Palm Sunday
Fr. Ben Riley
I’d like to begin with a story.
There was an honest, God-fearing man named George, who started a small business with his best friend. They were 50/50 partners.
They built it together over years. Late nights. Long hours. Sacrifices. It wasn’t just work—it was something they shared. And over time, that partnership became something deeper: a real love and trust for one another.
His friend relied on him. Trusted him. Put responsibility into his hands. ..without hesitation.
And for a long time, George lived up to that trust.
But then, little by little.. .things began to change.
It didn’t start with some grand decision.
It was small.
A little money moved here.. -just to cover an emergency expense.
“I’ll pay it back later,” George told himself.
“l deserve a little more.”
A small adjustment there.. .”No one will notice.”
And each time, there was a justification:
“It’s not really hurting anyone.”
“I’ve worked hard for this.”
“It’s my money anyway.”
And so it continued.
Not all at once—but slowly.
Quietly.
Until what began as something small…became something much bigger.
And at some point—if George was honest—he knew.
This isn’t just a gray area anymore.
This is wrong.
But by then…he was in too deep.
And so instead of stopping, he kept going.
And the strange thing is—he still didn’t think of himself as a bad man.
He could still look in the mirror and say, “I’m a good person.”
Until one day…
it all came out.
The accounts were reviewed. The numbers didn’t add up. Questions were asked.
And suddenly, everything that had been hidden.. .was exposed.
There was no more explaining it away.
No more comparing himself to others.
No more “it’s not that bad.”
Just the truth.
He had taken what wasn’t his.
He had betrayed his best friend—someone who trusted him.
And now.. .he stood in a courtroom.
And for the first time.. .everything was clear.
Not just what he had done—
but what it meant.
The damage.
The betrayal.
The weight of it.
And something began to break open inside of him.
Because at first, there was still that instinct to defend himself:
“l didn’t mean for it to go this far.”
“l was going to fix it.”
But those words started to sound hollow. even to him.
And what was left was something much harder to face.
That quiet, heavy realization:
“l did this.”
And as he stood there, waiting for the judge…
he knew.
He knew that whatever came next…
he deserved it.
Now here’s the hard part.
If we’re honest…that story is not just about him.
Because, maybe we haven’t done that.
But we know that movement.
We know how sin works.
Not all at once—
but little by little.
Rationalized. Justified. Minimized. Hidden.
We spend a lot of time worrying about the evil out there in the world..
but there is something in here too.
And sooner or later…
every one of us has to face it.
And so George stands there…in the courtroom.
Silent.
No more excuses.
Just the truth.
And the judge walks in.
Everyone rises.
The room settles.
And the case is laid out—clearly, calmly, without exaggeration.
And George hears it all again.
Every decision. Every compromise. Every betrayal.
And something settles in his heart.
Because the truth is. ..he doesn’t really want to argue anymore.
He knows.
He is guilty.
And finally, the judge speaks:
“George.. .you were entrusted with much. You were trusted, and you have broken that trust.”
And then the words he expected:
“You are guilty.”
And in that moment…there’s a strange clarity.
Because even though it’s painful…
he knows it’s right.
Justice has been spoken.
And now, stay there for just a moment.
Because this is where every human life stands before God,
Our final judgment.
Not with someone else’s story…
but with the truth of our own lives.
And if God is just—and He is—
then He cannot simply pretend that sin doesn’t matter.
He cannot just wave it away.
Because what is broken, is real.
The harm is real.
The betrayal is real.
Sin hurts us; it hurts the people around us; it hurts the body of Christ.
And so if there is only justice…
then we are in trouble.
Because justice means giving us what we deserve.
But now…watch what happens next.
Because the judge does something no one expects.
He looks at George…
and he says:
“The sentence will be carried out.”
“You are sentenced to death.”
And then…
he pauses.
He takes off his robe…
steps down from the bench..
walks around…
and comes to stand right next to George.
And the whole courtroom is confused.
What is he doing?
And then the judge says:
“I will take the sentence.”
“l will bear the punishment.”
“l will pay the cost…for him.”
“l will die, so that you may live.”
My Friends…that is what we just heard in the Passion.
That is what the Cross is.
God does not ignore justice.
He fulfills it.
Every sin.
Every betrayal.
is taken seriously.
So seriously…
that it is carried…by Christ Himself.
He steps down.
He does not remain distant.
He enters into our place.
And the punishment that we deserve…
It is not dismissed.
It is taken on,
By Him.
And He does not do this reluctantly.
He does not do this with hesitation.
He does it out of love.
Out of mercy.
A mercy that is not cheap…
but costs everything.
Now, here’s the part we can miss.
Because we hear the Passion Narrative every year.
We hear about the Cross.
We hear that Jesus died for our sins.
And if we’re not careful…we let it stay there.
At a distance.
As something we believe.. -something historical but we don’t really enter into.
But what if that Cross is not just something that happened…
What if it is something being offered?
What if the mercy that flows from the Cross…
is meant for you?
Not in general.
Not in theory.
But right there—in the place where you know the truth about yourself.
This is exactly what Jesus wanted the world to understand.
So, In the early 20th century, Jesus appeared to a simple Polish nun, Saint Faustina.
She was not famous. Not powerful. Not impressive in the world’s eyes.
But to her, Jesus revealed something extraordinary.
He showed her His Heart.
A Heart burning with mercy.
And He asked her to tell the world.
To remind us…of something we forget.
That His mercy is greater than our sin.
In one of her visions, she saw Jesus standing, with rays of light flowing from His Heart.
And He told her:
“Paint an image according to the pattern you see, with the signature: “Jesus, I trust in You.”
And that image—the image of Divine Mercy —is not just a picture.
It is an invitation.
And listen to what Jesus said to her:
“The greater the sinner, the greater the right he has to My mercy.”
Let that sink in.
Not the smaller sinner.
Not the person who has it mostly together.
But the one who knows:
“1 did this.”
Now, to be honest, this is where people start to get uncomfortable.
Because we’re okay with mercy. ..in theory.
We’re a little less okay with it when it applies to people like us.
And yet, that is exactly the point.
Because the question is no longer:
“Am I good enough?” “Have I done enough?”
“Have I prayed enough?
The question becomes:
“Will I trust in Him?”
And so the Church gives us this incredible gift.
The Divine Mercy Novena begins this Friday, Good Friday, and leads to Divine Mercy Sunday the week after Easter.
My friends, let’s pray this Novena.
Pray the Chaplet of Divine Mercy.
Come to confession.
Receive Holy Communion.
Pray for the intentions of the Holy Father Pope Leo.
And on Divine Mercy Sunday, the Church offers an incredible act of Christ’s Mercy, a plenary indulgence. Yes, those are still a thing.
The full remission of the punishment due to sin.
Not because we earned it.
But because Christ has already paid the price.
So here is the invitation.
Enter into this Holy Week.
Not as spectators.
But as people who know the truth.
Because at the end of the day…
we are all standing in that courtroom.
We are all George.
And the question is not whether we are guilty.
The question is:
Will we allow the Judge…
who has stepped down from his cross…
who has taken our place…
to give us what we do not deserve?
His mercy.
“Jesus, I trust in you.”