© 2026, Dr. Tamilio

The Palm Sunday story is pretty straight forward, and most preachers say (roughly) the same thing about it every year.  Jesus rides into Jerusalem on a donkey.  It is the fulfillment of the Old Testament prophecy from Zechariah 9:9, which reads,

Rejoice greatly, Daughter Zion!

Shout, Daughter Jerusalem!

See, your king comes to you,

righteous and victorious,

lowly and riding on a donkey,

on a colt, the foal of a donkey.

The lowly part is interesting.  Whenever a king would enter a town, he would ride on a donkey if he came in peace.  If he came as a conquering warrior, he would ride a mighty horse.  Everyone was hoping that Jesus would be a conquering warrior, like his ancestor King David, in order to liberate the Jews from Roman oppression.  He came as the Prince of Peace.  This explains why throngs of people greeted him on Sunday waving palm branches (another sign of what you would do before a king, the way our fairy tales use rose petals).

Many of the same people shouting “Hosanna” that day would shout “Crucify” just five days later when the King of kings rode into town bringing a message of peace rather than one of rebellion.  This isn’t what the people wanted.  We wouldn’t either.  Be honest.  If we were oppressed by some other nation, we would want someone to lead a rebellion to help us throw off the shackles.  We wouldn’t want to hear sermons telling us to love our enemies, to pray for them, and to turn the other cheek.  We would want blood.

Today, however, I want to focus on something a little bit different: the parade itself.  Try to imagine that day.  It is the week of the Jewish Passover.  Everyone is coming to Jerusalem for the festivities: extended families, merchants, priests, you name it.  When Jesus comes through the gates, the throng of onlookers is ecstatic.  You can almost hear a father talking to his children: “There he is.  There’s the miracle man.  Everybody has been talking about him.  Look!  That’s the guy who heals people.  He healed a blind man.  He also turned a few fish and loaves of bread into a feast for thousands, not to mention he turned water into wine and even walked on the water!”  High expectations.  Joy beyond belief.  The Messiah has come.

And let’s stop there.  Let’s not go to the temple where he overturns the tables of the moneychangers.  That happens right after he gets into town.  Let’s not think about the upper room just yet, when he shares his final meal with his disciples, those who have been by his side for three years.  Let’s not go to the Garden of Gethsemane where Jesus prays to his Father to let this cup pass.  Let’s not go to the judgment hall where Pilate gives the crowd a choice between Jesus and Barabas the freedom fighter.  Let’s not go to Golgotha where he will be crucified as a common criminal.  All of that will come later this week.  Let’s wait for that.

For now, let’s remain on the streets of Jerusalem with all the other people lining the parade route.  There’s a festive spirit in the air.  Hope abounds.  Such a spirit might be at work right now.

For a long time, people have been talking about how the Church is in a state of decline.  Dr. David Greenhaw, the former President of Eden Theological Seminary in St. Louis, told me, over twenty years ago, that denominations will soon be a thing of the past.  It seems to be happening.  Denominations are growing smaller and smaller each year with churches closing or deciding to join other associations.  We also know that traditional, local, mainline churches are shrinking.  Go into any Methodist, Presbyterian, or even Congregational Church and you’ll hear the memories being voiced as a sort of lament: Remember when we had to build an extra wing onto the church to accommodate all the kids who were enrolled in our Sunday school program?  Remember when we had to have two services on Sunday, because we had so many attendees each week?  Yes, that was in the 1950s, and those days are over.

Or are they?  It is true: we cannot live in the past.  There is nothing productive about it.  We have an opportunity in the present though — an opportunity that suggests the tide is turning.

Remember what happened at Asbury University three years ago.  Writing for Time magazine at the time, Aaron Griffith reported the following:

Fervent worship and prayer that began during a Feb. 8, 2023 chapel service continued for hours afterward, then days, with word soon spreading globally through social media and national news coverage.  Asbury administrators, noting that the school and town have been overwhelmed by the rush of outside visitors, officially ended the on-campus revival gatherings last week.  But a number of other universities have reported their own enthusiastic campus awakenings, leading excited Christians to contend this is evidence of an unprecedented movement of God across the nation.[1]

 

There is a God movement happening, and it isn’t just with students.  People are starting to return to church.  We’ve seen it here: young families, older people, you name it.  The Holy Spirit is at work in the world.  People are starting to realize that the meaning that they sought in materialism and prestige is empty.  It does not provide any sort of lasting purpose.  The name of the Time magazine article I just cited is “What Asbury’s Christian Revival Says About America’s Need for Connection.”  People need that, too.

When I was a kid, my family knew every family on our street in which we lived, and many of the families on the adjoining streets.  Now, I know about five people (families) on my street, and there are a lot of houses in my neighborhood.  Furthermore, Cindy and I do not hang out with these people.  My parents would go to our neighbor’s houses — or they would come to our house — for cookouts and card parties.  That doesn’t happen anymore.  People are isolated from each other.  They work far too many hours and are exhausted when they get home.  They don’t have time for anything, let alone getting together with the Smith’s and the Jone’s.

We long for that.  And we desire meaning that has to do with something other than money.  We want to know that there is something greater, that there is a purpose that transcends our earthly plight.  We want to know that we are forgiven for the wrongs we have done and the good we have left undone — and we want to know that we are loved and saved by a power that goes far beyond the conditional love that is so prevalent in our earthly relationships.

And so, we celebrate.  We line the parade route.  We wave leafy palm branches and hail the Messiah that rides into our midst to teach a way that is countercultural.  We proclaim, Hosanna!” and worship the God who promises that he would not leave us desolate, that he would come to make all things new.

It is the Christ.  He entered Jerusalem on this day, and into our hearts as we speak.  Shout for joy, my friends.  And share the Good News.  God has come to us to share our common lot and to deliver us from the pain that this world deals to us every day.  The revival for which the world waits begins with us.  Let’s make it happen.  Amen.

[1] Aaron Griffith, “What Asbury’s Christian Revival Says About America’s Need for Connection,” Time, February 28, 2023.