Homily given by Archbishop Anthony Randazzo
Prefect of the Dicastery for Legislative Texts & Apostolic Administrator of the Diocese of Broken Bay
Palm Sunday 2026
29 March 2026
Today we begin the great and sacred journey of Holy Week. We enter Jerusalem with Jesus. We walk beside him as the crowds gather, as palms are raised, as voices cry out with hope and expectation. We are drawn into that moment when the world seemed poised for change. And yet, what kind of king do we meet?
The Gospel tells us: “Look, your king comes to you: he is humble, he rides on a donkey…” (Matthew 21:5) This is not the arrival of a conqueror. This is not a display of power, force, or domination.
In a world where rulers often came mounted on war horses, ready for battle, Jesus chooses a donkey. He comes in gentleness. He comes in peace. This is the king we follow.
As we gather here today, it is impossible to ignore the reality of our world. There is, in many places, a belligerent air, an atmosphere of aggression, violence, and conflict. War continues to scar our human family. We see it in the Middle East, in Ukraine, in Sudan, in Myanmar. These are not distant stories. They are happening now, in real time. Lives are being shattered. Families are torn apart. The innocent, the vulnerable, the defenceless suffer most. Making war always harms those who have the least power to protect themselves.
Recently, I experienced, in a small and unsettling way, what it is like when conflict intrudes suddenly into daily life. I was in Dubai during the first missile attack and remained there for several days as drone attacks followed. It was a moment of uncertainty, of disruption, of unease.
But even that brief experience cannot compare to what so many endure every day, those who cannot leave, those who are trapped, including migrant workers, some from our own region of Oceania, who remain locked down and exposed to danger. Their reality invites us not to fear, but to compassion. Not to indifference, but to prayer and solidarity. And into this very world, our world, rides Our Lord Jesus Christ.
Saint Paul gives us the key to understanding him: “He emptied himself… he was humbler yet, even to accepting death, death on a cross!” (Philippians 2:8) This is the path Jesus chooses. Not domination, but self-giving. Not vengeance, but mercy. Not hatred, but love poured out completely. This is not weakness. This is the deepest strength.
Peace is not simply the absence of war. Peace is born from humility. It grows when we place others before ourselves. It takes root when pride is set aside, when the desire to win gives way to the willingness to serve. Jesus shows us that true victory is not achieved by crushing others, but by lifting them up, even at great cost.
As we enter Holy Week, we are not just remembering events from the past. We are being invited into a way of life. As we hear the Passion proclaimed, we witness how quickly the cries of “Hosanna” turn into “Crucify him.” We witness betrayal, violence, and cruelty. And yet, Jesus does not respond in kind. He does not call down destruction. He does not seek revenge. From the cross, Jesus offers forgiveness. From suffering, he brings forth redemption. This is the peace of Christ.
And so, my sisters and brothers, the question for us is simple, but demanding: what kind of disciples will we be? Will we be people who contribute, even in small ways, to the noise of anger and division? Or will we be people who, like Christ, choose humility, patience, and reconciliation? Will our words build bridges, or deepen wounds? Will our actions reflect mercy, or fuel resentment? The world does not need more hostility. It does not need more hardened hearts. It needs witnesses to a different way, the Way of the Cross, the way of Christ.
Today, as we hold our palms, we are making a quiet but profound commitment. We are saying that we will follow this king who comes in peace. We are choosing to walk with him, not only in moments of joy, but all the way to the cross and beyond, to the hope of the Resurrection.
Let us pray, then, for those who live under the shadow of war. We remember the innocent, the vulnerable, the displaced, and the fearful. Let us hold before God those whose lives are marked by uncertainty and danger, and with one voice ask for the grace to be instruments of Christ’s peace in our own homes, our communities, and our world.
Jesus Christ is our peace. In his humility, in his self-emptying love, God has made a covenant of peace, not only with us, but with all creation.
May we have the courage to live that peace. Amen