Palm Sunday Is For Children

Text: John 12:12-16
Theme: “Palm Sunday is For Children”
Palm Sunday
April 1, 2012
First Presbyterian Church
Denton, Texas
Rev. Paul R. Dunklau

IN THE NAME OF JESUS

12 The next day the great crowd that had come for the festival heard that Jesus was on his way to Jerusalem. 13 They took palm branches and went out to meet him, shouting,
“Hosanna![d]”
“Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”[e]
“Blessed is the king of Israel!”
14 Jesus found a young donkey and sat on it, as it is written:
15 “Do not be afraid, Daughter Zion;
see, your king is coming,
seated on a donkey’s colt.”[f]
16 At first his disciples did not understand all this. Only after Jesus was glorified did they realize that these things had been written about him and that these things had been done to him.

She was a very British girl – born in Lancashire, England in 1821. Life for her was not easy, but much the same could be said for countless children today. She was orphaned as a child. Later, two serious accidents profoundly limited her physical abilities.

But the accidents did not slow down her mind and heart. Not to be deterred, she bore up under her challenges with class and grace. She wrote devotional verses. Her name was Jeanette Threlfall, and, in one book, Sunshine and Shadow, she included a selection called “Hosanna, Loud Hosanna.”

Hosanna, loud hosanna, the little children sang;
Through pillared court and temple the joyful anthem rang;
To Jesus, who had blessed them close folded to His breast,
The children sang their praises, the simplest and the best.

Palm Sunday is for children – for children of all ages. Jesus, who entered into Jerusalem on the back of a donkey, always welcomed them. He went so far as to say that if you gave a cup of water to a child you would surely not lose your reward. He stated that if you caused one of them to sin, it would be better to have a millstone draped around your neck and you be drowned in the depths of the sea. He said, “Let the children come to me, and do not hinder them, for as to such belongs the kingdom of God.” He spoke of entering the kingdom of God like a little child. If we don’t do it that way, he said, we won’t enter it.

What is the thing about children – about children of all ages? They live only by what they are given – that is, by faith. Without food, without clothing, without shelter, without parents, without guardians, without love and guidance, they perish. Without God, so do we –the children of all ages.

The children on that first Palm Sunday were with their parents and loved ones. It was Passover time, and, besides, being a religious holy day with common rituals and activities, it had this way of drawing families together – including the kids. There was no better place to be at Passover than at the holy city of Jerusalem.
This one was different because there was an unscheduled parade. When word got around that Jesus was coming to town, that’s what ensued. I remember my childhood. When it came time for the 4-H fair, there was a parade in town. Folks would line either side of Military Avenue in Fremont, Nebraska. The Shriners would drive in circle-8 formation in their little go-carts and toss out candy. There were clowns and balloons and floats. Local VIPs rode in open-air convertibles provided by local car dealerships.

Jesus rode on a donkey. He didn’t ride on a horse. In Jesus’s day, the donkey was a symbol of peace, while the horse was a symbol of war. A king riding into town on a horse was bent on war – hence, warhorse. If a king came in on a donkey, it was for the sake of peace.

In other accounts, we are told that the crowd – including the children – laid their garments on the road as a sort of royal carpet. In John’s telling of the story, we get the bit about the palm branches which we, too, have with us today. They were used like cheerleaders and sports fans that wave tassels. But they weren’t waving them to cheer on the home team in either a pep rally, during the game, or at a victory parade paid for by Mark Cuban.

Instead, they cried out: “Hosanna!” “Hosanna” is a Hebrew term that packs a wallop. It is both an ascription of praise and a prayer. In short, “Hosanna” meant “Praise to you, O Lord; save us now.”

The children – full of life and adventure – like to be where the action is, where the fun is to be had. Some of them may have just been going along with the crowd. Everyone is cheering, so why not join in! In modern times, psychological studies have been done about crowd behavior. People do things differently, and think different things, when they are in groups as opposed to being by themselves. No wonder that psychotherapy comes in two sizes: individual or group.

The ones who were by themselves on that first Palm Sunday, I suspect, were not cheering. “Hosanna” was not their word on that day. They were the ones who saw Jesus as a threat to their far more adult, grown-up, educated, elitist, sophisticated, fundamentalist viewpoint. The raising of Lazarus was just about the last straw. Jesus was to them like bin Laden. When the information is solid and the opportunity presented itself, you act on it and take him out – based on your own national security instincts. Better for one person to die than for the whole nation to perish; you get the idea.

But Jesus was no terrorist. He loved children; He didn’t kill them – or, like Kony in Africa, prostitute them first. They were not human shields with bombs strapped on. Jesus didn’t believe, to use the phrase made infamous during the days of Hitler’s Third Reich in Germany, in Lebens unwertes Leben (lives unworthy of life). In Jesus, the demons who demonized people were sent packing. The illnesses that buffeted humanity were healed. And the dead – most recently, Lazarus – were raised. Ask the widow at Nain; her son, too, was raised. And that’s not even to speak of Jairus’s daughter. This is the Jesus – who proclaimed the kingdom of God, release for the captives, recovery of sight for the blind, and good news for the poor – that they had to be rid of. Here is a good question to ask congregations, presbyteries, synods, general assemblies, denominations, non-denominations, inter-denominations, church traditions, and even ourselves today: Are you willing to get rid of Jesus to save your religion? Is your religion more important than Jesus? Is Jesus just an item on your session’s docket? How these questions are answered will speak volumes.

So let Him have His day. Let Him have His parade now. Little does He know that we “flipped” one of His disciples – Judas Iscariot – and, in just days, Jesus will be ours for thirty shekels of silver. That’s what Jesus was worth to the religious establishment; that was the price, the bounty, on his head. They treated Jesus as if He were a threat, as if He wore a hoodie, as if He was up to no good, as if He had something to hide.

How is it that people who think they have it so right have it so wrong? I don’t know, but it does seem to happen when the tendency is toward pre-judgment and profiling. All I’d like to do this Sunday is hang with the children, to sing my “Hosanna” and to join it with yours, and, in this Holy Week, to follow Jesus where He goes, to hear – and to see again with the eyes of faith – the story unfold.

They praised Him and begged Him to save them. And on through the week; through Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, Holy Saturday, and then Easter, He did just that.
“Let the children come to me, and do not hinder them. For to such belong the kingdom of God.”

Amen.