our faith, that our lives are not lost in suffering, but held in the loving hands of God our Father.
Today’s procession with palms is more than symbolic. We walk not just in memory of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem. We walk with eyes fixed on the new Jerusalem, on heaven, where Christ has gone before us.
The palms we carry are branches of hope. They point us toward our future with God. They remind us that our salvation is not automatic, but it is offered freely, lovingly, and it calls for a response: to follow Jesus in hope, in trust, in obedience, and in love.
As St Paul tells us in the second reading:
“He was humbler yet, even to accepting death, death on a cross. But God raised him high.” (Philippians 2:8-9)
My sisters and brothers, our hope is born from this paradox, that glory came through suffering, that life came through death, that victory was won through love.
Let me draw inspiration also from the words of Pope Saint Paul VI. Speaking of Christ 50 years ago in the Holy Year of 1975, he said:
“Cristo è la nostra speranza. È Lui che ci guida verso il futuro, è Lui che ci salva. In Lui, l’uomo trova se stesso.” («Dominica Palmarum», 23 marzo 1975)
“Christ is our hope. He is the one who guides us into the future, He is the one who saves us. In Him, the human person finds their true self.”
How beautiful, and how necessary, those words are in our world today. In a time when many feel lost, uncertain, and afraid, we proclaim boldly: Christ is our hope! Not in theory. Not in abstraction. But in reality, in the Cross, in the Resurrection, in the daily lives of those who follow him in love and service.
My dear people, as we stand at the doorway of Holy Week, let us not be mere spectators of Christ’s Passion. Let us be his disciples, listening, loving, and following him, so that one day, we may also enter the new Jerusalem. Let us walk with him through the shadows of Calvary, so that we may rise with him into the light of Easter.
Let our hearts echo his words: “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.”
This is the language of hope. This is the language of freedom. And this, dear brothers and sisters, is the road to salvation. Amen.