Today, we remember the parade -- the longest running parade in history!
This parade was extremely significant to the Gospel writers and the early church.
I can think of no other event in the life of Jesus that occurs in all four gospels.
It is important for us to remember Palm Sunday.
It
is up to each new generation of believers to keep the story of this
moment alive so that Jesus himself lives on in the church.
Today we remember Palm Sunday --
the beginning of the week that was –
Jesus' entrance into the city of Jerusalem.
According to Mark and Matthew this was the first time Jesus ever went to the big city.
Up until now, his entire ministry, his entire life,
had been spent out in the hinterlands, in Jabip,
in little rural communities within walking distance of one another in the countryside known as Galilee.
But, now he went to Jerusalem --
the capital city --
the only big city --
the center of commerce for the whole region --
but, more importantly, the sacred city,
the home of the Temple,
the Holy See of the Jewish faith,
the center of all Judaism.
And here comes Jesus – the country-boy,
the itinerant preacher,
a man on a mission –
and a small rag tag band of his followers,
all simple county-folk,
all probably approaching the big city for the first time in their lives.
No doubt there was excitement in the air –
and a lot of fear and apprehension.
They all had heard stories about the city.
How you had to watch yourself at every turn.
They did things differently in the city.
They knew not about city ways, city customs, about city life.
His closest followers tried to talk Jesus out of going:
We've been fairly successful getting the word out around the country-side.
There is still much to be done among our kind of people.
Why rock the boat?
Why move into Jerusalem now?
Why not stay where we are a little longer?
But, Jesus was on a mission.
It was like he was obsessed –
he was drawn to the city –
he had to go.
In spite of the warnings, Jesus approached the city.
Today, we come here and we remember the parade.
It is right for us take time each year to remember, and to be reminded of, the parade.
One preacher asserts that it is the longest running parade in history!
Our parade is older, and far more meaningful, than the Mummer’s parade.
Our parade is older, and far more meaningful than Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade.
Our
parade is older, and far more meaningful than the St. Patrick’s Day
parade, the Columbus Day parade, and any “other-Day” parade you can
think of.
Our parade could be the original “ticker-tape” parade –
the original million man march –
the original demonstration march.
Parades seem to have a way of stirring up emotions and releasing us from inhibitions, don’t they?
(I believe that is one of the main motivating factors for those who participate in the Mummers Day Parade each year.)
It's what we see in Marti Gras parades.
And it's what we see happening in our scripture reading today.
Contrary to some of the movies you have seen,
not every one in Jerusalem participated in the parade that day.
To be sure, most people didn't know anything was going on – or hadn't a clue what it was about if they did see it happening.
It would have been not unlike a demonstration on Broad Street that ties up traffic during rush hour some times.
Unless you were there, and encountered the crowds, you wouldn't even have known what had happened.
And even if you were there, chances are you wouldn't have had a clue as what they were protesting, or celebrating.
But, the parade into Jerusalem turned into one of the most significant events in the lives of the first century Christians.
This parade was extremely significant to the Gospel writers and the early church.
It is one of very few events all four gospels describe.
In fact, I can think of no other event in the life of Jesus that occurs in all four gospels –
all four gospels speak of Jesus entering into Jerusalem riding on the back of a donkey
and being ushered through the streets by a parade of folks dancing and singing and carrying on.
It was an important event.
It was a significant event.
It was a meaningful event.
It was an event worth remembering for those early Christians.
I believe that it is an event worth remembering for us, as well.
I think it is important for us to remember Palm Sunday for three reasons:
As they did in Jerusalem that day, it is right and important for us to recognize the Christ that comes in to our busy lives, (even – and maybe especially – when we are not expecting it);
and
As they did in Jerusalem that day, it is right and important for us to take a public stand and give public witness to our faith;
and
As they did in Jerusalem that day, it is right and important for us to party – to celebrate the presence of Christ.
It
was Palm Sunday, and the mother’s 3-year old son had to stay home from
church because of strep throat. When the rest of the family came back
from church carrying the palm branches, the little boy asked what they
were for.
His mother explained, “Well, People held them over their heads and waved as Jesus walked by.”
The boy fumed:
“Wouldn’t you know it. The one Sunday I don’t go, and Jesus shows up.”
The city was crowded on that day.
It was the high holy festival of Passover.
In
those days there were no Synagogues in the towns around Galilee – so
everyone had to go to the Temple in Jerusalem to for proper observance
of the holy day.
Jerusalem was the largest city for
hundreds of miles – it was a cosmopolitan place populated by people from
all corners of the world –
from all walks of life –
and filled to overflowing with tourists –
visitors – pilgrims –
there for the festival.
The narrow streets were crowded with the hustle and bustle of people going from here to there and back again.
And, every once in a while, someone important would come through.
Horses
and chariots were used to make a hole in the crowd and move VIPs
through the throngs. Oftentimes the VIPs would have entourages moving
through the crowds with them and people would have to stand back and
make a way for them go through.
So, there were many mini-parades like this through the streets of the city every day of the year – and even more so this day.
And, so the Gospel writers tell us that Jesus entered the city that day with his entourage –
in many ways mocking the VIP parades.
Now, when I think about this story, I think if I were writing the script it would be somewhat different.
I would have Jesus coming in riding on a blazing white stallion, (you know?), kicking up a cloud of dust as He rode along.
The people he passed would be in awe of such a beautiful animal –
but they would be even more awestruck by the man who was riding it.
As Jesus passed by, you could hear the people say,
"Who was that masked man?"
You see, there were bad guys on the loose and Jesus had a job to do.
As
he rode into Jerusalem he would quickly size up the situation and form a
plan to capture the ring leader of the trouble makers:
Diablo, the Evil One.
There would be a short fight, (like at the OK Corral) but the outcome would never be in doubt.
Jesus easily defeats Diablo.
He handcuffs the devil and throws him in jail.
As a large crowd of people gathers to see what the commotion was all about, Jesus mounts his horse and pulls on the reins.
His pure white stallion stands on its hind legs, neighing loudly, and pawing the air with its
front legs.
When it stands as tall as it could stand, Jesus leans forward in the saddle.
Holding the reins with one hand while lifting his white hat in the air with the other,
he shouts with a loud voice, "Hi Ho Silver, the Lone Savior."
As Jesus road off into the sunset, the music begins to play softly and gets louder and louder.
(The William Tell Overture).
{Adapted from "Not the Lone Ranger, But the Lone Savior," by Roger Griffith}
Well, you know, it really must have seemed rather comic-like to some, when the long-awaited Messiah entered the city –
even though it was all happening according to what the Hebrew Scriptures had said –
the Messiah would come lowly and humble, on the back of a donkey.
While the image should have brought people's minds to the teachings, which one would expect them to recall,
just like us –
in the midst of things happening around us –
they probably did not make the connection,
at least not immediately.
The disciples of Jesus seem to be somewhat confused in the whole thing themselves.
It was, however, a well thought out, pre-planned event, at least on the part of Jesus.
It was in no way a haphazard plan, was it?
It was meant to be an exact representation, which would convey a precise message to all who would see it – hear about it.
We are reminded, nevertheless, that it really did not make all that much sense,
nor was it understood, until after Easter!
While
the hosannas and hoopla that accompanied Jesus as he made his way into
Jerusalem on the spindly donkey colt may have seemed spontaneous,
today’s text from Matthew suggests that he knew exactly what he was
doing,
and his entourage even knew exactly what was expected of them.
* Jesus set the stage by calling for the scripturally prescribed animal.
* The disciples acted with complete and immediate obedience – a sure sign that they knew something was up.
*
And, apparently, at least some in the City that day seeing Jesus
approach, already accompanied by his own disciples and by those he had
previously healed and taught, knew what they were seeing.
* Observant Jews, pious travelers on their way into Jerusalem for Passover, had also heard stories of this man Jesus.
Now,
as he appeared mounted on the donkey colt, some of the people brought
their long-established traditions, their long-held hopes, to life.
They joyfully joined in the moment,
celebrating the symbolic arrival of a messianic figure,
a prophet as foretold,
with the cries and obeisance deserved by such a dignitary.
They recognized and celebrated the presence of Christ in their midst –
even as they had pressing business at hand to attend to.
As we remember and attempt to recreate the moment Jesus processed into Jerusalem,
we reveal a vital truth about ourselves to our friends and neighbors.
This truth is, we are Christians.
Our faith has feet.
This parade is part of a vital heritage,
a history of sacrifice and service,
of triumph and love.
It
is up to each new generation of believers to keep the story of this
moment alive so that Jesus himself lives on in the church.
So, today, we celebrate and remember.
But where does it go from there?
Does our marching have a destination?
If
all we do at the conclusion of Palm Sunday is hunker down and hide our
identity, then like those folks that welcomed him with shouts in
Jerusalem, we too are abandoning Jesus the moment he gets off the
donkey.
How can we justify going back to life as usual when we have just shouted in the arrival of our king,
our messiah, our Savior?
How can we become true participants in the longest running parade in history — the Jesus parade?
It seems to me that the essence of a parade is a party atmosphere and party spirit.
And the faith question for each of us today is:
Can your spirit party even when everything around you is falling down and coming apart?
Can you trust and obey Jesus enough to party through the jeers as well as the cheers?
Can you wave palm branches and sing hosannas in good times – and in bad times,
in the midst of sorrows as well as celebrations,
on Good Friday as well as No-Name Saturday and Easter morning.
Today, we need to remember there really should be one membership requirement for all those who would join the Jesus parade:
Do you promise to party and celebrate the God who became one of us in good times and bad, for better and for worse?
Any
church that parades around its block or its neighborhood singing,
waving tree parts, and carrying on should also require all its
congregation, as part of their membership vows, to sign a party
agreement form: you get kicked out if you can’t/won’t party.
What is making us a hardened-heart, stiff-necked people?
What is making us closed-eared, stone-faced, frostbitten?
What is sapping our joy?
What is shutting down our parade?
What is sending us scuttling home to hide?
I think the message for us is that we need to keep the party going
and to keep the parade moving – in good times and bad.
It’s a matter of faith.
It’s a matter of faith affirmation.
It’s
a matter of affirming in the face of the whole world around us that
Christ is head of our life – come what may, no matter what.
You can’t join the Jesus parade and not celebrate.
When you join the Jesus parade, you party.
You wave your hands and dance for joy –
not just when life is going your way –
but even when that Perfect Storm called Good Friday hits with all its might.
Palm Sunday reminds us to party on people –
in good times and in bad.
Christ is here.
Celebrate!
Hozanna!
Amen!
This
sermon was delivered to the congregation at The Connecting Place:
Christ Presbyterian Church in Drexel Hill, Pennsylvania, USA, March 28,
2010
Sermons and writings of the Reverend Clyde Griffith, currently ministering from his residence in Griffith's Woods SouthWest (GWSW), Tulsa, Oklahoma, USA.
Showing posts with label parade. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parade. Show all posts
Friday, April 12, 2019
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
Demonstrating Your Faith
True religion is not unlike the circus.
It offers mystery, miracle, risk, and a glow that lingers through the years.
"When they ask what happened here,
We'll simply say Christ came by and we learned his dance..."
The Christ we remember riding into Jerusalem that Palm Sunday long ago,
the Christ we experience and know to be with us today in thick and in thin,
the Christ we call Lord,
is the Lord of the Dance,
the Lord of all that is our life.
Parades seem to have a way of stirring up emotions and releasing us from inhibitions, don’t they?
(I believe that is one of the main motivating factors for those who participate in the Mummers Day Parade each year.)
It's what we see in Marti Gras parades.
And it's what we see happening in our scripture reading today.
Contrary to some of the movies you have seen,
not every one in Jerusalem participated in the parade that day.
To be sure, most people didn't know anything was going on –
or hadn't a clue what it was about if they did see it happening.
It would have been not unlike a demonstration on Broad Street that tied up traffic during rush hour some day.
Unless you were there, and encountered the crowds, you wouldn't even have known what had happened.
And even if you were there, chances are you wouldn't have had a clue as what they were protesting, or celebrating.
But the parade into Jerusalem turned into one of the most significant events in the lives of the first century Christians.
In Jesus Christ, Superstar, the crowd sings a telling line:
"Christ, you know I love you. Did you see I waved?"
Know, that even then, the waving of palm branches is not exactly prescribed behavior.
They even took the clothes off their backs, laid them on the donkey,
and even spread them on the road for the donkey to walk on!
There was no parade manual providing direction for that –
no required rehearsals for the participants.
Yet, there was no hesitation about giving up their garments,
no wondering,
no debate as to whether there might be a cheaper, more dignified way to show love and respect.
They just did it.
"Christ, you know I love you. Did you see I waved?"
Now, I have a hunch that you and I most probably would have reacted on that day pretty much like the Presbyterians we are.
If we were there,
and if we knew what was going on,
we would have been on the sidelines watching the parade, wouldn’t we? –
perhaps even thinking condescending thoughts about those that were getting carried away.
"Christ, you know I love you. Did you see I waved?"
Each year, we hear this story.
And each year it is harder for us to really relate to it.
But the message for us today is clear: "Lighten up!"
Like those who participated in the parade, lighten up . . . .
lighten up . . . . to love and laughter!
Be open and flexible enough to meet any glory that happens to come our way –
any passing parade – wherever, whenever.
Bend with it. Bend to it.
You know, it seems that we tend to stay underwhelmed because we refuse to be overwhelmed by the incredible good news of the gospel.
Too many of us live by the depressing dictum:
"Expect the worse, and you'll never be disappointed."
But, friends, that is most unChristian.
Sins of inertia are far harder to overcome than any mistakes of passion.
Seize the moment,
even if it makes us late –
or truant – for something else.
When Zacchaeus of Jericho heard that Jesus was coming to town, he shut down his tax office and climbed a tree, and that day changed his whole life.
"Christ, you know I loved you. Did you see I waved?"
Remember that Martha was so intent on keeping the meal on schedule that she missed an unrepeatable opportunity to enjoy the company of Jesus.
Stop apologizing for spontaneous celebrations.
We say, "Sorry, I was beside myself,"
or "I just got carried away."
Some of you may remember the philosopher’s (Soren Kierkegaard's) story of the geese sequestered in a yard.
Every seventh day these geese paraded to a corner of the yard, and their most eloquent orator got up on the fence and spoke of the wonders of geese.
He told of the exploits of their forefathers who dared to mount up on wings and fly all over the sky.
He spoke of the mercy of the creator who had given geese wings – and the instinct to fly.
This deeply impressed the geese, who nodded their heads solemnly.
All this they did.
Every week they would gather and hear this story over and over and over again.
One thing they did not do, though:
they did not fly.
They did not fly for the corn was good,
and the barnyard was safe and secure.
However brief and passing it was, Palm Sunday provided people with a chance to fly.
"Christ, you know I love you. Did you see I waved?"
There is a story about a boy who wanted very much to go to the circus.
However, the circus was only to be in town one day, Sunday, and his mother, who always insisted on a proper observance of the Lord's day, was reluctant to let him go.
Finally, she gave in to his pleadings and the boy was permitted to see the circus, this one time!
After the show was over the boy returned home, and his mother asked what he thought of the show.
With visions of daring young men on the flying trapeze, and elephants, and clowns still in his head, the boy replied, "Mama, if you ever get to go to the circus, just once, you'll never want to go to church again!..."
After telling this story, a commentator writes:
"In fact, the circus analogy is not altogether out of place with regard to the church.
True worship is a grand celebration,
properly accompanied by excitement and prospects of abiding joy...
true religion is not unlike the circus.
It offers mystery, miracle, risk, and a glow that lingers through the years."
In a poem about Palm Sunday, Ann Weems
suggests:
"When they ask what happened here,
We'll simply say
Christ came by and we learned his dance..."
And then, turning as if to speak to each of us, she
asks:
Are you a dancer who's never danced?
Are you a singer who's never sung?
Are you a laugher who holds it in?
Are you a weeper who's afraid to cry?
Are you someone who cares, but is afraid to love?
Do you have an alleluia deep inside you growing
rusty?
One writer said, "if we left it to the Spirit,
there would be nothing in the church but Jesus and
dancing.
That's right.
If we left it to the spirit,
there would be only the Way and the celebrating.
The Love and the alleluias.
The Living and the joy.
The Gift and the thank you.
The Song and the singing.
The Dance and the dancing.
The Good News and the shouting.
But do we believe it?"
"Christ, you know I love you. Did you see I waved?"
(Maybe there's more.)
The Christ we remember riding into Jerusalem
that Palm Sunday long ago,
the Christ we experience and know to be with us today in thick and in thin,
the Christ we call Lord,
is the Lord of the Dance,
the Lord of all that is our life.
To you and to me, on this Palm Sunday, the message is:
to Lighten up.
Dance your dance.
Sing your song.
Laugh out loud.
For the Lord is coming.
The Lord is here!
Hosanna!
Alleluia!
Amen.
The congregation of Christ Presbyterian Church in Drexel Hill, Pennsylvania, USA, experienced this sermon during a worship service on Palm Sunday, March 24, 2013.
It offers mystery, miracle, risk, and a glow that lingers through the years.
"When they ask what happened here,
We'll simply say Christ came by and we learned his dance..."
The Christ we remember riding into Jerusalem that Palm Sunday long ago,
the Christ we experience and know to be with us today in thick and in thin,
the Christ we call Lord,
is the Lord of the Dance,
the Lord of all that is our life.
Parades seem to have a way of stirring up emotions and releasing us from inhibitions, don’t they?
(I believe that is one of the main motivating factors for those who participate in the Mummers Day Parade each year.)
It's what we see in Marti Gras parades.
And it's what we see happening in our scripture reading today.
Contrary to some of the movies you have seen,
not every one in Jerusalem participated in the parade that day.
To be sure, most people didn't know anything was going on –
or hadn't a clue what it was about if they did see it happening.
It would have been not unlike a demonstration on Broad Street that tied up traffic during rush hour some day.
Unless you were there, and encountered the crowds, you wouldn't even have known what had happened.
And even if you were there, chances are you wouldn't have had a clue as what they were protesting, or celebrating.
But the parade into Jerusalem turned into one of the most significant events in the lives of the first century Christians.
In Jesus Christ, Superstar, the crowd sings a telling line:
"Christ, you know I love you. Did you see I waved?"
Know, that even then, the waving of palm branches is not exactly prescribed behavior.
They even took the clothes off their backs, laid them on the donkey,
and even spread them on the road for the donkey to walk on!
There was no parade manual providing direction for that –
no required rehearsals for the participants.
Yet, there was no hesitation about giving up their garments,
no wondering,
no debate as to whether there might be a cheaper, more dignified way to show love and respect.
They just did it.
"Christ, you know I love you. Did you see I waved?"
Now, I have a hunch that you and I most probably would have reacted on that day pretty much like the Presbyterians we are.
If we were there,
and if we knew what was going on,
we would have been on the sidelines watching the parade, wouldn’t we? –
perhaps even thinking condescending thoughts about those that were getting carried away.
"Christ, you know I love you. Did you see I waved?"
Each year, we hear this story.
And each year it is harder for us to really relate to it.
But the message for us today is clear: "Lighten up!"
Like those who participated in the parade, lighten up . . . .
lighten up . . . . to love and laughter!
Be open and flexible enough to meet any glory that happens to come our way –
any passing parade – wherever, whenever.
Bend with it. Bend to it.
You know, it seems that we tend to stay underwhelmed because we refuse to be overwhelmed by the incredible good news of the gospel.
Too many of us live by the depressing dictum:
"Expect the worse, and you'll never be disappointed."
But, friends, that is most unChristian.
Sins of inertia are far harder to overcome than any mistakes of passion.
Seize the moment,
even if it makes us late –
or truant – for something else.
When Zacchaeus of Jericho heard that Jesus was coming to town, he shut down his tax office and climbed a tree, and that day changed his whole life.
"Christ, you know I loved you. Did you see I waved?"
Remember that Martha was so intent on keeping the meal on schedule that she missed an unrepeatable opportunity to enjoy the company of Jesus.
Stop apologizing for spontaneous celebrations.
We say, "Sorry, I was beside myself,"
or "I just got carried away."
Some of you may remember the philosopher’s (Soren Kierkegaard's) story of the geese sequestered in a yard.
Every seventh day these geese paraded to a corner of the yard, and their most eloquent orator got up on the fence and spoke of the wonders of geese.
He told of the exploits of their forefathers who dared to mount up on wings and fly all over the sky.
He spoke of the mercy of the creator who had given geese wings – and the instinct to fly.
This deeply impressed the geese, who nodded their heads solemnly.
All this they did.
Every week they would gather and hear this story over and over and over again.
One thing they did not do, though:
they did not fly.
They did not fly for the corn was good,
and the barnyard was safe and secure.
However brief and passing it was, Palm Sunday provided people with a chance to fly.
"Christ, you know I love you. Did you see I waved?"
There is a story about a boy who wanted very much to go to the circus.
However, the circus was only to be in town one day, Sunday, and his mother, who always insisted on a proper observance of the Lord's day, was reluctant to let him go.
Finally, she gave in to his pleadings and the boy was permitted to see the circus, this one time!
After the show was over the boy returned home, and his mother asked what he thought of the show.
With visions of daring young men on the flying trapeze, and elephants, and clowns still in his head, the boy replied, "Mama, if you ever get to go to the circus, just once, you'll never want to go to church again!..."
After telling this story, a commentator writes:
"In fact, the circus analogy is not altogether out of place with regard to the church.
True worship is a grand celebration,
properly accompanied by excitement and prospects of abiding joy...
true religion is not unlike the circus.
It offers mystery, miracle, risk, and a glow that lingers through the years."
In a poem about Palm Sunday, Ann Weems
suggests:
"When they ask what happened here,
We'll simply say
Christ came by and we learned his dance..."
And then, turning as if to speak to each of us, she
asks:
Are you a dancer who's never danced?
Are you a singer who's never sung?
Are you a laugher who holds it in?
Are you a weeper who's afraid to cry?
Are you someone who cares, but is afraid to love?
Do you have an alleluia deep inside you growing
rusty?
One writer said, "if we left it to the Spirit,
there would be nothing in the church but Jesus and
dancing.
That's right.
If we left it to the spirit,
there would be only the Way and the celebrating.
The Love and the alleluias.
The Living and the joy.
The Gift and the thank you.
The Song and the singing.
The Dance and the dancing.
The Good News and the shouting.
But do we believe it?"
"Christ, you know I love you. Did you see I waved?"
(Maybe there's more.)
The Christ we remember riding into Jerusalem
that Palm Sunday long ago,
the Christ we experience and know to be with us today in thick and in thin,
the Christ we call Lord,
is the Lord of the Dance,
the Lord of all that is our life.
To you and to me, on this Palm Sunday, the message is:
to Lighten up.
Dance your dance.
Sing your song.
Laugh out loud.
For the Lord is coming.
The Lord is here!
Hosanna!
Alleluia!
Amen.
The congregation of Christ Presbyterian Church in Drexel Hill, Pennsylvania, USA, experienced this sermon during a worship service on Palm Sunday, March 24, 2013.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Palm Sunday: Join the Parade
Today, we remember the parade -- the longest running parade in history!
This parade was extremely significant to the Gospel writers and the early church.
I can think of no other event in the life of Jesus that occurs in all four gospels.
It is important for us to remember Palm Sunday.
It is up to each new generation of believers to keep the story of this moment alive so that Jesus himself lives on in the church.
Today we remember Palm Sunday --
the beginning of the week that was –
Jesus' entrance into the city of Jerusalem.
According to Mark and Matthew this was the first time Jesus ever went to the big city.
Up until now, his entire ministry, his entire life,
had been spent out in the hinterlands, in Jabip,
in little rural communities within walking distance of one another in the countryside known as Galilee.
But, now he went to Jerusalem --
the capital city --
the only big city --
the center of commerce for the whole region --
but, more importantly, the sacred city,
the home of the Temple,
the Holy See of the Jewish faith,
the center of all Judaism.
And here comes Jesus – the country-boy,
the itinerant preacher,
a man on a mission –
and a small rag tag band of his followers,
all simple county-folk,
all probably approaching the big city for the first time in their lives.
No doubt there was excitement in the air –
and a lot of fear and apprehension.
They all had heard stories about the city.
How you had to watch yourself at every turn.
They did things differently in the city.
They knew not about city ways, city customs, about city life.
His closest followers tried to talk Jesus out of going:
We've been fairly successful getting the word out around the country-side.
There is still much to be done among our kind of people.
Why rock the boat?
Why move into Jerusalem now?
Why not stay where we are a little longer?
But, Jesus was on a mission.
It was like he was obsessed –
he was drawn to the city –
he had to go.
In spite of the warnings, Jesus approached the city.
Today, we come here and we remember the parade.
It is right for us take time each year to remember, and to be reminded of, the parade.
One preacher asserts that it is the longest running parade in history!
Our parade is older, and far more meaningful, than the Mummer’s parade.
Our parade is older, and far more meaningful than Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade.
Our parade is older, and far more meaningful than the St. Patrick’s Day parade, the Columbus Day parade, and any “other-Day” parade you can think of.
Our parade could be the original “ticker-tape” parade –
the original million man march –
the original demonstration march.
Parades seem to have a way of stirring up emotions and releasing us from inhibitions, don’t they?
(I believe that is one of the main motivating factors for those who participate in the Mummers Day Parade each year.)
It's what we see in Marti Gras parades.
And it's what we see happening in our scripture reading today.
Contrary to some of the movies you have seen,
not every one in Jerusalem participated in the parade that day.
To be sure, most people didn't know anything was going on – or hadn't a clue what it was about if they did see it happening.
It would have been not unlike a demonstration on Broad Street that ties up traffic during rush hour some times.
Unless you were there, and encountered the crowds, you wouldn't even have known what had happened.
And even if you were there, chances are you wouldn't have had a clue as what they were protesting, or celebrating.
But, the parade into Jerusalem turned into one of the most significant events in the lives of the first century Christians.
This parade was extremely significant to the Gospel writers and the early church.
It is one of very few events all four gospels describe.
In fact, I can think of no other event in the life of Jesus that occurs in all four gospels –
all four gospels speak of Jesus entering into Jerusalem riding on the back of a donkey
and being ushered through the streets by a parade of folks dancing and singing and carrying on.
It was an important event.
It was a significant event.
It was a meaningful event.
It was an event worth remembering for those early Christians.
I believe that it is an event worth remembering for us, as well.
I think it is important for us to remember Palm Sunday for three reasons:
As they did in Jerusalem that day, it is right and important for us to recognize the Christ that comes in to our busy lives, (even – and maybe especially – when we are not expecting it);
and
As they did in Jerusalem that day, it is right and important for us to take a public stand and give public witness to our faith;
and
As they did in Jerusalem that day, it is right and important for us to party – to celebrate the presence of Christ.
It was Palm Sunday, and the mother’s 3-year old son had to stay home from church because of strep throat. When the rest of the family came back from church carrying the palm branches, the little boy asked what they were for.
His mother explained, “Well, People held them over their heads and waved as Jesus walked by.”
The boy fumed:
“Wouldn’t you know it. The one Sunday I don’t go, and Jesus shows up.”
The city was crowded on that day.
It was the high holy festival of Passover.
In those days there were no Synagogues in the towns around Galilee – so everyone had to go to the Temple in Jerusalem to for proper observance of the holy day.
Jerusalem was the largest city for hundreds of miles – it was a cosmopolitan place populated by people from all corners of the world –
from all walks of life –
and filled to overflowing with tourists –
visitors – pilgrims –
there for the festival.
The narrow streets were crowded with the hustle and bustle of people going from here to there and back again.
And, every once in a while, someone important would come through.
Horses and chariots were used to make a hole in the crowd and move VIPs through the throngs. Oftentimes the VIPs would have entourages moving through the crowds with them and people would have to stand back and make a way for them go through.
So, there were many mini-parades like this through the streets of the city every day of the year – and even more so this day.
And, so the Gospel writers tell us that Jesus entered the city that day with his entourage –
in many ways mocking the VIP parades.
Now, when I think about this story, I think if I were writing the script it would be somewhat different.
I would have Jesus coming in riding on a blazing white stallion, (you know?), kicking up a cloud of dust as He rode along.
The people he passed would be in awe of such a beautiful animal –
but they would be even more awestruck by the man who was riding it.
As Jesus passed by, you could hear the people say,
"Who was that masked man?"
You see, there were bad guys on the loose and Jesus had a job to do.
As he rode into Jerusalem he would quickly size up the situation and form a plan to capture the ring leader of the trouble makers:
Diablo, the Evil One.
There would be a short fight, (like at the OK Corral) but the outcome would never be in doubt.
Jesus easily defeats Diablo.
He handcuffs the devil and throws him in jail.
As a large crowd of people gathers to see what the commotion was all about, Jesus mounts his horse and pulls on the reins.
His pure white stallion stands on its hind legs, neighing loudly, and pawing the air with its
front legs.
When it stands as tall as it could stand, Jesus leans forward in the saddle.
Holding the reins with one hand while lifting his white hat in the air with the other,
he shouts with a loud voice, "Hi Ho Silver, the Lone Savior."
As Jesus road off into the sunset, the music begins to play softly and gets louder and louder.
(The William Tell Overture).
{Adapted from "Not the Lone Ranger, But the Lone Savior," by Roger Griffith}
Well, you know, it really must have seemed rather comic-like to some, when the long-awaited Messiah entered the city –
even though it was all happening according to what the Hebrew Scriptures had said –
the Messiah would come lowly and humble, on the back of a donkey.
While the image should have brought people's minds to the teachings, which one would expect them to recall,
just like us –
in the midst of things happening around us –
they probably did not make the connection,
at least not immediately.
The disciples of Jesus seem to be somewhat confused in the whole thing themselves.
It was, however, a well thought out, pre-planned event, at least on the part of Jesus.
It was in no way a haphazard plan, was it?
It was meant to be an exact representation, which would convey a precise message to all who would see it – hear about it.
We are reminded, nevertheless, that it really did not make all that much sense,
nor was it understood, until after Easter!
While the hosannas and hoopla that accompanied Jesus as he made his way into Jerusalem on the spindly donkey colt may have seemed spontaneous, today’s text from Matthew suggests that he knew exactly what he was doing,
and his entourage even knew exactly what was expected of them.
* Jesus set the stage by calling for the scripturally prescribed animal.
* The disciples acted with complete and immediate obedience – a sure sign that they knew something was up.
* And, apparently, at least some in the City that day seeing Jesus approach, already accompanied by his own disciples and by those he had previously healed and taught, knew what they were seeing.
* Observant Jews, pious travelers on their way into Jerusalem for Passover, had also heard stories of this man Jesus.
Now, as he appeared mounted on the donkey colt, some of the people brought their long-established traditions, their long-held hopes, to life.
They joyfully joined in the moment,
celebrating the symbolic arrival of a messianic figure,
a prophet as foretold,
with the cries and obeisance deserved by such a dignitary.
They recognized and celebrated the presence of Christ in their midst –
even as they had pressing business at hand to attend to.
As we remember and attempt to recreate the moment Jesus processed into Jerusalem,
we reveal a vital truth about ourselves to our friends and neighbors.
This truth is, we are Christians.
Our faith has feet.
This parade is part of a vital heritage,
a history of sacrifice and service,
of triumph and love.
It is up to each new generation of believers to keep the story of this moment alive so that Jesus himself lives on in the church.
So, today, we celebrate and remember.
But where does it go from there?
Does our marching have a destination?
If all we do at the conclusion of Palm Sunday is hunker down and hide our identity, then like those folks that welcomed him with shouts in Jerusalem, we too are abandoning Jesus the moment he gets off the donkey.
How can we justify going back to life as usual when we have just shouted in the arrival of our king,
our messiah, our Savior?
How can we become true participants in the longest running parade in history — the Jesus parade?
It seems to me that the essence of a parade is a party atmosphere and party spirit.
And the faith question for each of us today is:
Can your spirit party even when everything around you is falling down and coming apart?
Can you trust and obey Jesus enough to party through the jeers as well as the cheers?
Can you wave palm branches and sing hosannas in good times – and in bad times,
in the midst of sorrows as well as celebrations,
on Good Friday as well as No-Name Saturday and Easter morning.
Today, we need to remember there really should be one membership requirement for all those who would join the Jesus parade:
Do you promise to party and celebrate the God who became one of us in good times and bad, for better and for worse?
Any church that parades around its block or its neighborhood singing, waving tree parts, and carrying on should also require all its congregation, as part of their membership vows, to sign a party agreement form: you get kicked out if you can’t/won’t party.
What is making us a hardened-heart, stiff-necked people?
What is making us closed-eared, stone-faced, frostbitten?
What is sapping our joy?
What is shutting down our parade?
What is sending us scuttling home to hide?
I think the message for us is that we need to keep the party going
and to keep the parade moving – in good times and bad.
It’s a matter of faith.
It’s a matter of faith affirmation.
It’s a matter of affirming in the face of the whole world around us that Christ is head of our life – come what may, no matter what.
You can’t join the Jesus parade and not celebrate.
When you join the Jesus parade, you party.
You wave your hands and dance for joy –
not just when life is going your way –
but even when that Perfect Storm called Good Friday hits with all its might.
Palm Sunday reminds us to party on people –
in good times and in bad.
Christ is here.
Celebrate!
Hozanna!
Amen!
This sermon was delivered to the congregation at The Connecting Place: Christ Presbyterian Church in Drexel Hill, Pennsylvania, USA, March 28, 2010
This parade was extremely significant to the Gospel writers and the early church.
I can think of no other event in the life of Jesus that occurs in all four gospels.
It is important for us to remember Palm Sunday.
It is up to each new generation of believers to keep the story of this moment alive so that Jesus himself lives on in the church.
Today we remember Palm Sunday --
the beginning of the week that was –
Jesus' entrance into the city of Jerusalem.
According to Mark and Matthew this was the first time Jesus ever went to the big city.
Up until now, his entire ministry, his entire life,
had been spent out in the hinterlands, in Jabip,
in little rural communities within walking distance of one another in the countryside known as Galilee.
But, now he went to Jerusalem --
the capital city --
the only big city --
the center of commerce for the whole region --
but, more importantly, the sacred city,
the home of the Temple,
the Holy See of the Jewish faith,
the center of all Judaism.
And here comes Jesus – the country-boy,
the itinerant preacher,
a man on a mission –
and a small rag tag band of his followers,
all simple county-folk,
all probably approaching the big city for the first time in their lives.
No doubt there was excitement in the air –
and a lot of fear and apprehension.
They all had heard stories about the city.
How you had to watch yourself at every turn.
They did things differently in the city.
They knew not about city ways, city customs, about city life.
His closest followers tried to talk Jesus out of going:
We've been fairly successful getting the word out around the country-side.
There is still much to be done among our kind of people.
Why rock the boat?
Why move into Jerusalem now?
Why not stay where we are a little longer?
But, Jesus was on a mission.
It was like he was obsessed –
he was drawn to the city –
he had to go.
In spite of the warnings, Jesus approached the city.
Today, we come here and we remember the parade.
It is right for us take time each year to remember, and to be reminded of, the parade.
One preacher asserts that it is the longest running parade in history!
Our parade is older, and far more meaningful, than the Mummer’s parade.
Our parade is older, and far more meaningful than Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade.
Our parade is older, and far more meaningful than the St. Patrick’s Day parade, the Columbus Day parade, and any “other-Day” parade you can think of.
Our parade could be the original “ticker-tape” parade –
the original million man march –
the original demonstration march.
Parades seem to have a way of stirring up emotions and releasing us from inhibitions, don’t they?
(I believe that is one of the main motivating factors for those who participate in the Mummers Day Parade each year.)
It's what we see in Marti Gras parades.
And it's what we see happening in our scripture reading today.
Contrary to some of the movies you have seen,
not every one in Jerusalem participated in the parade that day.
To be sure, most people didn't know anything was going on – or hadn't a clue what it was about if they did see it happening.
It would have been not unlike a demonstration on Broad Street that ties up traffic during rush hour some times.
Unless you were there, and encountered the crowds, you wouldn't even have known what had happened.
And even if you were there, chances are you wouldn't have had a clue as what they were protesting, or celebrating.
But, the parade into Jerusalem turned into one of the most significant events in the lives of the first century Christians.
This parade was extremely significant to the Gospel writers and the early church.
It is one of very few events all four gospels describe.
In fact, I can think of no other event in the life of Jesus that occurs in all four gospels –
all four gospels speak of Jesus entering into Jerusalem riding on the back of a donkey
and being ushered through the streets by a parade of folks dancing and singing and carrying on.
It was an important event.
It was a significant event.
It was a meaningful event.
It was an event worth remembering for those early Christians.
I believe that it is an event worth remembering for us, as well.
I think it is important for us to remember Palm Sunday for three reasons:
As they did in Jerusalem that day, it is right and important for us to recognize the Christ that comes in to our busy lives, (even – and maybe especially – when we are not expecting it);
and
As they did in Jerusalem that day, it is right and important for us to take a public stand and give public witness to our faith;
and
As they did in Jerusalem that day, it is right and important for us to party – to celebrate the presence of Christ.
It was Palm Sunday, and the mother’s 3-year old son had to stay home from church because of strep throat. When the rest of the family came back from church carrying the palm branches, the little boy asked what they were for.
His mother explained, “Well, People held them over their heads and waved as Jesus walked by.”
The boy fumed:
“Wouldn’t you know it. The one Sunday I don’t go, and Jesus shows up.”
The city was crowded on that day.
It was the high holy festival of Passover.
In those days there were no Synagogues in the towns around Galilee – so everyone had to go to the Temple in Jerusalem to for proper observance of the holy day.
Jerusalem was the largest city for hundreds of miles – it was a cosmopolitan place populated by people from all corners of the world –
from all walks of life –
and filled to overflowing with tourists –
visitors – pilgrims –
there for the festival.
The narrow streets were crowded with the hustle and bustle of people going from here to there and back again.
And, every once in a while, someone important would come through.
Horses and chariots were used to make a hole in the crowd and move VIPs through the throngs. Oftentimes the VIPs would have entourages moving through the crowds with them and people would have to stand back and make a way for them go through.
So, there were many mini-parades like this through the streets of the city every day of the year – and even more so this day.
And, so the Gospel writers tell us that Jesus entered the city that day with his entourage –
in many ways mocking the VIP parades.
Now, when I think about this story, I think if I were writing the script it would be somewhat different.
I would have Jesus coming in riding on a blazing white stallion, (you know?), kicking up a cloud of dust as He rode along.
The people he passed would be in awe of such a beautiful animal –
but they would be even more awestruck by the man who was riding it.
As Jesus passed by, you could hear the people say,
"Who was that masked man?"
You see, there were bad guys on the loose and Jesus had a job to do.
As he rode into Jerusalem he would quickly size up the situation and form a plan to capture the ring leader of the trouble makers:
Diablo, the Evil One.
There would be a short fight, (like at the OK Corral) but the outcome would never be in doubt.
Jesus easily defeats Diablo.
He handcuffs the devil and throws him in jail.
As a large crowd of people gathers to see what the commotion was all about, Jesus mounts his horse and pulls on the reins.
His pure white stallion stands on its hind legs, neighing loudly, and pawing the air with its
front legs.
When it stands as tall as it could stand, Jesus leans forward in the saddle.
Holding the reins with one hand while lifting his white hat in the air with the other,
he shouts with a loud voice, "Hi Ho Silver, the Lone Savior."
As Jesus road off into the sunset, the music begins to play softly and gets louder and louder.
(The William Tell Overture).
{Adapted from "Not the Lone Ranger, But the Lone Savior," by Roger Griffith}
Well, you know, it really must have seemed rather comic-like to some, when the long-awaited Messiah entered the city –
even though it was all happening according to what the Hebrew Scriptures had said –
the Messiah would come lowly and humble, on the back of a donkey.
While the image should have brought people's minds to the teachings, which one would expect them to recall,
just like us –
in the midst of things happening around us –
they probably did not make the connection,
at least not immediately.
The disciples of Jesus seem to be somewhat confused in the whole thing themselves.
It was, however, a well thought out, pre-planned event, at least on the part of Jesus.
It was in no way a haphazard plan, was it?
It was meant to be an exact representation, which would convey a precise message to all who would see it – hear about it.
We are reminded, nevertheless, that it really did not make all that much sense,
nor was it understood, until after Easter!
While the hosannas and hoopla that accompanied Jesus as he made his way into Jerusalem on the spindly donkey colt may have seemed spontaneous, today’s text from Matthew suggests that he knew exactly what he was doing,
and his entourage even knew exactly what was expected of them.
* Jesus set the stage by calling for the scripturally prescribed animal.
* The disciples acted with complete and immediate obedience – a sure sign that they knew something was up.
* And, apparently, at least some in the City that day seeing Jesus approach, already accompanied by his own disciples and by those he had previously healed and taught, knew what they were seeing.
* Observant Jews, pious travelers on their way into Jerusalem for Passover, had also heard stories of this man Jesus.
Now, as he appeared mounted on the donkey colt, some of the people brought their long-established traditions, their long-held hopes, to life.
They joyfully joined in the moment,
celebrating the symbolic arrival of a messianic figure,
a prophet as foretold,
with the cries and obeisance deserved by such a dignitary.
They recognized and celebrated the presence of Christ in their midst –
even as they had pressing business at hand to attend to.
As we remember and attempt to recreate the moment Jesus processed into Jerusalem,
we reveal a vital truth about ourselves to our friends and neighbors.
This truth is, we are Christians.
Our faith has feet.
This parade is part of a vital heritage,
a history of sacrifice and service,
of triumph and love.
It is up to each new generation of believers to keep the story of this moment alive so that Jesus himself lives on in the church.
So, today, we celebrate and remember.
But where does it go from there?
Does our marching have a destination?
If all we do at the conclusion of Palm Sunday is hunker down and hide our identity, then like those folks that welcomed him with shouts in Jerusalem, we too are abandoning Jesus the moment he gets off the donkey.
How can we justify going back to life as usual when we have just shouted in the arrival of our king,
our messiah, our Savior?
How can we become true participants in the longest running parade in history — the Jesus parade?
It seems to me that the essence of a parade is a party atmosphere and party spirit.
And the faith question for each of us today is:
Can your spirit party even when everything around you is falling down and coming apart?
Can you trust and obey Jesus enough to party through the jeers as well as the cheers?
Can you wave palm branches and sing hosannas in good times – and in bad times,
in the midst of sorrows as well as celebrations,
on Good Friday as well as No-Name Saturday and Easter morning.
Today, we need to remember there really should be one membership requirement for all those who would join the Jesus parade:
Do you promise to party and celebrate the God who became one of us in good times and bad, for better and for worse?
Any church that parades around its block or its neighborhood singing, waving tree parts, and carrying on should also require all its congregation, as part of their membership vows, to sign a party agreement form: you get kicked out if you can’t/won’t party.
What is making us a hardened-heart, stiff-necked people?
What is making us closed-eared, stone-faced, frostbitten?
What is sapping our joy?
What is shutting down our parade?
What is sending us scuttling home to hide?
I think the message for us is that we need to keep the party going
and to keep the parade moving – in good times and bad.
It’s a matter of faith.
It’s a matter of faith affirmation.
It’s a matter of affirming in the face of the whole world around us that Christ is head of our life – come what may, no matter what.
You can’t join the Jesus parade and not celebrate.
When you join the Jesus parade, you party.
You wave your hands and dance for joy –
not just when life is going your way –
but even when that Perfect Storm called Good Friday hits with all its might.
Palm Sunday reminds us to party on people –
in good times and in bad.
Christ is here.
Celebrate!
Hozanna!
Amen!
This sermon was delivered to the congregation at The Connecting Place: Christ Presbyterian Church in Drexel Hill, Pennsylvania, USA, March 28, 2010
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