Psalm 22 on Palm Sunday: Not Abandoned, But Heard and Exalted
by Paulist Fr. Rich Andre
March 26, 2018

Paulist Fr. Rich Andre preached this homily on Palm Sunday (Year B) on March 25, 2018, at St. Austin Parish in Austin, TX. The homily is based on the day’s readings: Mark 11:1-10; Isaiah 50:4-7; Psalm 22; Philippians 2:6-11; and Mark 14:1 – 15:47.

This homily owes a great deal to Pheme Perkins’ exegesis and commentary on the Gospel of Mark in The New Interpreter’s Bible.



Throughout the gospel of Mark, everyone is amazed by Jesus’ authority. Jesus teaches with authority. He possesses the authority to cast out demons. From the start of his public ministry, Jesus’ authority offends and scares the rich, the scribes, the Sanhedrin, and sometimes even the apostles.

The historian Josephus tells us that perhaps three million people came to Jerusalem each year for the Passover. Even today, Jerusalem only has a population of eight hundred thousand. During Passover, the city became a crowded powderkeg: millions of Jews gathering, singing psalms that celebrated David’s kingdom, in the faces of their hated Roman occupiers. No wonder the religious authorities were scared! But Jesus came to rule a very different kind of kingdom.

The mood of our gathering is about to change drastically. For the rest of this Mass, we journey with Jesus as he became our king not through his authority, but through his meekness, humility, and submission. 


It’s not clear what sort of Old Testament references Mark is making in his account of Jesus’ entrance into Jerusalem. Some interpreters believe that the crowds placing their cloaks on the road echo when Elisha anointed Jehu as the new king of Judah… but that’s not a very prominent story in the Jewish tradition.

On the other hand, Jesus’ last words on Good Friday make an explicit reference to the beginning of Psalm 22: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Every year on Palm Sunday, we sing this lament as our responsorial psalm.

We all know people who currently feel forsaken by God: Some of our friends and acquaintances who struggle with issues of anxiety and trust. Some people facing life-threatening illnesses. People drinking themselves to death. People mourning the unexpected loss of a loved one.

We live in a time of uncharitable speech, of fear, and of violence. Unfathomable millions of people are displaced from their homes because of sexual trafficking, terrorism, and war. Much closer to home, we were on edge earlier this week as package bombs continued to explode in our neighborhoods. Christians and people of other faiths face the real possibility of martyrdom in many parts of the world.

We will never fully comprehend the Paschal Mystery in this lifetime. But one thing is clear to me: the Passion definitively proves that God is not remote. God understands the human condition. Jesus Christ emptied himself of his God-given authority. He experienced the full range of human emotions. He endured slander, scorn, betrayal, abuse, and torture. His death prefigures the martyrdoms happening in our world today. He died in the midst of the complexities of social sin.

Throughout the first thirteen chapters of Mark’s gospel, as Jesus exercises his authority and people recognize it, Jesus instructs the people not to tell anyone. Even after the passion, it’s not exactly clear what happened according to Mark. The shorter version of the last chapter – which I like to think is the real version written by Mark – ends with the women leaving the empty tomb, too scared to tell anyone what they saw.

Mark presents Jesus as an abject failure. Abandoned by all members of his inner circle, condemned by scribes, handed over by the Sanhedrin, and tortured by Roman soldiers, he cries out to God from the cross and dies, alone and unrecognized… or does he? Surely many of the Jews who heard Jesus cry out knew the rest of Psalm 22. It turns from a song of lamentation to a hymn of praise:

For God has not spurned or disdained the misery of this poor wretch,
did not turn away from me, but heard me when I cried out.

Immediately upon Jesus’ death, it is a centurion – a Roman enemy and a non-believer who has executed Jesus – who declares, “Truly this man was the Son of God!” Mark has titled his book “The Gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God,” but this is the only time that a person declares Jesus to be the Son of God.

What can this mean? Mark’s been giving us hints all along the way. Jesus condemned the rich, but Levi the tax collector became a disciple. The scribes opposed Jesus, yet Jesus told one that he was “not far from the kingdom of God.” The Sanhedrin handed Jesus over to death, yet one of their number retrieved Jesus’ body and buried it. The apostles complained about the woman with the alabaster jar, but it was she who literally made him “the anointed one.” The women at the foot of the cross have never been mentioned by Mark before, yet they are there.

Psalm 22 declares,

All the ends of the earth will worship and turn to the LORD;
all the families of nations will bow low before you.
For kingship belongs to the LORD, the ruler over the nations.

If Jesus dies alone and defeated, who will proclaim the saving news of the gospel? It is for us to proclaim, not Jesus himself. Again, from the psalm:

The generation to come will be told of the Lord,
that they may proclaim to a people yet unborn
the deliverance you have brought.

And it is especially for the “outsiders” to proclaim the gospel. If we question our worthiness to be disciples of Christ, we share a noble lineage with Levi, the scribe, the woman with the alabaster jar, the women at the cross, and Joseph of Arimathea. Let us all live out the proclamation of hope in Psalm 22:

I will offer praise in the great assembly;
my vows I will fulfill before those who fear him.
The poor will eat their fill; those who seek the LORD will offer praise.
May your hearts enjoy life forever.