As we enter Holy Week, we begin with a scene that feels triumphant.
Jesus rides into Jerusalem. Crowds gather. Cloaks are spread on the road. Palm branches are waved. Voices rise:
“Hosanna to the Son of David!”
“Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”
Matthew 21:9 (NIV)
There’s energy. Expectation. Hope.
It feels like everything is finally coming together.
But just a few days later, everything changes.
The crowds go quiet.
The cheers disappear.
And in their place—silence, fear, and even rejection.
By Friday, Jesus is hanging on a cross.
And what strikes me every year is not just how quickly things turned…
but how familiar that pattern feels.
When Faith Follows the Crowd
It’s easy to look at the people in Jerusalem and wonder how they could shift so quickly.
How do you go from praising Jesus on Sunday… to abandoning Him by Friday?
But if I’m honest, I’ve done the same thing.
Not with palm branches and public crowds—but in quieter, more subtle ways.
There are moments when my faith feels strong—when I’m aligned with God, when I’m seeking Him, when I’m walking closely with Him.
And then there are moments when I drift.
When I shrink back.
When I choose comfort over obedience.
When I go quiet about my faith because it might be awkward or inconvenient.
Or worse—when I fail, and instead of running to God, I pull away from Him.
I’m ashamed to admit how many times I’ve run from Him…
when I should have been running to Him.
How about you?
Even His Closest Friends
It wasn’t just the crowd.
Jesus’ closest friends—His disciples—also faltered.
Peter, who boldly declared he would never leave Jesus, that he would follow Jesus even to death, denied even knowing Him. Three times.
The others scattered.
In Jesus’ darkest hour, the people who had walked most closely with Him…
abandoned Him.
That’s what fickle faith looks like.
It’s not always loud rebellion.
Sometimes it’s quiet retreat.
I’m not blaming the disciples. I’m ashamed to admit that I’m pretty sure I would have done the same thing.
What Makes Faith Fickle?
When I step back and look at it honestly, fickle faith often grows out of a few familiar places.
Sometimes it’s unmet expectations.
The people cheering on Palm Sunday were expecting a king who would overthrow Rome. When Jesus didn’t fit that picture, their enthusiasm faded.
Sometimes it’s conditional commitment.
I’ll follow God—as long as things make sense…
as long as it’s comfortable…
as long as it doesn’t cost too much.
And sometimes—often—it’s fear.
Not fear that God isn’t real—
but fear of what it might mean to fully align my life with Him.
The disciples didn’t suddenly stop believing in Jesus.
They were just afraid to be associated with Him when it could have cost them their lives, when it mattered most.
A Different Kind of Faith
So what does non-fickle faith look like?
It’s not perfect faith.
It’s not necessarily even fearless faith.
Non-fickle faith is faith that stays.
It stays when things are confusing.
It stays when following Jesus is costly.
It stays when emotions fade and clarity is hard to find.
And maybe most importantly—
It runs toward Jesus, not away from Him… even after failure. Especially after failure.
After denying Jesus, Peter could have disappeared.
He could have hidden in shame. At first, he did. He went away, weeping bitterly, when he realized what he had done.
But instead of remaining trapped in his self-pity, when he encountered the risen Jesus… he came back.
And Jesus restored him—not with condemnation, but with love.
That’s the difference.
Fickle faith hides—hoping God didn’t notice.
Faithful faith returns—trusting that He already knows… and still restores.
Not Ashamed
The apostle Paul puts it this way:
“For I am not ashamed of the gospel, because it is the power of God that brings salvation to everyone who believes.”
Romans 1:16 (NIV)
Non-fickle faith is unashamed faith.
Not loud.
Not performative.
But settled.
A faith that says:
My relationship with God matters more than my reputation.
More than my comfort.
More than my need to understand everything.
It’s a reordering of priorities—
where Jesus is not just part of my life, but the center of it.
The Faithfulness That Holds Us
And here’s the part that gives me the most hope.
Our faith may be fickle at times.
But Jesus is not.
Even when the crowd turned…
Even when the disciples ran…
Even when Peter denied Him…
Jesus stayed.
He stayed on the path to the cross.
He stayed faithful to His mission.
He stayed committed to us.
The story of Holy Week isn’t just about the weakness of human faith.
It’s about the unshakable faithfulness of Christ.
What About Us?
So here’s the question I’m carrying into this week—and maybe you’ll carry it too:
Where am I tempted to drift away from Jesus… instead of toward Him?
Pay attention to the moments when your faith feels easy.
And also to the moments when it feels costly.
When you’re tempted to go quiet.
To pull back.
To hide.
And in those moments…
Pause.
And choose—even in a small way—to move toward Him instead of away.
A question to carry into this week:
When I stumble, do I move away from Jesus… or toward Him?
Staying Instead of Drifting
The goal isn’t perfect faith.
It’s faithful direction.
Because the difference between fickle faith and faithful faith
isn’t whether we stumble—
It’s which direction we go when we do.
Palm Sunday reminds us how quickly our hearts can shift.
Good Friday reminds us how far Jesus was willing to go for us anyway.
And somewhere in between, we’re invited to live with a different kind of faith.
Not louder.
Not flashier.
Just steadier.
A faith that stays.
Even when it’s hard.
Even when it’s quiet.
Even when it costs something.
Because He stayed for us.
And He’s still with us now, regardless of how many times we’ve denied Him.










