A Parade That Wasn’t What It Seemed

Palm Sunday is often softened in our retellings. Children wave branches. Congregations sing “Hosanna.” The scene can feel quaint, even sentimental. But in its original context, it was anything but.

Jesus enters Jerusalem not quietly, not privately, but in a deliberate public demonstration. He rides a donkey—a symbol loaded with meaning—while crowds gather, shouting political-religious slogans: “Hosanna!” (Save us!) and “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!”

This was not random enthusiasm. It was organized disruption.

Scholars remind us that at the same time, on the other side of the city, the Roman governor Pontius Pilate would have been entering Jerusalem as well—mounted on a war horse, flanked by soldiers, a show of imperial power designed to keep the peace through intimidation.

Two processions. Two visions of power. One rooted in domination. One rooted in solidarity.

Palm Sunday, then, is not just a prelude to Easter. It is a protest parade. A public, embodied critique of empire. A declaration that another kind of reign—a reign of justice, mercy, and collective flourishing—is not only possible, but already breaking in.

So, this is what Jesus was (quietly) about. “Two visions of power. One rooted in domination. One rooted solidarity.” I get it. Sheesh. Did the folks waving palm branches know this is what they were getting into? Did I? Did you?

In worship on Palm Sunday, we will welcome seven new members to Central. And we will wave palm branches and eat cake because this is B.I.G. We must celebrate as a congregation and take nourishment to ready ourselves for the journey together. It’s not easy to be a follower of Jesus. We need each other.

Hope to see you there or maybe you’ll be seeing us via streaming. Either way, it will be good to gather and pray and sing and celebrate. Oh—don’t forget the hugs. They’re important. Such a fitting and much needed preparation for Holy Week and Resurrection Sunday.

Love and hugs,

Rev. Liz