A little boy by the name Billy visited his grandmother in California one summer and almost wore her out with his vigorous activity. She was accustomed to living a peaceful, orderly life. He was perpetual motion, into everything, and nearly turned the house upside down everyday. One night when they were both sound asleep, there was an earthquake. The grandmother was awakened by the house shaking and in her concern called out, "Billy, Billy!" Billy yelled back, "I didn't do it, grandma!" Well, Billy was a little like an earthquake at times to a grandma who liked her quiet lifestyle.

We reveal who we are by our actions. It is by our interactions with others that we paint, stroke by stroke, the portrait of who we are. We have grown accustom to Palm Sunday as a celebration in honor of Jesus Christ as our heavenly King. But Jesus did not look out among the branches and see the faithful. He looked out among the palms and saw what he had seen for the last three years. A people whose understanding was dim and whose hearts were filled with malice and vengeance toward Rome. Their voices shouted Hosanna but their hearts beat with a bloody desire for war.

Is it any wonder that they crucified him? No. Not with the disappointment they must have felt when he was arrested and his kingdom movement came to an end.