Nearly every Palm Sunday sermon I heard growing up emphasized the inevitable hypocrisy of those who would be shouting Jesus’ praise on one day and crying “crucify him!” just days later. During these sermons I always pictured the crowds as wicked bearded villains (perhaps with pirate hats?). I most certainly never pictured them being anything like me. That is why it was so confusing when, without any sense of irony, we all picked up Palm leaves and cried, “Hosannah!” just like those bearded hypocrite-pirates that we knew turned on Jesus later. I knew that there were sides but I lost track of whose side to be on. Sunday? Friday?