Sermon Tone Analysis

A common holiday event in the streets of small towns, hub cities, and even large metropolises is a parade.

In today’s organized and controlled environment, a parade (usually a repeat of the one before), has a definite route, preregistered participants, rules about what the participants can and cannot do, as well as rules for those who gather to watch the parade at the scheduled time and place.

I recall attending a Halloween parade in Galena, IL with my wife several years ago.

The route was clearly established and temporary signs had been put up to warn people not to have their cars parked along the route or they would be towed away.

Of course, a select view ignored the warning and I have a video of one offending vehicle being loaded onto the tow truck bed.

Pause for a moment to think about parades you have seen and/or those you have been in.

PAUSE

What is the purpose of the parade?

Celebrate the holiday.

Entertain the crowds.

Show off military strength.

Promote businesses.

Promote political candidates

Do you love a parade?

Well, Harold Arlen and Ted Koehler (song writers) and Harry Richman (composer) did.

Who?

Harry Richman, known for introducing the popular Irvin Berlin tune "Puttin' On the Ritz" a couple years earlier, gushes about the thrills of a passing parade in this upbeat marching song from songwriting duo Harold Arlen and Ted Koehler.

Arlen, who went on to compose classics like the Wizard of Oz number "Over The Rainbow," spent most of the '30s writing songs for musical revues at the Cotton Club, a famous hotspot in Harlem that welcomed some of the biggest black entertainers of the era.

"I Love A Parade" debuted in Rhythmania, the first show with Duke Ellington taking over the house band.

The revue also introduced another popular Arlen/Koehler collaboration: "Between The Devil And The Deep Blue Sea."

Popular recordings followed from country singer Frank Luther, backed by Arden-Ohman Orchestra, and Harry Richman.

The song came together spontaneously as Arlen and Koehler were out for a stroll.

Koehler recalled (in Michael Feinstein's American Songbook): "Harold liked to walk.

I didn't.

However, he used to talk me into walking and I remember one day it was cold out and to pep me he started to hum an ad lib marching tune.

I guess I started to fall into step and got warmed up.

By the end of the walk, the song was written."

I love a parade,the tramping of feet,

I love every beat I hear of a drum.

I love a parade, when I hear a band

I just want to stand and cheer as they come.

That rat-a tat-tat, the blare of a horn.

That rat-a tat-tat, a bright uniform;

The sight of a drill will give me a thrill,

I thrill at the skill of everything military.

I love a parade, a handful of vets,

A line of cadets or any brigade,

For I love a parade.

In our well known reading for Palm Sunday, we have a crowd of people who loved an impromptu parade as well as some people who found it distasteful.

Today we look at the parade on Palm Sunday to explore . . .

How People Responded to Jesus’ Palm Sunday Parade

The public ministry of Jesus is about to reach its climax.

For the last three years he had been revealing himself as the promised Messiah through self declaration (sermon at Nazareth), powerful messages from God, extraordinary miracles, and the revelation of God his Father to his disciples.

During that time opposition to him by those in religious power had grown and they made it plain that they wanted to kill him.

The seat of their power was in the capital city of Jerusalem where the temples was located.

Therefore, Jesus did not often venture there.

But now the hour was at hand for his final work of suffering and dying as the Good Shepherd for the sheep that loved to wander.

And so on the Sunday before the Passover, Jesus set his face like flint and headed for Jerusalem.

He had told his disciples:

But how would he enter Jerusalem.

As a wanted man, would he slip in under the cover of darkness.

Would he mingle with the crowds of pilgrims streaming into the gates for the feast.

Would he disguise himself?

He could enter in only one way for it has been prophesied long ago.

Zechariah 9:9–10 (NIV84)

9 Rejoice greatly, O Daughter of Zion! Shout, Daughter of Jerusalem!

See, your king comes to you, righteous and having salvation, gentle and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.

10 I will take away the chariots from Ephraim and the war-horses from Jerusalem, and the battle bow will be broken.

He will proclaim peace to the nations.

His rule will extend from sea to sea and from the River to the ends of the earth.

Well, Jesus didn’t own a donkey so he had to borrow one.

He instructed his disciples to secure one and bring it to him.

The disciples put their cloaks on it and Jesus sat on it and started riding into town.

Others would lay their cloaks on the path ahead of him.

(Kind of like giving him the “red carpet” treatment — a show of honor.)

Although Luke does not mention it, palms were also involved.

Matthew 21:8 (NIV84)

8 A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, while others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road.

We witness here an impromptu parade (prophesied centuries earlier) happening as large crowds honored Jesus and praised God for what they anticipated Jesus would do

Do we have modern equivalents of this?

Well, we do have parades that honor individuals or groups of people after a victory — armed conflict or sports.

We do have someone following a route in a city during which they are praised.

Large crowds will cheer in anticipation of a victory: Pep rallies or political rallies.

It seems that the majority of the people in Jerusalem loved this parade and this man who had come into their town.

Why?

Messianic hopefuls

Victor over Rome

Deliverance from sin, death, and the devil.

We still celebrate Jesus coming into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday.

Hopefully, it is because we believe in why he came earth — to deliver us from our spiritual enemies — not to make life on this earth easier which he can do but that was not his primary purpose.

But not everyone loves a parade.

I recently became aware that some people, including my spouse and closest friends, hate parades.

Hate everything about them.

The marching bands.

The feathery plumage on the band hats.

The masses of sticky children squinting at the parade’s horizon.

They hate things I love, like the big-hair rodeo princesses, as well as things it never occurred to me to hate, like the vague threat of clowns.

I drag this contingent of parade haters with me every year, convinced they’re just going through a phase or they’re unhappy with the weather.

They clatter behind me like aluminum cans on a string.

They’re not going through a phase.

They hate parades.

And they’ve been wondering when I might notice that they, not I, are the majority.

In an ideal world, I arrive at a parade about two days early.

I sit in my little square of heaven, grape soda in one hand and bag of kettle corn in the other.

My position along the parade route is hand-selected to maximize the odds of hearing good musical performances: Anywhere near the TV cameras works best.

My loved ones don’t share this passion.

They don’t care if we arrive late or leave early.

They don’t care who the grand marshal is or whether the mayor looks like he wishes he were somewhere else.

They don’t enjoy speculating why flag-team outfits are so aggressively unflattering, or what’s the most dignified technique for scooping horse poop, or what happens to square dancers who get separated from the herd.

They’re fine with settling for some random spot near the end of the route, where the waving gets perfunctory and the drummers tap out a listless cadence.