Palm Sunday

We all love unwrapping gifts, wondering what’s inside and hoping it might be something we’ve long desired. But sometimes we receive a gift we didn’t expect—or even want. Yet those unexpected gifts often turn out to be far better than we imagined.

On Palm Sunday, the people of Jerusalem expected a powerful king who would overthrow Rome and restore Israel’s glory. Their hopes were focused on earthly victory, but Jesus came to bring a deeper freedom—deliverance from sin and death. His mission reached far beyond their expectations.

As Jesus approached Jerusalem, he sent two disciples to find a donkey and her colt. It was an unusual request, yet it fulfilled prophecy and revealed a Saviour who often works through the unexpected to accomplish the miraculous.

I’m grateful that God doesn’t work the way I would. His plans always surpass mine. While I may pray for quick fixes or temporary relief, God offers transformation that requires trust.

Like the man in the parable who sold everything to gain a hidden treasure, we are called to recognize the true worth of Jesus. Palm Sunday reminds us that he came not to meet temporary desires but to fulfil our deepest need—salvation.

As we move closer to the cross and the empty tomb, reflect on this: Have you fully trusted Jesus as your king? If he rode into your life today, how would you receive him? 

MAJOR DONETTE PERCY is a retired Salvation Army officer.

Fig Monday

“Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness....” You may remember singing these words as children, as we were taught that a life lived for Christ would have evidence of the Holy Spirit’s “fruit” (see Galatians 5:22-23) in our words and behaviours.

Perhaps this is why Fig Monday appeals to me during Holy Week. The shouts of “Hosanna” from the previous day’s triumph have grown quiet and are replaced with the dramatic actions of Jesus as he forcefully cleanses the temple and curses a seemingly innocent fig tree (see Mark 11:12-26; Matthew 21:12-22). Could it be that Jesus was unapologetically warning against spiritual fruitlessness and dangerous hypocrisy? As Jesus knocked over the tables in the temple and commanded the fig tree to wither from its roots, he communicates his desire for fruit-filled, authentic faith and genuine sincerity and reverence in our worship and service.

Fig Monday allows us to pause for introspection and perhaps even repentance. Are we serving prayerfully and with genuine devotion? Do we still show reverence toward the Lord and the places dedicated to his glory? Are we showing evidence of fruitfulness? 

MAJOR SHELDON BUNGAY is the divisional youth secretary in the Prairies and Northern Territories Division.

Teaching Tuesday

As Holy Week continues, we move from Fig Monday to Teaching Tuesday, the last day of Jesus’ temple teachings. In Matthew 21:28-22:14, we read three parables spoken not to “outsiders” but to those who believed they already knew God’s will. The lessons Jesus shared challenge them—and us—to examine our hearts and how we respond to him.

The first, the parable of the two sons, reminds us that faith is shown not in words, but through action. One son says no but later obeys; the other says yes but fails to act. It calls us to look honestly at our own discipleship and consider if our prayers and promises lead to real change— lives shaped by obedience, mercy, grace and love.

In the parable of the tenants, Jesus reveals the tragedy of continued resistance to God. Again and again God reaches out; again and again he is rejected. As we approach the cross this year, we see how human fear, pride and desire for control led to violence. Yet we are reminded that God’s purpose is not defeated; the rejected Son became our cornerstone of salvation.

Finally, the parable of the wedding banquet shows both the depth of God’s mercy and the seriousness of our response. The invitation is offered freely, even to the seemingly unexpected and unworthy, but it requires transformation. Grace is experienced where we are, yet it does not leave us unchanged.

Together, these parables remind us that Holy Week is not only about remembering what Jesus endured but examining how we choose to respond to his teaching and invitation. May we move beyond words to faithful action as we walk with Christ toward the cross, and into new life. 

CAPTAIN JUSTIN GLEADALL is the corps officer at Oshawa Temple, Ont.

Spy Wednesday

Spy Wednesday, a term that comes primarily from the Roman Catholic tradition, is the day we consider Judas and his agreement to hand Jesus over to the authorities for 30 pieces of silver (see Matthew 26:14-16).

I doubt that Judas began his journey intending to be a “spy,” but eventually he becomes one. Scripture doesn’t tell us Judas’ exact motives, but he breaks trust and offers Jesus over to those who would kill him, all for 30 pieces of silver.

What is clear about the betrayal of Judas is its intimacy. He was not an enemy or stranger; he was a friend. He travelled with Jesus, ate with him and called him teacher. There was no outright hostility observed, only a decision made secretly, like a spy.

Jesus’ response was not to expose Judas or retaliate, but to remain faithful to the path that led to the cross, motivated by love.

Spy Wednesday holds a gentle invitation to look inward. In what quiet ways might we betray Christ? Could it be through compromises, such as silence in the face of injustice, or choosing self-interest over compassion?

The good news is that we are not without hope. The story is still moving toward redemption, and we are invited to return and realize that God’s love will have the final word. 

CAPTAIN JACLYN WYNNE is a chaplain at Community Venture in Winnipeg.

Maundy Thursday

Maundy Thursday commemorates the night Jesus shared his final meal with his disciples. The word maundy comes from the Latin mandātum, meaning “command” or “mandate,” and refers to the pivotal moment when Jesus gives them a new commandment: “Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another” (John 13:34). This command is not merely spoken; it is first embodied when Jesus kneels to wash the disciples’ feet.

This day reminds us that the love to which Jesus calls his followers is demonstrated before it is demanded. In John 13, Jesus takes a towel and assumes a posture of vulnerability and service. In doing so, his authority is not diminished but revealed. His power is expressed through humility, attentiveness and care.

By modelling love before naming it, Jesus invites the disciples to experience what love looks like in action. We notice love as presence, as service; love that meets human fragility with gentleness. While foot washing may not be a widespread practice today, the meaning it carries remains timeless. Love is a posture.

Maundy Thursday reminds us that love often takes shape in ordinary acts of service: listening deeply, remaining present with one another and offering attentive care when words fall short. It calls us to embrace humility in our relationships, trusting that loving presence can be transformative. May the posture Jesus demonstrated continue to guide how we serve, walk alongside others and embody love in the world. 

MAJOR LESLIE WISEMAN is the corps officer and community ministries officer at Bridgetown Community Church, N.S., and the regional corps health resource officer for the Atlantic Division.

Good Friday

Good Friday does not offer resolution; it offers presence. It invites us not to escape the darkness, but to enter it with Christ. The cross stands at the centre of human suffering, declaring that God does not remain at a safe distance from pain but steps fully into it. Jesus’ anguished cry—“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Mark 15:34)—names the raw reality of abandonment, grief and loss. This is not symbolic suffering. It is God’s costly solidarity with a wounded world.

Scripture insists that this descent is not accidental but essential. “He was despised and rejected … a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief” (Isaiah 53:3 RSV). On Good Friday, God refuses denial. Violence, sin and death are faced honestly—not bypassed by optimism or explained away by theology too tidy for grief.

As darkness falls over the land (see Luke 23:44), creation itself bears witness: something decisive is taking place in the depths. The darkness becomes the place where God does his most transformative work—where love absorbs what would otherwise destroy.

Good Friday teaches us that resurrection is never cheap. New life is born only because Christ journeys all the way into death. The tomb becomes a womb precisely because love was willing to descend. To enter the darkness is to trust that God is already at work—reshaping death from the inside out. 

MAJOR KRISTA ANDREWS is the corps officer at Richmond Hill Community Church, Ont.

Solemn Saturday

Solemn Saturday marks the stillness between Crucifixion and Resurrection, a stillness the disciples did not choose. Their teacher was dead. Their hope had unraveled. The One who opened blind eyes and welcomed the forgotten now lay in the tomb sealed by the empire. To them, the story had ended.

Luke tells us they rested on the Sabbath (see Luke 23:56). This rest is not peaceful. It is the kind that comes when a heart has been hollowed out. No miracle is expected. No future imagined. Only a pause filled with sorrow.

We seldom pause with them. We rush toward the joy of Easter without honouring the weight of this middle day. Yet many of us live in places like this, caught between what was lost and what has not yet been restored. Solemn Saturday gives language to those seasons. It lets us acknowledge the sorrow we prefer to ignore.

The church has long reflected on Christ’s descent, his work beyond our sight, in what has become known as the “Harrowing of Hell.” But the disciples knew none of that promise. They simply mourned. By joining them in that honest sorrow, we discover a deeper gratitude for the hope that arrives on Sunday. When we allow ourselves to feel the grief of this day, the announcement of Resurrection becomes deeper, sharper and full of hard-won hope. 

LIEUTENANT ZACH MARSHALL is the corps officer and community services officer at Community Church of Lethbridge, Alta.

Resurrection Sunday

I love sitting in silence anticipating dawn’s arrival, filled with the assurance that the sun will soon reveal itself. In those early hours, I never doubt that the One who doesn’t slumber will stir the sunrise and daylight will replace the darkness of night. I wonder if Mary and the women who journeyed to the tomb “while it was still dark” (see John 20:1) were just as certain? Were they confident that light would invade the darkness that loomed in the days following Jesus’ Crucifixion?

Grief can cloud our ability to trust that there is relief on the horizon. We meet the women in this story amid despair. They are journeying to Jesus’ tomb in the early hours of the day, prepared to honour their friend. The words “while it was still dark” can easily fade into the background, yet they are profound. It was in the darkness that hope glowed brightly. In discovering the empty tomb, the beauty of the Resurrection was revealed. While it was still dark, God raised Jesus from the dead.

At times in our lives, we will experience despair, confusion, pain and loss. We may be uncertain if the light will ever come, but Easter reminds us that “while it was still dark,” God was at work. Jesus is alive, the risen Saviour is with us and he is the Light of the World. The wonder and joy of the Resurrection came after the pain, grief and loss of the Crucifixion.

In our darkness, we can trust that God is working in ways that we cannot yet see or imagine. We have the assurance of knowing that the light has already triumphed over darkness and the empty tomb is not the absence of Jesus; it is the presence of hope. Hallelujah! 

CAPTAIN ANGELA KERR is the corps officer at Saskatoon Temple and the regional women’s ministry secretary for the Prairies and Northern Territories Division.

Illustrations: pronoia/stock.Adobe.com; Lisa Suroso

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