As spring fully awakens around us, many of us feel caught in a season of contrasts. The landscape transforms before our eyes – daffodils have pushed through soil once frozen, trees exchange winter bareness for delicate buds, and warmer breezes replace winter’s chill. Yet while nature embraces renewal, many of us might still carry burdens from tax season stress, end-of-school-year demands, or lingering winter weariness.
Consider moments when you’ve experienced excitement and uncertainty at the same time – perhaps watching your child begin kindergarten, starting a new job, or moving to a different home. You celebrate what’s ahead while feeling the weight of what’s changing. This mixture of emotions mirrors what happened when Jesus entered Jerusalem on that first Palm Sunday.
The crowds erupted with joy, waving palm branches and shouting “Hosanna!” Yet Jesus himself wept as he approached the city, seeing beneath their celebration to what they couldn’t yet understand. Their expectations of what a king should be clashed dramatically with the reality of who Jesus truly was.
Today, as we mark both Palm Sunday and our church’s 151st birthday, we explore what happens when God arrives in ways we don’t expect, challenging our assumptions but ultimately showing us the true way home. Like those first witnesses in Jerusalem, we’re learning to recognize God’s presence even when it doesn’t match what we anticipated.
Throughout our Lenten journey, we’ve followed Jesus on “The Way Home” as he encounters people longing for belonging. We began with his resolute decision to travel toward Jerusalem, setting out with courage and commitment. We’ve witnessed him crossing boundaries through the Good Samaritan story, facing opposition as he laments over Jerusalem, celebrating restoration in the parables of things lost and found, challenging divisions between rich and poor, and transforming outsiders like Bartimaeus and Zacchaeus.
Today, all these threads converge as Jesus finally enters Jerusalem. This triumphant yet tearful arrival brings our series’ themes to a climax. The same Jesus who welcomed strangers, healed the broken, and challenged comfortable assumptions now approaches the city with both celebration and sorrow. His entry reveals the ultimate way home – a path that will lead through unexpected triumph, heartbreaking sacrifice, and ultimately, resurrection. As palms wave and cloaks carpet the road, we witness a king unlike any the world had seen.
Do you remember February 2024 when nearly a million fans of Kansas City’s football team lined the streets for their Super Bowl victory parade? Now, this is a moment we might prefer to focus on rather than the disappointment of their 2025 loss. Despite frigid temperatures, people celebrated with unbridled joy as their champions rode by. Children sat on parents’ shoulders for a better view. Strangers high-fived one another. The city pulsed with a single heartbeat of celebration.
Then, in an instant, everything changed. Gunshots pierced the festivities. What had been jubilation became terror; celebration turned to mourning. In the chaos that followed, an Olathe man named Denton Loudermill was wrongfully handcuffed by police. Though quickly released, images of his detainment spread across social media. Several lawmakers, without verifying facts, publicly accused him of involvement in the shooting. Though completely innocent, Loudermill faced death threats, harassment, and a permanently damaged reputation. Despite filing lawsuits to clear his name, he died earlier this week with these false accusations still unresolved.
This tragic story parallels what happened during Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem. As crowds shouted “Hosanna!” and waved palm branches, Jesus himself wept. He saw beyond their momentary enthusiasm to the rejection and suffering that lay ahead. He recognized what they couldn’t yet see—how quickly celebration would turn to condemnation, how easily people rush to judgment, and how devastating misunderstanding can be.
Both stories remind us how quickly circumstances can shift, how joy and sorrow often stand side by side, and how authentic judgment requires seeing beyond surface appearances. Jesus entered Jerusalem fully aware that the cheers would soon turn to jeers, yet he rode on anyway—his eyes fixed on a deeper purpose that transcended the moment’s emotion and the crowd’s misinterpretation of who he truly was.
You remember that wen Luke wrote his account around 80 to 85 AD, the Jerusalem Temple had already been destroyed by Roman forces. His readers lived under Roman occupation, where military parades were common displays of imperial power. Roman generals rode war horses, displaying conquered enemies and stolen treasures. The people of Jerusalem understood this language of procession – they knew what power looked like.
Jesus has been traveling toward Jerusalem since chapter 9, and now finally arrives. Everything that follows – his teaching in the temple, his arrest, trial, crucifixion, and resurrection – stems from this moment of entry.
Luke crafts this scene with deliberate symbolism. Jesus chooses not a warhorse but a young donkey – fulfilling ancient prophecies about a humble king bringing peace. The disciples spread cloaks on the road, a gesture once used to honor kings in Israel’s history.
But Luke includes something the other Gospel writers don’t emphasize: Jesus weeps over the city. Even amid celebration, he grieves that they don’t recognize “the things that lead to peace.” This foreshadows both Jerusalem’s future destruction and Jesus’ upcoming rejection.
The phrase “the stones would shout” connects to Hebrew prophetic traditions where creation itself testifies to God’s work when humans fail to recognize it. Meanwhile, religious leaders’ opposition shows the growing conflict that will culminate at the cross.
Other Bible passages help illuminate this scene. Zechariah 9:9 had predicted a king coming on a donkey. Psalm 118 praised God’s deliverance. Isaiah often spoke of God’s people being blind to divine activity – exactly what Jesus laments here.
Ultimately, this passage reveals a profound truth: God’s arrival often challenges our expectations. The crowds wanted a conquering king, but Jesus came as a suffering servant who wept for those who couldn’t recognize him. His tears reveal God’s heart – grieving when we miss the moment of God’s presence among us.
This powerful scene of Jesus entering Jerusalem illuminates core aspects of our Wesleyan theology. The contrast between the crowd’s expectations and Jesus’ true purpose reflects John Wesley’s understanding of prevenient grace – God is always working in our lives, even when we don’t fully recognize it. Jesus weeping over Jerusalem demonstrates God’s desire for relationship with all people, what Wesley called God’s universal love.
Jesus’ deliberate choice of a donkey speaks to the Methodist emphasis on humility in leadership. His tears for Jerusalem reflect our tradition’s belief that personal holiness naturally extends to social concern – we cannot love God without loving our neighbor.
Most significantly, this passage reveals a God who doesn’t force understanding but continues offering grace even when rejected. The crowd missed what Jesus was offering that day, yet he proceeded toward the cross anyway. This sacrificial love forms the core of a Wesleyan understanding of salvation, which is not through our perfect understanding, but through Christ’s perfect love.
This Palm Sunday story speaks directly into our lives today, offering wisdom for navigating some of our most common human experiences.
First, Jesus’ entry reveals how we often misunderstand what’s happening in the moment. The crowd saw a triumphant king; Jesus knew he was riding toward sacrifice. Consider the graduate who lands their dream job only to discover it’s nothing like they imagined. Or the couple celebrating their wedding, unaware of the challenges their marriage will face. Perhaps you’ve experienced a promotion that brought more stress than satisfaction, or a move to a new community that felt lonely rather than liberating. Like those waving palm branches, we frequently celebrate or fear situations without seeing their true significance. Jesus wept because the crowd missed what truly mattered—and we often do the same, focusing on surface appearances rather than deeper realities.
Second, this passage illuminates our tendency to impose expectations on God. The people wanted Jesus to be the kind of king who would overthrow Rome through military might. Instead, he came offering a different kind of liberation. How often do we approach God with our own predetermined expectations? Perhaps you’ve prayed for a specific outcome to a health crisis, only to find healing coming through an unexpected path. Maybe you’ve sought God’s guidance for a career decision, but struggled when the answer didn’t match your preferences. In board meetings or family discussions, we might resist new directions that challenge our vision of how things “should” be. Jesus riding on a donkey reminds us that God often works in ways that defy our expectations.
Finally, Jesus’ tears reveal divine compassion in the face of human blindness. While others celebrated, he saw the suffering ahead and wept with love. This offers profound comfort when we face situations where others don’t understand our pain. Whether you’re grieving a loss that others have forgotten, managing an invisible illness, parenting a child with special needs, or carrying workplace stress that follows you home—Jesus sees beyond appearances to what others miss. His tears for Jerusalem remind us that even when the world misunderstands us, God sees our true situation with compassion.
The good news is that God works most powerfully in the places where our expectations fall apart. When Jesus entered Jerusalem that day, he knew exactly what he was doing—deliberately choosing a path that would lead through rejection and death to resurrection and new life. This wasn’t a miscalculation or tragic mistake; it was God’s love determined to reach us.
Even as the crowd missed the significance of what was happening, Jesus remained faithful to his mission. Their misunderstanding didn’t derail God’s purpose. This reveals something profound about God’s character—a persistent love that continues reaching toward us even when we completely misinterpret what God is doing. The tears Jesus shed weren’t just expressions of grief but demonstrations of compassion that continues even when rejected.
This moment in Jerusalem wasn’t isolated—it connects directly to God’s consistent pattern throughout scripture. From creation through covenant, from exodus to exile, from prophets to Pentecost, God keeps finding ways to turn human misunderstanding into opportunities for deeper relationship. Even when we wave palm branches for the wrong reasons, God transforms our limited welcome into a pathway for unlimited grace.
The cross that awaited Jesus beyond this procession stands as the ultimate evidence that God’s love persists even when completely rejected. What looked like failure became the source of our salvation. The crowd’s disappointed expectations gave way to a far greater reality than they could have imagined—not just political freedom but eternal relationship with God.
This means that our moments of confusion, disappointment, or shattered expectations aren’t the end of the story. The same God who rode into Jerusalem knowing what lay ahead walks with us through our misunderstandings, constantly working to open our eyes to deeper realities. Our limited vision never limits God’s redemptive power.
This transforming love calls us not just to believe in what God has done, but to participate in what God is doing. You see, God’s love persists even when we misunderstand, inviting us to participate in all the places God is at work in our world today. Here are a few practical ways to respond:
First, identify one expectation you have of God that might be limiting your spiritual growth. Take time tomorrow morning to journal or pray about releasing that expectation, asking instead for openness to how God might actually be working.
Second, look for moments when people around you feel misunderstood. Whether it’s a coworker whose ideas get dismissed, a family member whose feelings are overlooked, or a stranger being judged unfairly, respond with the same compassionate understanding Jesus showed Jerusalem.
Third, examine where you focus on surface appearances rather than deeper realities. This week, when forming opinions about situations at work, church, or in the news, pause and ask, “What might I be missing here? What would Jesus see?”
Finally, join our Maundy Thursday and Good Friday services as we continue walking Jesus’ path to the cross. Experience firsthand how apparent defeat becomes the doorway to resurrection. These small steps can help us see with new eyes, recognizing God’s work even when it doesn’t match our expectations.
We too experience sudden shifts between celebration and sorrow, understanding and confusion. Jesus entered Jerusalem fully aware that the cheers would soon turn to jeers, yet he rode on anyway. As we continue our journey through Holy Week, we recognize that God’s way home often looks nothing like we expect—a king on a donkey, victory through sacrifice, redemption through rejection. Our church’s 151-year history reminds us that God’s purposes unfold across generations, often in ways we cannot fully see in the moment. The King who arrives isn’t just one who passed through Jerusalem long ago, but one who continues to enter the Jerusalem of our hearts today, weeping over our blindness while loving us completely.
Will you pray with me?
God, open our eyes to recognize you even when you arrive in unexpected ways. Give us courage to follow when the path leads where we didn’t plan. Help us trust your greater purpose, especially when we cannot yet see it. Amen.
In crafting today’s sermon, I employed AI assistants like Claude and Apple Intelligence, yet the ultimate responsibility for its content rests with me. These tools offered valuable perspectives, but the most influential sermon preparation hinges on biblical study, theological insight, personal reflection, and divine guidance. I see AI as a supportive aid to enrich the sermon process while ensuring my own voice in proclaiming the Word of God.
Rev. Andrew Conard 