Welcome to Palm Sunday

This day is a major festival celebrated in churches all around the world. In some

countries, it involves public processions that emulate Jesus’ entrance into

Jerusalem. Palm leaves are waved, banners are raised—sometimes even

donkeys are used! Palm crosses are made and given to all. It is a joyful

celebration after the Lenten season, and yet it also anticipates the sombre

journey of Holy Week.

Festivals like this create traditions in which all—including children—can grow up

in the faith. We may wonder if we will ever be allowed to have such public

processions here in Singapore. Perhaps one day!

There is something to be said about how our faith should not be

merely “invisible” or purely cognitive. This emphasis on a private, inward faith is,

in part, a legacy of the Enlightenment. We are trained to think, analyse, and

internalise. There is also a certain caution—even fear—of associating faith with

physical objects, dates, and practices, lest they be seen as idolatrous or

superstitious. That is why some Christians today do not even celebrate

Christmas!

But historically, both the Jewish and Christian faiths have always sought

to redeem time, place, and culture—to give them God-centred meaning.

If we emphasise only the “invisible” and the “private,” what remains are purely

secular festivals and traditions.

Over time, we become more conscious of our racial traditions (e.g. Chinese New

Year), or our national identity (e.g. National Day, patriotic songs), —all of which

are good in themselves.

But it leaves us asking: Why has the Christian faith retreated from the public

space? Why has it become so privatised? And what will happen to our children?

They may grow up without a faith that is visible, embodied, and integrated

with life.

If Jesus Christ is truly pre-eminent in our lives, then that reality should be seen

— not only on Sundays, but in every aspect of our lives. Palm Sunday—and the

whole of Holy Week—reminds us of this.

We celebrate not only for ourselves, but for one another, and even as a witness

to the wider world.

This raises another important question: How important is the visible church?

The visible church will always take institutional form—this is unavoidable in an

ordered society. After all, even MPCC has a UEN number! But if Christianity

becomes entirely disorganised, decentralised and purely individual, then what

will we pass on to the next generation? How will we instil discipline, form habits

of worship and create structures where faith can be nurtured and grow?

Think about it this way, if secular education can be done informally, why do we

still send our children to school? And why, then, might schools seem more

important than churches?

If we withdraw and “ghettoise” ourselves—as believers are forced to do in

persecuted contexts—then we risk failing to steward the freedom we have been

given for the sake of the Gospel.

Just recently, I was teaching on the growth of Christianity in Singapore over the

past two centuries. The early missionaries sacrificed much—for a faith that was

visibly distinct and yet deeply integrated with life. We see their legacy all around

us—in church buildings, institutions, and land set apart for worship.

This year, we celebrate our 50th Anniversary. We are standing on the work and

sacrifices of those who came before us. And so the question for us is:

What will we leave behind for the next generation?

May our faith not be hidden, but seen, lived, and passed on— so that those who

come after us will not inherit an empty space, but a living, visible faith.