Palm Sunday’s Parade

Rev. Richard A. Bolland

Matthew 21:8-10

(April 13, 2003 Sermon Transcript)

        This is the text. I think it does not come as a surprise to any of us that everybody seems to like a parade. We in small-town America have a special joy when we have those parades with which we celebrate special days like the Fourth of July. Everybody who wants to can be in the parade. Common everyday folk like you and I either dress us, or not, and just get out in the parade and walk, because it’s just simply fun to be in one.

        We think of parades for very special days, grand parades that take grandiose preparations such as the Rose Parade in Southern California on New Year’s Day. And we think of all the preparation that goes into it. But believe me, the parade that is described in this text had been in preparation far longer than any Rose Parade ever dreamed of, or ever wants to. For the preparation for this parade began thousands and thousands and thousands and thousands of years ago. And it began with a promise.

        We need to remember the circumstance of the promise. You know it of course by heart, but so that we say it right, we’ll say it again. That there, in the garden of Eden, mankind had been created and placed, and there he experienced the perfection of paradise with God. But it wasn’t enough. And so choosing to want even more than what God had graciously provided, our first parents, and with them all of us, chose to worship something other than God, in desiring to become like God themselves, knowing good and evil.

        And the fall, having occurred, there was absolutely no reason at that time for any kind of celebratory parade. Indeed, there was only reason for doom and death, for that was all that was the lot of humanity.

        That parade that we just read about on Palm Sunday, was necessitated by our sin. It was necessitated by humanity’s sin, yours and mine, quite personally and quite individually as well as corporally. Having destroyed the relationship with God in the fall of our parents, all the human race was cast into darkness, and had no reason, nor any way to extricate themselves from its unintended consequences.

        And so, through the centuries, God reminded us of His promise. And that promise was that the seed of the woman would come, to finally overcome the evil one, to crush the head of the serpent, and to restore the relationship that had existed between people and God when He first made us.

        And so, we hear the promise. Reminders of the parade which is to come. In particular, remember the prophet Zechariah, who said, Rejoice greatly, O Daughter of Zion! Shout, Daughter of Jerusalem! See, your king comes to you, righteous and having salvation, gentle and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey. I will take away the chariots from Ephraim and the war-horses from Jerusalem, and the battle bow will be broken. He will proclaim peace to the nations. His rule will extend from sea to sea and from the River to the ends of the earth. (Zec. 9:9-10)

        And the people of Zechariah’s time must have been a bit puzzled. Having returned from seventy years of captivity and slavery in Babylon, think of where they had come. They returned to the promised land, all right, but the temple had been torn down, the land had grown into fallow ground, and needed much care and nurture to restore and to tend.

        And yet these words of joy come. See, your king comes to you, righteous and having salvation, gentle and riding on a donkey.. Now, donkeys are not the usual conveyances for royalty. Beautiful, white steeds are more appropriate. Chariots! Well, yes, of course. So the people to whom Zechariah spoke must have scratched their heads for a bit and said, "What do you mean? Humble, gentle, riding on a donkey?"

        And yet the promise had been given, and reminders had been given quite often.

        Five hundred more years passed, and finally the promised parade occurred. Finally we see Jesus Christ, coming in from Bethany south of Jerusalem, heading for the temple, and so entering probably at the Beautiful Gate, still there this day, riding up the steps into the city and thence into the temple.

        And the people began to gather and cheer. Word had preceded Him as to events in Bethany, where He had raised Lazarus from the dead, for many people had preceded Him into the city and spread the word. Who was this they were cheering? They seemed to know well enough. The Son of David. Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord. Well of course, He wasn’t exactly a stranger to them. All of Jerusalem knew, as did all of Judea, as indeed did all of Israel, that this was the one who gave sight to the blind. This was the one who opened the ears of the deaf. This was the one who touched lepers, and who cleansed them of that terrible disease. This is the one who raised the dead! And this is the one who preached the good news to the poor.

        Of course they had to shout! Of course they had to have a parade! Of course they had to say, "Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!"

        And it was for fear of these enthusiastic crowds that His trial is held in the dead of night, which was, by the way, against Jewish law.

        They knew who He was all right, at least many of them did, and they were right to cheer. And right to praise. But then suddenly, the parade seemed over. Not that things had come to a screeching halt. Indeed, it seemed to limp along as things went by. It began victoriously enough, as Jesus enters the temple, overturns the moneychanger’s tables yet again, preaches the good news to the people in the temple and the law to those who deserved to hear it.

        Then the parade continued. And the parade went to an upper room. And there a new covenant was established. A covenant in the blood of Christ. And before too long, we shall parade up to this communion rail, and we shall receive there the very purchase price paid for our sins, the very body and blood of Christ in, with, and under the bread of wine of this sacred meal. And we too shall participate in that covenant which He has given us.

        But the parade started to get smaller and smaller. And pretty soon even the disciples left the parade. And then even the twelve apostles ran off. One even denied Him. And then, finally, John and a few women were all that were left. And they stopped, too. They stopped at the foot of the cross, because that was one place our Lord had to go alone. So alone He goes to the cross. And alone there He faces what must be faced, if the redemption of the world is to be had. For it is Christ alone who goes to hell’s torment. It is Christ alone who is damned by the Father to undergo the punishment we had coming to us, because of our sins, not His. He had none. And the Father turns His back on the Son. How could it be otherwise that the sun itself would be blotted out?

        But then the parade continued. It was a slow and somber parade, as we read. Joseph of Arimathea, taking down the cross, bearing His cold, dead body to stone cold tomb, and hastily sealing it up, and leaving. For we’re told that after the resurrection, and Matthew records it, some of the graves were opened, and suddenly people who had been dead walked into the Holy City. I can only imagine the stir that must have caused! We read it in Matthew 27 (v53 ). It says, They came out of the tombs, and after Jesus' resurrection they went into the holy city and appeared to many people.

        And you can imagine what the newspapers said the next day, if they said anything at all (if there was a newspaper..)

        And then the parade kept going. Indeed the parade kept going as Caiaphas paraded over to the Holy of Holies and found there the curtain of the temple, that huge curtain, torn from top to bottom. And he must have stood there scratching his head, wondering, "What did this mean?"

        And then there was the parade of the Roman guards. They paraded over to Caiaphas to look for some cover. Some protection from the governor, because they had failed in their security mission.

        But let me tell you, the parade still continues to this day. For the one who dies and rises to life, dies and rises for you, and for me. He came to remove the unremovable sin that had stained our lives, and we could not scrub the stain off. But His death makes payment for our sin. His suffering cleanses us. And to this day, Christians still parade to the baptismal font, and there, through the washing of the water connected with the word, the stain is removed. And we are called children of God, redeemed by the blood of Jesus Christ.

        And we parade to the communion rail, to receive His grace and His forgiveness yet again.

        But let me assure you, this is a parade that doesn’t end. Listen to the words of Revelation (7:9). After this I looked and there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and in front of the Lamb. They were wearing white robes and were holding palm branches in their hands. And they cried out in a loud voice: "Salvation belongs to our God, who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb."

        Might as well have been, "Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!"

        There’s something quite different about this part of the parade. First of all, it never ends. Secondly, we will be there. It will be our hands holding those palm branches, and our voices shouting with all the others that salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne and to the Lamb. In Jesus’ name, we can only pray come quickly, Amen.