Usually, the parade happens after the war is won.
Throughout history, when a conquering general returned home, the scene was predictable. He would ride a white stallion, chin held high, followed by a train of spoils and prisoners of war. Confetti would fly. Crowds would cheer. It was the “Ticker-Tape Parade” of the ancient world. It signaled that the danger was past, the enemy was crushed, and it was time to party.
But on that first Palm Sunday, Jesus turned the pageantry upside down. He didn’t wait for the battle to be over. He was marching directly into the heat of it. And He wasn’t riding a warhorse. He was riding a borrowed donkey—a beast of burden for a Savior bearing the burden of the world.
To the naked eye, the Triumphal Entry is a bit of a confusing mess. You have the Son of God allowing Himself to be hailed as King, yet He is weeping over the city that is cheering for Him (Luke 19:41). You have crowds shouting “Hosanna,” which means “Save us now!” while expecting a political liberation that Jesus had no intention of bringing. They were rolling out the red carpet for a Lion, but they got a Lamb.
If we are honest, we often suffer from the same confusion as those crowds. We want the Jesus Who fixes our finances, cures our ailments immediately, and makes our life in this fallen world a smooth ride on a paved road. We want the crown without the cross.
But Jesus loves us too much to give us merely what we want. He is determined to give us what we need.
That is why this procession was not a victory lap—at least, not in the way the world counts victory. It was a funeral procession. The crowd didn’t know it, but Jesus did. He wasn’t riding to the governor’s palace to evict Pontius Pilate. He was riding to Golgotha to crush the serpent’s head (Genesis 3:15).
The prophet Zechariah saw it coming centuries before: “Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion! Shout, O daughter of Jerusalem! Behold, your King is coming to you; He is just and having salvation, Lowly and riding on a donkey.” (Zechariah 9:9 NKJV)
Notice the word lowly. Kings aren’t supposed to be lowly. But this King came to serve. He came to lower Himself into the very dust of death. The reason the triumphal entry is truly “triumphant” isn’t because of the palms or the cloaks on the road. It is triumphant because nothing could stop Jesus from marching toward His death. The Pharisees told Him to hush the disciples. The disciples didn’t understand what was happening. Jerusalem was fickle. Yet, Jesus set His face like flint toward the cross.
He marched to the grave because that is where our enemies were hiding. Sin, death, and the devil held humanity in a chokehold, and the only way to break that grip was to enter their territory and burst it open from the inside.
As we enter the climax of our Lenten journey, let us not be like the confused crowds who only wanted a king to satisfy their earthly wants. Let us look past the waving palm branches and see the shadow of the cross looming over the road.
This was a victory march, yes. But the victory wasn’t won by avoiding death. It was won by swallowing up death forever (Isaiah 25:8). So, wave your branches. Sing your loud hosannas. Know that your King rides on to die, so that you might live.
He marches to the grave, so that on Easter morning, He can walk out of it, and take us with Him.
is pastor of Immanuel Lutheran Church in Winter Haven, Florida, and a member of the CLC Board of Missions.