President Jeffrey R. Holland was quoting Elder Richard L. Evans this most recent General Conference when he said, “Many of us profess to be Christians, yet we … do not take Him seriously. … We respect Him, but we don’t follow Him. … We quote His sayings, but we don’t live by them.” “We admire Him, but we don’t worship Him.”

That last bit, that we “admire Him, but we don’t worship Him” made me gasp out loud because it hit so close to home. Since hearing it, I have puzzled and pondered about what exactly it would look like to worship and not just admire Jesus in my life.

So it was, with this question never far from my mind, that I found myself sitting in the choir seats of the Tabernacle in Salt Lake City, preparing to sing as part of a Palm Sunday concert this past weekend. Palm Sunday has always been a day that I’ve wished to be able to celebrate more. I’ve never known quite how to do it, but when the company I narrate Rob Gardner’s Lamb of God for opened the invitation for anyone who wanted to participate, I jumped at the chance.

One speaker voiced what I have always felt, that if I had a time machine and could go back and personally witness one moment in history, it would be Christ’s triumphal entry into the holy city of Jerusalem. But with that General Conference question in my mind, I suddenly wondered if that desire is so that I could be a silent observer or if I would wave my own palm and cheer.

I would hope that I couldn’t be kept from cheering. In Luke 19, when the Pharisees, scandalized by the cacophony, asked Jesus to rebuke his disciples, he answered: “I tell you that, if these should hold their peace, the stones would immediately cry out.”

The streets of Jerusalem were filled with ‘Hosanna’ that day, which one of the events’ speakers, David Butler, described as, “the one-word testimony that is both ‘save me’ and ‘thank you’ at the same time, it’s a joy that’s born out of both desperation and hope in a single sound. It is that prayer and plea for help, and a praise for the one who actually can help us.”

Do I have in me the cry of praise or only the cry for help?

Perhaps that is what I forget in my admiration of Jesus that sometimes lacks worship. I look to Him in grief, but not in gratitude.

When is the last time I said a prayer that was simply, “Thank you, Jesus, for what you did; what you’re still doing. Thank you for walking a difficult mortal path to make mine easier. Thank you for the compassion you offer me and thank you for bringing me the victory of redemption that I could never have gotten for myself. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

If the gratitude we should feel towards Jesus had a voice, it would sound just like the Tabernacle did Sunday night. The audience was encouraged from the opening to keep praise in mind as their purpose and to clap after or even during numbers. Members of Debra Bonner’s Unity Gospel Choir sat in the very front row when they weren’t onstage performing and their vocal exuberance encouraged the rest of the congregation out of their shell.

In addition to the hollers and cheers, 1000 palm fronds were distributed among the audience, and as we all joined in a medley of hymns, the audience began to wave their palms. I had heard that this was going to happen, but it did not prepare me for how moving it was to see from the stand. Witnessing this sea of historied foliage swaying back and forth, I was floored with the sheer volume of people joining in praise. It was a small but mighty symbol of the prophecy that “every knee shall bow and every tongue confess” that Jesus is the Christ.

I had never considered that that confession might erupt out of joy. As we sang the final hymn in the medley, All Creatures of Our God and King, some in the crowd began to spontaneously spring to their feet and wave after wave of people followed. It was as if they were the stones that couldn’t be kept from crying out. Tears streamed down my face at the sight. And the spirit was resonating in the room as strongly as the united voices echoing off the unique pioneer architecture that gives this place its unforgettable sound.

I was moved by the crowd. But I was also surprised by how meaningful it felt to be able to pick out individuals, like the little girl on her daddy’s shoulder in the top row of the back, dutifully flicking her leaf. I felt deeply impressed that Jesus cares about the little girl’s specific leaf just as much as about the whole sea of them.

As David Butler said at the event, of the people then and the people now, “I want to know their reasons for waving their palms. What is their prayer? What is their praise?” He talked of the others in Jerusalem who asked who this was all for and said, “Some might answer the way the crowd did; ‘This is Jesus, who never gave up on me. This is Jesus who healed the broken part of my heart that no one else knew was broken. This is Jesus who walked with me through doubt and despair and fear and failure. This is Jesus who cheered on my dreams louder than anyone else. This is Jesus who met me in my midnight hour. This is Jesus.”

What would we tell a questioning stranger about this Jesus? Would we speak with admiration? Or a spirit of worship?

Being at the Tabernacle for Palm Sunday taught me that that worship doesn’t just involve increased reverence, it involves exploring and expressing our joy at the truths we know and the Savior we have. When Brother Butler mentioned that the triumphal entry was not the first time Jesus had come and it wouldn’t be the last, whoops and hollers and joyous cheers erupted from the crowd.

And that is how we should feel; we come to Jesus in our sorrow, He provides the salve for our wounds that can’t be healed anywhere else, but I also want to remember Him in joy. I want to stop and realize more often how astonished I am that He rode into the city for us that blessed day so long ago; that He will ride into the city again some not-so-distant day in the future and that He has been there for us every day in between.

I encourage you to add a prayer of praise to your Holy Week. Take a moment to transform your admiration to worship by addressing Him directly in joyful gratitude. Raise your proverbial palm leaf and don’t forget to make your Hosanna a cry of ‘thank you’ and not just ‘save me’.

If you would like to see this Palm Sunday celebration, the livestream recording is still available by CLICKING HERE.