Parade Tales
Matthew 21:1-11
21:1 When they had come near Jerusalem and had reached Bethphage, at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples,
21:2 saying to them, "Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her; untie them and bring them to me.
21:3 If anyone says anything to you, just say this, 'The Lord needs them.' And he will send them immediately."
21:4 This took place to fulfill what had been spoken through the prophet, saying,
21:5 "Tell the daughter of Zion, Look, your king is coming to you, humble, and mounted on a donkey, and on a colt, the foal of a donkey."
21:6 The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them;
21:7 they brought the donkey and the colt, and put their cloaks on them, and he sat on them.
21:8 A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road.
21:9 The crowds that went ahead of him and that followed were shouting, "Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest heaven!"
21:10 When he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil, asking, "Who is this?"
21:11 The crowds were saying, "This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee."
Some people just love a parade. Every community I have ever lived in has held parades for various reasons, most revolving around national holidays, such as Independence Day or Memorial Day. Each community had their own “quirky” parades, in some way, or another. In Coraopolis, a community that used to be a lot larger in the days of heavy industry, continued to hold a “big” parade on Memorial Day. It was “big” in the number of units, but made to appear even larger by letting huge gaps develop between bands, floats, and veterans groups. Warren, PA did the same thing, hosting a “huge” Independence Day parade that lasted hours, mostly by moving the parade at a snail’s pace. My observation was that these communities had a hard time letting go of their distant history of being much larger towns that held “landmark” parades. Still, people showed up in great numbers to watch. In Warren, the weirdest tradition evolved—people would put lawn chairs out on Pennsylvania Avenue to “reserve” their place, sometimes WEEKS before the parade, itself. The town council tried to pass legislation that limited how many days ahead of the parade this could be done, but people still did it. How do you ticket a lawn chair?
Sharon, PA had a most unusual holiday, marked by a truly big parade followed by a fair in Buhl Park (one of the most beautiful town parks I have ever seen). What was unusual about this annual even was that it was held on Labor Day, but it was dubbed BUHL DAY. The Buhl family (yes, related to the Pittsburgh Buhls) started these events many years ago as captains of business and industry, for the benefit of their workers AND the community in general. Buhl Park was a lovely premium that family funded for the residents of Sharon, as was the nation’s only FREE, nine-hole golf course, officially dubbed “Buhl Farm Park Golf Course,” but known by the locals as “Dum-Dum.” It was a short, but tricky course, which, thanks to funds left by the Buhls, was maintained by the greens-keepers of the neighboring country club. The Buhl Day parade really WAS a big parade, was quite professionally managed, and was fun to participate in. The United Methodist Churches of our cluster ministry prepared a huge float every year and members bedecked in T-shirts advertising the UMC passed out bottles of water along the parade route.
Growing up in Oil City, this community had its share of parades, and as a member of the high school marching band, we always participated. The big parade breakthrough happened many years later in Oil City when an enterprising, career military adjutant retired and moved “home,” becoming the director of the Chamber of Commerce. He spearheaded an annual celebration of the city’s founding as an oil town, named Oil Heritage Week. Not only was a huge parade part of that event, but the festival itself at one point grew to be the third largest festival in Pennsylvania. My exposure to the Oil Heritage parade came during my “first” career, when I was serving as director of a small cable access non-profit organization, Venango Video, Inc. We were able to provide live television coverage of the parade for those who couldn’t attend in person (or who just didn’t want to fight the crowds). Commentary was provided by personnel from the local radio station, and occasionally, by yours truly.
While this may be the longest introduction I have ever crafted for a sermon, there is method in my “madness,” so be patient for a few moments longer before we get to the Jesus Parade on Palm Sunday!
I have had the more rare privilege of observing a parade from just about every “angle” you can imagine. As I mentioned, I have marched in a few with a high school marching band, trying to keep playing a trumpet while marching in step with the rest of the band, and to avoid falling on my face in front of hundreds of people. It’s not for the faint of heart, believe me. Oh, and most parades fall on the hottest days of the year, with sun beating down, OR in the midst of a rainstorm. Either way, the last thing you want to be doing is wearing a dark blue, heavy wool uniform with a massive, fur-covered chapeau. In my television production days, I once manned a TV camera poised ABOVE a parade in a cable TV bucket truck. From this high perch, I could not only get a pleasing, “above it all” perspective for the TV viewers, but could also “look ahead” for several blocks to see what was coming next, information I could relay to the TV commentators. (They had a parade list, but many last-minute changes occurred in these small-town parades.) I also served as a commentator, from time to time, and we were seated beside the “judging stand,” where every band or marching unit offered their best performance, in an effort to win a trophy.
Years later, while I was serving as an associate pastor at St. Paul’s UMC in the early 1990s, I was given the honor being the Honorary Grand Marshall of my hometown’s Oil Heritage parade, recognizing the 20th anniversary of Venango Video, the local television access operation I had a hand in starting. Riding in an open convertible and waving to the parade crowd was a unique perspective on the parade phenomenon, indeed.
Jesus had a parade. Matthew offers his account of it in today’s scripture passage. We preachers have all given a variety of sermons around this event, often pointing out the discrepancies between the biblical accounts (one of the few events documented in all four gospels). Having made one trip to the Holy Land, I was exposed to a radically different view of the Jesus parade than what I imagined, mostly from witnessing one of our festive parades, or from remember the cartoonish pictures of it in childhood Sunday School papers. The winding, hilly stone-paved pathway down from the Mount of Olives, through the Kidron Valley, and up into the walled city of Jerusalem was not what I imagined. The “large crowds” gathered to witness Jesus’ donkey-borne journey would have been sitting on the walls surrounding the serpentine path, in the alleyways, and in the cemetery the path went through. We preachers have all read the commentaries that suggest that “Kings” rode horses on such a parade if they came as warriors, or on donkeys, if they came in peace. (The Book of Revelation picks up on this, placing Jesus on a horse, as he returns to earth to intervene in the Apocalypse.) In today’s account, he is on a donkey.
Of course, Matthew’s account also has the riddle for the preacher about whether Jesus was mounted on TWO animals. The former tax collector so wanted Jesus to fulfill what he often mistakenly thought were “prophecies,” that he became a literalist. Reading a Hebrew Bible account that this future “King” of Israel would come riding on a colt, the foal of a donkey, Matthew writes that Jesus performed a kind of Barnum and Bailey act, riding what he saw as two animals. Of course this is ridiculous—but entertaining.
Having experienced the various perspectives of parades mentioned earlier, I have to wonder what was going through Jesus’ mind during the Palm Sunday affair? I’m sure that he had witnessed many parades in his day. The casual parade viewer chooses a place (or places his lawn chair) at a desirable spot, and witnesses the parade as it passes by, one unit at a time. We all know that when the firetrucks and police cars show up, it’s over. The crowd for Jesus’ parade was obviously enthusiastic. Since throngs were screaming “Crucify Him! Crucify Him!” less than a week later, we must either conclude that this was his “home crowd” that showed up for the Palm Sunday parade—those who saw him as the political savior of the turmoil going on in Israel—OR, they were as fickle as human beings can be. The crowd mentality is easy to “turn,” so the latter could be the case. Many of the same people placing palm branches and cloaks on the road before the “King,” may have been screaming his capital sentence by week’s end.
As the “guest of honor” in that parade, Jesus would have been looking into the faces of those along the parade route. Been there, done that, and it is REALLY strange. As a Grand Marshall, waving to the crowd, I would often make eye-contact with people I knew, along the way. And while they were all smiling, waving back, and calling out my name to get my attention, some of them I remembered as being far less “adoring” when we were in school together. Some were actually bullies who gave me physical or mental grief (yes, I was a nerdy "academic" in high school—some things never change). A couple were girls I had dated back then, and as I sat beside my beloved in that convertible, I was elated that I waited and saved “the best for last” in marrying Dara! Believe me. I saw some of the teachers who had inspired me, and a few that didn’t, so much. It was amazing how many memories and stories those quick glances along the parade route invoked!
Imagine, now, what was going on through Jesus’ mind! He not only would most certainly parallel my experience as an “in parade” guest of honor, but he had the ability, divinely, to know what was ahead, and possibly even could know which of these “admirers” would be among Friday’s condemning crowd. We know he knew a betrayer was among his inner circle, and that his disciples would hide in fear. These prescient facts would have certainly “rained on his parade.” Still, even this one day of being “hailed” by the parade crowd would have meant something. Being the Honorary Grand Marshall of the Oil Heritage Parade didn’t really signal anything “great,” but personally, it DID mean something. I still think about it. Hopefully, Jesus got some joy from his “Grand Marshall” experience, if for nothing else, through his knowing that someday, an even greater “honor” was coming some day.
We know full well that Jesus was “plugged in” to God’s bigger picture. Manning a TV camera in that bucket truck, high atop the moving parade, gave me a similar “bigger picture.” I imagine that God is able to view the “parade” of my life—which I must experience one day at a time—all at once, if God chooses, kind of like my bucket truck view, or even better, as one would see a parade from a helicopter. Such a person could see beginning, ending, and everything in between. This idea has led some to believe that if God can SEE such a view, then God must “foreordain” what will happen. As Wesleyan Christians, we don’t see it this way. First of all, we have no idea if God “chooses” to look at our lives or our world this way. But even if God does, it certainly doesn’t mean God has set these events in stone. Being privileged to “look ahead,” on God’s part, doesn’t mean our free will is negated. This is what attracted me to Process Theology, a view of God’s interaction with humanity that posits God as looking both “ahead” AND “behind” each actual occasion of our lives, drawing wisdom from both, and “luring” us toward a better path. The deity of Process Theology doesn’t “pre-select” our future, but instead “lovingly lures” us, weaving our experiences into our future. Now, put this in perspective of Jesus in the Palm Sunday parade. He knew what was on the horizon, but would plead with God in the Garden of Gethsemane to “let this cup pass from me.” He knew some of his admirers—even his closest associates—would turn against him, or at the very least, bow to the lure of “the crowd,” yet still he gave himself for the redemption of all. Given my experience as Grand Marshall in a tiny, earthly parade, I hope someday to ask Jesus what HE thought, as he wound his way down the path from the Mount of Olives as the parade crowd shouted, “Hosanna! Hosanna!”
Given the events of this past week, we have to believe better days are ahead. May our observance of Palm Sunday (or Passion Sunday, if that is your focus) lead us to believe that God’s goal for humanity CONTINUES to be the full redemption and reconciliation of ALL of the people of God.
This weekend, may we all “love a parade!” And may we celebrate anew the salvation of humankind through the greater events of the week to come! Amen.