Luke 19:41-48 on April 13th, 2025
Above is audio of the sermon pulled from the video and amplified.
Below is transcript pulled from the video and formatted by artificial intelligence. There may be inconsistencies or errors.
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Today is Palm Sunday. It's a day of celebration and festivity. There's a parade after all. Jesus sets the scene. Coats lining the streets, palm branches waving crowds upon crowds, gather to see him enter the city. The rocks will shout if we won't. The king is coming. Jesus' actions today shape how we play our role.
Growing up, Palm Sunday was one of my favorite days. It was so cool. Church started outside. It felt novel and exciting a way to actually live out the story of Jesus' triumphal entry. There was pageantry. We had palm branches. We all paraded in toward our seats. It's one of my most vivid and cherished memories of church.
Another profound memory of Palm Sunday came about five years ago. That year I paraded down the aisle alone, carrying palm branches and a cell phone. The doors were locked and just two or three of us gathered in that big old room. We tried our best to replicate the usual plans, but when you're the only one shouting, Hosanna, it's not quite the same.
These days on Palm Sunday, we mostly just stand in our usual spots. But I get the sense that not too many of us are mourning the loss of marching around on the front lawn. Stoic Lutherans don't exactly do parades, or branch waving, or anything that draws too much attention. Plus at least you get your usual seat, right? Bless our hearts. We are not very good at the parade part of Palm Sunday. We hold the branches, but we only have heartedly waved them. The bold type in the bulletin instructs us to welcome the coming king, so we do what we are told, but it's slightly forced. Our Hosanna's are weak and a bit tepid, but still we play our role. We wave, we walk, we shout, sort of.
And as I think back on those Palm Sundays, from childhood parades, to pandemic live streams, to the subdued rituals of today, I realize how much has changed. And it makes me wonder what our role in this story is year after year. Back 2,000 years ago, I'm sure it would have been easy to get caught up in the moment. Like at any big event where your team, your all-star is about to take the field. I'd like to think that I'd be just as excited as anyone on that first Palm Sunday. But would I have been?
Even as a pastor, I try not to hit people in the face with my face. For example, on Ash Wednesday, the ashes came off my forehead pretty quickly after worship. I will often take my collar off when I'm doing normal things, like going to the grocery store or running errands. It's not that I mind people knowing that I'm a Christian. My name is literally on a sign in front of a church. But it's just removing all of those bold attention grabbers. Let's me get in and do what I need to do without distraction or intense conversations with strangers. So let's just say that I probably wouldn't have been on the front row of that parade. Palms in both hands scream in my head off. I guess I'm not the ideal Palm Sunday at 10D.
I tried to put a little extra gusto in my Hosanna this morning knowing that I was going to be talking about this. But there's more to welcoming Jesus than vigorous palm waving. My role. Your role is to welcome and to praise Jesus wherever He is wherever He goes. And maybe we need a little more childlike wonder and enthusiasm in our lives and in our worship in our ministries. But if I'm honest, our lack of excitement isn't exactly some new development. It's just that 1989 me simply didn't notice the people who were unenthusiastically waving their branches and saying Hosanna had only a slightly louder than normal voice. It's been a long, long time since we've lived up to the Palm Sunday role that the first crowds have set. And I think I know why.
It's hard to get excited knowing where this parade is going. That's the rub with today, isn't it? How do you have a parade when you know how the week ends? I wonder the palm branches and the cheering, the story quickly moves to sorrow. Jesus weeps over Jerusalem, he flips tables, the tension is mounting. And then come the plots to kill, the supper, the garden, the trial, the hill outside the city. And today on an ominous note with many reasons to tread carefully. Jesus's actions shape how we play our role today. And Jesus's actions put us in a tough spot.
And therein lies the challenge for us. This day, this week in each day of our lives, we reflect on our role in all of this. Consider how we take part in the climax of Jesus's story. And we ask, what role do we play in Jesus's story now? We have the ideal, celebration, praise, following, staying close to Jesus. And all the disciples had those ideals. They had the best of intentions. And yet they all played their roles poorly. And despite our best intentions, we don't live up to the ideal either. We trade childlike excitement for adult practicality. We don't praise as we ought, but only as we are able. We play our roles half-heartedly or even leave them unfulfilled as we follow Jesus from a distance on his way.
Jesus's actions this week shape how we play our role. We know what will ensue before this week is out. And the deafening silence of what will come has already muted our joy. Jesus's actions today reign on our parade. Jesus's actions this week cause us to question, betray, deny, and hide. Jesus's actions do not leave us feeling all warm and fuzzy. He didn't pat us on the head and tell us he loves us, not today. And yet no matter how we play our part from childlike, ideal, practical, this week it is Jesus's actions the matter. It is his actions that show us that he loves us.
And while I have put a lot of emphasis on us and our roles in the drama that will unfold this week, don't forget that God has a role too. And God's role is no brief appearance, no passing part in the story. God's love unfolds in every moment, shaping us with promise, filling us with hope, and showing us the wonders of what love can do. Jesus goes forward, not because we played our parts so well, but because his role is to save us with mercy and love. Even when our voices tremble, the rocks will shout. Even when our Hosenna's falter creation sings the love of God. And even when we are too practical in our following, Jesus is not. Because that is how he saves the world. Amen.