After my tour of the Churches and Cathedrals in San Sabastian, I am already looking to plan my next trip. The medieval village of Mont St Michael, France is calling… https://www.ot-montsaintmichel.com/en/discover/visit-the-mont-saint-michel/the-mont-saint-michel-differently/spend-a-night-at-the-mont-saint-michel/ Where do you have planned ?

On the Monday of Holy Week, Christ enters the Temple and drives out those who had turned it into a place of trade. He declares: “My house shall be called a house of prayer, but you have made it a den of robbers.” (Matthew 21:13) This moment reveals His authority and zeal for the holiness of God’s house. The Temple is not a marketplace, but a place set apart for worship, reverence, and prayer. It’s also a moment that challenges us personally. It’s easy to let other things take priority. Noise, routine, distractions… even in the spaces meant for God. Christ’s actions remind us to step back, clear what doesn’t belong, and return to prayer with honesty and reverence.

Palm Sunday marks the beginning of Holy Week. It’s the moment the Church remembers Christ entering Jerusalem, welcomed by crowds waving palm branches. At Mass, you’re not just hearing about it—you’re stepping into it. As you arrive, you’ll usually be given a palm. Take one. It’s not just a symbol or a keepsake—it becomes part of the liturgy itself. Early in the Mass, the priest blesses the palms with holy water, setting them apart as sacramentals. In some churches, Mass begins with a short procession. People stand or walk while holding their palms, echoing the crowd that welcomed Christ. Even if there isn’t a full procession, that same meaning is still there in the opening. The Gospel is different on this day. It’s longer, and it recounts the Passion—Christ’s suffering and death. You may even be asked to speak as part of the crowd during the reading. That’s intentional. It brings home the reality that this isn’t just history—it involves all of us. At the end of Mass, take your palm home with you. Don’t leave it behind. Many people place it near a crucifix or keep it somewhere in their home as a quiet reminder throughout the year. Some even return old palms the following year, where they’re burned to create the ashes used on Ash Wednesday. Palm Sunday starts with honour and praise, but it quickly turns toward the Cross. The same voices that cried out in welcome would later call for Christ’s crucifixion. That contrast is the point. It invites a real question—whether our faith stays steady, or shifts when things become difficult.

Here’s the reading for the coming Sunday. This marks Palm Sunday, the beginning of Holy Week, where we remember Christ’s entry into Jerusalem. Jesus enters not as a worldly king, but in humility, riding on a donkey, fulfilling prophecy and revealing the true nature of His kingship. The crowds recognise something significant and cry out, “Hosanna to the Son of David”, welcoming Him as the Messiah. At the same time, there is confusion. As the city is stirred, people ask, “Who is this?” Even in this moment of praise, He is not fully understood. Palm Sunday holds both sides together. It is a moment of recognition, but also the beginning of the path to the Cross. The same voices that welcome Him will soon turn. The same city that praises will later reject. Feel free to share your thoughts and reflections

Reflecting on yesterday’s readings, especially the warning against bearing false witness and condemning the innocent, it brought to mind the story of the Knights Templar. In Scripture we are told: “You shall not bear false witness” (Exodus 20:16) and “Do not condemn the innocent or the righteous” (Exodus 23:7) — a clear call to truth and justice. The Knights Templar were men who served God and the Church faithfully for nearly two centuries, protecting pilgrims and living under a strict religious rule. Yet in 1307, King Philip IV of France, who was heavily in debt to them, had them arrested and accused of heresy and false crimes. Many were tortured into giving false confessions, and the pressure placed on the Church was immense. The order was eventually dissolved, not through clear proof of guilt, but largely to bring peace under political pressure. What’s striking is that later evidence, including the Chinon Parchment, shows that the Pope actually absolved the Templar leaders of heresy before the order was suppressed. It’s a sobering reminder of how truth can be distorted, how the innocent can suffer, and how power can influence justice — something Scripture warns us about clearly. A powerful example of why we’re called to stand firmly in truth, even when the cost is high.