A Salvation Army Parade
Sermon
Sermons On The Gospel Readings
Series II, Cycle A
Object:
Different churches celebrate Palm Sunday in different ways. At one church in Chicago, there is a tradition for worshipers to gather outside the church. Palm branches are distributed, and when the time comes, another group of worshipers emerge from the front doors playing instruments and together they march around the block, singing the songs of Palm Sunday. One year as the procession made its way around the block of the church building, a young man living in an apartment across the street, threw open the window and in his pajamas shouted, "What's all this noise? You sound like the Salvation Army." To which the pastor responded in a loud voice, "Son, we are the salvation army. Come down and join us!"
What better way to sum up the events of that first Palm Sunday than to call it a Salvation Army parade. A Salvation Army parade with Jesus as the grand marshall, and yet, his purpose in coming was not be the city's honoree. He knew he had a different calling. In the gospel account of the events, one cannot avoid thinking of Saint Paul's description of Jesus in Philippians. Paul writes of Jesus, "... who being in the very nature of God, did not consider equality with God a thing to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness."
Even though the people along the parade route hailed Jesus as king, he did not consider himself one. Most Americans are unfamiliar with royalty. We only watch them from afar, fascinated by the pageantry which surround them. For even though we are skeptical of that form of government, we cannot help but be stirred by the majestic strains of "Pomp And Circumstance."
There is something overwhelming about power. There's something attractive about the majestic aura that surrounds a king. In fact, whether we agree with their politics or not, there is something awesome about being a president or prime minister or better yet, a king or a queen.
But not so with Jesus. For he knew the reason for his coming. Whereas royalty come determined to rule, Jesus came determined to serve. Whereas most monarchs spend time building their ego with the trappings of office, Jesus came in humility. Remember, this king chose his vehicle of transportation. Whereas royalty come on the back of a mighty stallion or in the luxury of a private jet, the Bible tells us this king came on the back of a donkey colt. Not a horse. A horse stands for war. Now, that may have been what the people wanted. A king to set them free, a leader to help them throw off the yoke of Rome. But this king came on a donkey colt, a symbol of meekness, peace, and humility. While most kings set themselves up to rule, Jesus came facing a cross.
Today is Palm Sunday and that same Salvation Army parade makes its way to us. The king is coming and we must respond. The parade approaches and we must decide. For the choice is ours to make. If we want to be bystanders -- parade watchers -- we can do that. If we want to be flag-waving Christians who go home after the parade, we can do that. Throw your offering in the offering plate, feel good about yourself, be at ease, and let the world move on. But today is Palm Sunday and the Salvation Army parade comes by. And that parade calls us to decide. We can be bystanders or we can be followers. We can watch from the sidelines or we can step out and follow.
For the king is coming, the parade approaches. That's one thing about this parade. No one can be neutral. We must decide. For the king has come and he brings us a choice. We can stand and wave, join the crowds that cheered him on that day, and watch him pass by. Or we can follow him wholly and stand with him at the cross. Remember: it's easy to shout but it's harder to serve.
Perhaps you've seen the old bumper sticker: "Honk if you love Jesus." Well, I saw a better one recently. It said, "Tithe if you love Jesus. Any fool can honk." Everybody loves a parade. Everybody loves to cheer. But Palm Sunday reminds us that Jesus came with a choice. The Salvation Army parade marches past and we must choose -- to stand on the sideline and cheer as he passes by or join the small crowd of followers who marched with Jesus.
The great American humorist, Will Rogers, is said to have said, "Everybody wants to go to Rome to see where Saint Peter is buried, but nobody wants to live like him." The Palm Sunday Salvation Army parade marched Jesus' choice before us, a choice that required our dedicated devotion.
For if we choose to follow, we decide to give him our devotion. That's what it takes to be a Christian in today's world. It was that way in the beginning and it is the same today: twelve disciples with Jesus. And when he asked them to go into the village and find the donkey colt, they went -- not as a bunch of tag-a-longs, but as eager followers -- not as sometimes servers but as his constant companions. And even though they would sleep when they were told to stay awake, deny him when he needed their loyalty, flee when they were in danger, and even doubt his rising when they were told, they were still his faithful followers, those who had dedicated their lives to him. When Jesus marches past us, he doesn't look for bystanders. He looks for followers.
That's what Palm Sunday requires of us. That's what this Salvation Army parade Grand Marshall desires. If we choose to follow Jesus, we must give him our devotion. We must march to his destination. It's not easy to be a Christian in today's world. It's not easy to be a follower. Daily we are bombarded with a different message. Daily we are urged to march in a different direction. According to the world around us, life's goal is to be happy, satisfied, forever young, and beautiful. And the way to achieve that goal is all around us -- for a price. If we spend the money, heartache and heartburn need never be ours. If we buy the right product, popularity and success are assured. Daily we are told that our value and worth are easily determined -- just look at what we eat, drink, drive, or wear.
But Jesus' parade marches in a different direction. This king offers a dangerous destiny. If we choose to step off the curb and give him our devotion, we could well be headed for trouble. For following Jesus will lead us to service. It will require our love and devotion. It will demand our life and our time. Following Jesus in the Salvation Army parade may mean missing out on earthly pleasures, marching past this world's riches and rewards. For Jesus was on his way to the cross. Jesus was on his way to suffering and on his way to his Father's throne. When we follow Jesus and offer him our devotion, we march with Jesus to the Father's leading. For when we follow Jesus, we must give him our trust and our faith. Remember: it's easy to shout but harder to serve.
There is a story from the days of the Civil War about a woman who sat crying on a park bench outside the White House. Her son, upon hearing of the death of his father, had deserted his post in battle to return home and offer his mother comfort and support. However, upon arriving home, he was arrested and was now to be shot by a firing squad. The woman had come to the capitol to see President Lincoln in hopes that he might intervene on her behalf. However, to her dismay, she had been turned away at the gate. The president was too busy to see her, she was told. Unable to get past the front gates, she sat on the park bench off to the side, crying.
She sat in her tears watching people come and go. After a while, a young boy approached her and asked her why she was crying. Through her tears, she told him of her little boy, now sentenced to death. She ended by saying that all she wanted to do was to see the president, because she knew he was a fair man and her son would be pardoned.
To her great surprise, the little boy asked her to follow. As they approached the front gate, the little boy said to the soldier it was all right for them to enter. "She's with me," he said. To her amazement, they stepped aside and together they made their way into the White House past generals and cabinet officers. Finally, the little boy pushed inside the room, and running, he jumped on the president's lap. "Daddy," he said. "Here's a lady who needs to see you. She needs your help." The little boy who had stopped to talk with the woman was Todd Lincoln and indeed upon hearing the woman's story, President Abraham Lincoln issued a presidential pardon and the woman's son was spared.
Like that story from the Civil War, God's Son is passing by. At the head of the Salvation Army parade, Jesus approaches, offering to lead us into the Father's presence. Palm Sunday invites us to be followers. There is no such thing as "spectator Christianity." The grand marshal of today's parade invites us to be servants not sideline watchers. For it's easy to shout but harder to serve. But only in serving is our life blessed.
What the people who welcomed Jesus into Jerusalem that first Palm Sunday did not realize was that God was offering them the opportunity to do something more than cheer. God was inviting them to join him in doing a great thing. For Jesus was on his way to the cross to bring us new life and salvation. As Jesus rode to his death that day, as he led that parade and procession, he came freeing us from our sins.
For the ultimate destination of that first Palm Sunday parade was not praise but the cross and salvation. In his book, Lift High The Cross, Robert Morgan tells a story about a man named Dave. He was a camp counselor at a Christian camp in Arkansas. In the hills above the camp is the camp's landmark -- a large, lighted cross. One winter night, a stranger came to Dave's home to ask Dave if he would take him up the mountain to see the cross. It was an icy, snowy night and Dave tried to put the stranger off, but the man seemed desperate to see it, so Dave reluctantly agreed. As they drove the narrow winding road up the mountain, the stranger told his story.
The night before, the man had set out in his small plane to fly to Little Rock. He was in despair over his chaotic life and the thought of running away from everything or even worse, of flying his plane into the hillside and ending it all, ran through his mind. As he contemplated those two bleak alternatives, a snowstorm suddenly overtook him. He soon became disoriented and began to panic.
When he radioed for help, he couldn't tell the control tower where he was because the snow had blotted out the landmarks for miles around him. Then suddenly from out of nowhere, the man saw a glowing cross in front of him. At first he thought it was a hallucination. But when he described the cross, the traffic controller immediately knew where he was and was able to guide him to safety. "That cross saved me," the man told Dave as they reached the hilltop. "I would never have found my way without it. And now my life is different. I'll never be the same again."
That's what the cross has done throughout the ages. It brings us back to God. That was Jesus' destination; that was his goal. And he invites us to join him. He invites us to march along. Today he comes before us as humble Savior, the head of the parade. Remember: it is easier to shout than it is to serve. Serving is a great blessing. In Jesus' name. Amen.
What better way to sum up the events of that first Palm Sunday than to call it a Salvation Army parade. A Salvation Army parade with Jesus as the grand marshall, and yet, his purpose in coming was not be the city's honoree. He knew he had a different calling. In the gospel account of the events, one cannot avoid thinking of Saint Paul's description of Jesus in Philippians. Paul writes of Jesus, "... who being in the very nature of God, did not consider equality with God a thing to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness."
Even though the people along the parade route hailed Jesus as king, he did not consider himself one. Most Americans are unfamiliar with royalty. We only watch them from afar, fascinated by the pageantry which surround them. For even though we are skeptical of that form of government, we cannot help but be stirred by the majestic strains of "Pomp And Circumstance."
There is something overwhelming about power. There's something attractive about the majestic aura that surrounds a king. In fact, whether we agree with their politics or not, there is something awesome about being a president or prime minister or better yet, a king or a queen.
But not so with Jesus. For he knew the reason for his coming. Whereas royalty come determined to rule, Jesus came determined to serve. Whereas most monarchs spend time building their ego with the trappings of office, Jesus came in humility. Remember, this king chose his vehicle of transportation. Whereas royalty come on the back of a mighty stallion or in the luxury of a private jet, the Bible tells us this king came on the back of a donkey colt. Not a horse. A horse stands for war. Now, that may have been what the people wanted. A king to set them free, a leader to help them throw off the yoke of Rome. But this king came on a donkey colt, a symbol of meekness, peace, and humility. While most kings set themselves up to rule, Jesus came facing a cross.
Today is Palm Sunday and that same Salvation Army parade makes its way to us. The king is coming and we must respond. The parade approaches and we must decide. For the choice is ours to make. If we want to be bystanders -- parade watchers -- we can do that. If we want to be flag-waving Christians who go home after the parade, we can do that. Throw your offering in the offering plate, feel good about yourself, be at ease, and let the world move on. But today is Palm Sunday and the Salvation Army parade comes by. And that parade calls us to decide. We can be bystanders or we can be followers. We can watch from the sidelines or we can step out and follow.
For the king is coming, the parade approaches. That's one thing about this parade. No one can be neutral. We must decide. For the king has come and he brings us a choice. We can stand and wave, join the crowds that cheered him on that day, and watch him pass by. Or we can follow him wholly and stand with him at the cross. Remember: it's easy to shout but it's harder to serve.
Perhaps you've seen the old bumper sticker: "Honk if you love Jesus." Well, I saw a better one recently. It said, "Tithe if you love Jesus. Any fool can honk." Everybody loves a parade. Everybody loves to cheer. But Palm Sunday reminds us that Jesus came with a choice. The Salvation Army parade marches past and we must choose -- to stand on the sideline and cheer as he passes by or join the small crowd of followers who marched with Jesus.
The great American humorist, Will Rogers, is said to have said, "Everybody wants to go to Rome to see where Saint Peter is buried, but nobody wants to live like him." The Palm Sunday Salvation Army parade marched Jesus' choice before us, a choice that required our dedicated devotion.
For if we choose to follow, we decide to give him our devotion. That's what it takes to be a Christian in today's world. It was that way in the beginning and it is the same today: twelve disciples with Jesus. And when he asked them to go into the village and find the donkey colt, they went -- not as a bunch of tag-a-longs, but as eager followers -- not as sometimes servers but as his constant companions. And even though they would sleep when they were told to stay awake, deny him when he needed their loyalty, flee when they were in danger, and even doubt his rising when they were told, they were still his faithful followers, those who had dedicated their lives to him. When Jesus marches past us, he doesn't look for bystanders. He looks for followers.
That's what Palm Sunday requires of us. That's what this Salvation Army parade Grand Marshall desires. If we choose to follow Jesus, we must give him our devotion. We must march to his destination. It's not easy to be a Christian in today's world. It's not easy to be a follower. Daily we are bombarded with a different message. Daily we are urged to march in a different direction. According to the world around us, life's goal is to be happy, satisfied, forever young, and beautiful. And the way to achieve that goal is all around us -- for a price. If we spend the money, heartache and heartburn need never be ours. If we buy the right product, popularity and success are assured. Daily we are told that our value and worth are easily determined -- just look at what we eat, drink, drive, or wear.
But Jesus' parade marches in a different direction. This king offers a dangerous destiny. If we choose to step off the curb and give him our devotion, we could well be headed for trouble. For following Jesus will lead us to service. It will require our love and devotion. It will demand our life and our time. Following Jesus in the Salvation Army parade may mean missing out on earthly pleasures, marching past this world's riches and rewards. For Jesus was on his way to the cross. Jesus was on his way to suffering and on his way to his Father's throne. When we follow Jesus and offer him our devotion, we march with Jesus to the Father's leading. For when we follow Jesus, we must give him our trust and our faith. Remember: it's easy to shout but harder to serve.
There is a story from the days of the Civil War about a woman who sat crying on a park bench outside the White House. Her son, upon hearing of the death of his father, had deserted his post in battle to return home and offer his mother comfort and support. However, upon arriving home, he was arrested and was now to be shot by a firing squad. The woman had come to the capitol to see President Lincoln in hopes that he might intervene on her behalf. However, to her dismay, she had been turned away at the gate. The president was too busy to see her, she was told. Unable to get past the front gates, she sat on the park bench off to the side, crying.
She sat in her tears watching people come and go. After a while, a young boy approached her and asked her why she was crying. Through her tears, she told him of her little boy, now sentenced to death. She ended by saying that all she wanted to do was to see the president, because she knew he was a fair man and her son would be pardoned.
To her great surprise, the little boy asked her to follow. As they approached the front gate, the little boy said to the soldier it was all right for them to enter. "She's with me," he said. To her amazement, they stepped aside and together they made their way into the White House past generals and cabinet officers. Finally, the little boy pushed inside the room, and running, he jumped on the president's lap. "Daddy," he said. "Here's a lady who needs to see you. She needs your help." The little boy who had stopped to talk with the woman was Todd Lincoln and indeed upon hearing the woman's story, President Abraham Lincoln issued a presidential pardon and the woman's son was spared.
Like that story from the Civil War, God's Son is passing by. At the head of the Salvation Army parade, Jesus approaches, offering to lead us into the Father's presence. Palm Sunday invites us to be followers. There is no such thing as "spectator Christianity." The grand marshal of today's parade invites us to be servants not sideline watchers. For it's easy to shout but harder to serve. But only in serving is our life blessed.
What the people who welcomed Jesus into Jerusalem that first Palm Sunday did not realize was that God was offering them the opportunity to do something more than cheer. God was inviting them to join him in doing a great thing. For Jesus was on his way to the cross to bring us new life and salvation. As Jesus rode to his death that day, as he led that parade and procession, he came freeing us from our sins.
For the ultimate destination of that first Palm Sunday parade was not praise but the cross and salvation. In his book, Lift High The Cross, Robert Morgan tells a story about a man named Dave. He was a camp counselor at a Christian camp in Arkansas. In the hills above the camp is the camp's landmark -- a large, lighted cross. One winter night, a stranger came to Dave's home to ask Dave if he would take him up the mountain to see the cross. It was an icy, snowy night and Dave tried to put the stranger off, but the man seemed desperate to see it, so Dave reluctantly agreed. As they drove the narrow winding road up the mountain, the stranger told his story.
The night before, the man had set out in his small plane to fly to Little Rock. He was in despair over his chaotic life and the thought of running away from everything or even worse, of flying his plane into the hillside and ending it all, ran through his mind. As he contemplated those two bleak alternatives, a snowstorm suddenly overtook him. He soon became disoriented and began to panic.
When he radioed for help, he couldn't tell the control tower where he was because the snow had blotted out the landmarks for miles around him. Then suddenly from out of nowhere, the man saw a glowing cross in front of him. At first he thought it was a hallucination. But when he described the cross, the traffic controller immediately knew where he was and was able to guide him to safety. "That cross saved me," the man told Dave as they reached the hilltop. "I would never have found my way without it. And now my life is different. I'll never be the same again."
That's what the cross has done throughout the ages. It brings us back to God. That was Jesus' destination; that was his goal. And he invites us to join him. He invites us to march along. Today he comes before us as humble Savior, the head of the parade. Remember: it is easier to shout than it is to serve. Serving is a great blessing. In Jesus' name. Amen.
