{"id":36016,"date":"2026-03-29T06:00:39","date_gmt":"2026-03-29T10:00:39","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/freelancechristianity\/?p=36016"},"modified":"2026-03-25T13:44:55","modified_gmt":"2026-03-25T17:44:55","slug":"a-palm-sunday-reflection-blessed-is-he-who-comes","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/freelancechristianity\/a-palm-sunday-reflection-blessed-is-he-who-comes\/","title":{"rendered":"A Palm Sunday Reflection: Blessed is He Who Comes"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<\/head>

Today is Palm Sunday, one of the most dramatic days on the liturgical calendar. But there is one reported event attributed to Palm Sunday that makes an appearance in the liturgy every Sunday. And each time I say or sing this part of the liturgy, I remember a beloved colleague.\"\"<\/p>\n

Rodney Delasanta was one of best teachers and colleagues I ever had the privilege of knowing. Rodney was a true Renaissance man\u2014a Chaucer scholar, family man, sports fan (especially the Red Sox), award-winning accordion player (really), and classical music aficionado.<\/p>\n

The accordion fact made him a regular recipient of a lame accordion joke from me. \u201cWhat is the definition of a gentleman? A man who knows how to play the accordion\u2014and doesn\u2019t.\u201d Once Rodney responded with an even better one: An accordion player is trying to find the location of his latest gig in downtown Manhattan. He parks his station wagon on the street with his accordion in the back, locks it, and sets out on foot to find the address. Upon returning to his vehicle he is crestfallen to find that the back window has been broken\u2014and even more crestfallen to find five more accordions in the back of the station wagon!<\/p>\n

Rodney lived fifteen miles from campus, and told me shortly after we met that he had spent the past several months of commuting (fifteen miles is a\u00a0very<\/b>\u00a0long commute in Rhode Island) listening to Bach\u2019s\u00a0Mass in B minor<\/i>, about which he was as exuberantly effusive as he was about life in general. He particularly loved Bach\u2019s setting of the Sanctus<\/i>\u00a0in this composition. According to Isaiah\u2019s vision of the throne of God, the angels continually sing\u00a0\u201cHoly, Holy, Holy, is the Lord\u00a0God of Hosts; heaven and earth are fully of\u00a0His glory.\u201d\u00a0This\u00a0inspired Bach\u2019s setting,\u00a0music that Rodney, in his usual measured fashion, declared to be the \u201cmost glorious six minutes of music ever written.\u201d<\/p>\n

Sanctus, sanctus, sanctus<\/b>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Holy, Holy, Holy Lord<\/p>\n

Dominus Deus Sabaoth,<\/b>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0God of power and might<\/p>\n

Pleni\u00a0sunt coeli et terra<\/b>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Heaven and earth are full of Your glory<\/p>\n

Gloria eius.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/b>Hosanna in the highest<\/b><\/p>\n

I miss Rodney. As a senior faculty member currently in my thirty-second year on campus, I now play the role for younger faculty that Rodney did for me. He died of cancer a number of years ago; the nine years I spent teaching honors students on an interdisciplinary team with him during my early years at Providence College strongly influenced \u00a0me both as a teacher and a human being. I cannot listen to any setting of the Sanctus<\/em>, particularly Bach\u2019s, without thinking of Rodney fondly.<\/p>\n