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Knoxville, TN, United States
Interim Pastor of Evergreen Presbyterian Church (USA), Dothan, AL.

Sunday, March 24, 2024

"The Mystery at the Parade"

 “The Mystery at the Parade”

Palm Sunday 2024


First Reading


Zechariah 9:9-12

New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition


9 Rejoice greatly, O daughter Zion!

    Shout aloud, O daughter Jerusalem!

See, your king comes to you;

    triumphant and victorious is he,

humble and riding on a donkey,

    on a colt, the foal of a donkey.

10 He[a] will cut off the chariot from Ephraim

    and the war horse from Jerusalem;

and the battle bow shall be cut off,

    and he shall command peace to the nations;

his dominion shall be from sea to sea

    and from the River to the ends of the earth.


11 As for you also, because of the blood of my covenant with you,

    I will set your prisoners free from the waterless pit.

12 Return to your stronghold, O prisoners of hope;

    today I declare that I will restore to you double.




I want to give a shout-out to all the Sunday School teachers. 

Especially a word of thanks to the ones trying today, to make Palm Sunday make sense to small children. 


As a little guy attending Sunday School in the West Virginia hills, I loved Palm Sunday. 

It was one day at church when kids got to be kids. 

Everybody got their own palm branch. 

The quicker ones got two, maybe three. 

And then, we got to shake them when the preacher said shake. 

And kinda whenever we could get away with it without our parents getting after us. 

We tiny Presbyterians got to praise Jesus like real boys and girls. 

And I now believe that if that’s the only message kids get on Palm Sunday, that’s enough. 

Jesus wants you to be you. 

Shake what your usher gave you.


The Sunday School teachers tried. God bless them. Mrs. Allen tried to explain Palm Sunday to us. 

The lessons usually focused on miracles. 

Which is weird, because Palm Sunday is the one day Jesus didn’t perform any of his usual miracles. 

So, God bless the Sunday School teachers. 

Always.


Was it a miracle Jesus knew there was a donkey in the next town. Really? 

Because in first century Israel, I’d think that was a safe guess. 

Was it a miracle the man would loan Jesus his donkey. Really? 

Because Jewish law required hospitality to strangers. 

Was it a miracle everyone recognized Jesus and praised him. Really? 

Wouldn’t they have read about him on the internet? 

Or heard about him through the grapevine? 

It’s not a large country. 


When I got a little older and started asking questions of my God-forsaken teachers, there were mysteries about Palm Sunday that just didn’t add up. 

It seemed as if we were only getting half the story. 

And… we were. 

Palm Sunday gives us clues. 

And like good detectives, if we follow the trail, 

or, more precisely, if we follow the parade, 

we find that the whole story – is a whole lot more interesting.



The Mystery at The Great Parade


Mark 11:1-11

When they (Jesus and his disciples) were approaching Jerusalem, at Bethphage and Bethany, near the Mount of Olives, he sent two of his disciples and said to them, “Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately as you enter it, you will find tied there a colt that has never been ridden; untie it and bring it. If anyone says to you, ‘Why are you doing this?’ just say this, ‘The Lord needs it and will send it back here immediately.’” They went away and found a colt tied near a door, outside in the street. As they were untying it, some of the bystanders said to them, “What are you doing, untying the colt?” They told them what Jesus had said; and they allowed them to take it. Then they brought the colt to Jesus and threw their cloaks on it; and he sat on it. Many people spread their cloaks on the road, and others spread leafy branches that they had cut in the fields. Then those who went ahead and those who followed were shouting,

“Hosanna!

Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!

Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David!

Hosanna in the highest heaven!”

Then he entered Jerusalem and went into the temple; and when he had looked around at everything, as it was already late, he went out to Bethany with the twelve.




Foreigners from up north don’t know Dothan, Alabama. 

They don't know how Dothan literally changed the world. 

With rich soil and fertile minds like George Washington Carver, Dothan is the Holy Land of agricultural science – 

the Mecca, the Jerusalem. 

People should be making pilgrimages, HERE.


Some do. 

In October. 

For the Peanut Festival. 

For the fair. 

For the parade



The Peanut Festival Parade. 

Maybe it’s not the fanciest. 

Certainly not as over-the-top as Macy’s in “New York City.” 

But I’ve been to both, and the Peanut Festival Parade is far more pleasant, definitely warmer, and has way fewer nuts. 

If you know what I mean. 

Dothan’s parade is a “people's parade.”


As a Junior Detective, new to the area, I nosed around the internet to find out more about the Peanut Festival Parade. 

I was shocked. Shocked, I tell you, 

to find out there’s more than one Peanut Festival. 



There’s one in Sylvester, Georgia. 



There’s one in Floresville, Texas.



One in Suffolk, Virginia.



That’s just to name a few. 

And guess what. 


Every one of these festivals – has a parade.



Festival, festival, festival. 

Parade, parade, parade. 

Sounds like someone’s selling cheap knock-offs of the original. 

But to be fair I haven't seen their parades. 

They might be pretty good. 

But how would we know?


We should have a Peanut Parade-off. 


Right here. Dothan would be the perfect place. 



Station the parades around Ross Clark Circle and have them march to the center of town. 

Then we’ll know which one’s best. 

Chamber of Commerce, you're welcome.


But with that many paraders, you’d have to have some serious crowd control at midtown.




Who knows what could happen when that many opposing forces converge? 

Historians would write of The Great Peanut Parade Pandemonium of 2024. 

Eisenhower. Napoleon. Saliba.





This is kind of like what happened on the first Palm Sunday, 2000 years ago. 

Christians talk about, we teach our children about, Jesus and “the people’s” Palm Sunday parade. 

The joyful crowds spontaneously and miraculously lining the streets. 

Waving palm branches. 

Laying their cloaks on the dusty road to make a route for their Messiah. 

Everyone shouting, “Hosanna!” 

Following and singing praises as Jesus makes his way from the outer walls to the inner center, the Temple of God, the beating heart of Jerusalem. 

On his way to Easter. 

On his way for us. 

On the way to us.


That’s the parade we celebrate and sometimes re-enact in church. 

But that parade’s only half the story. 

Because, just a little investigation reveals there was another parade that day, too. 

And this was no “people’s parade.” 

Jesus’s Triumphal Entry parade makes much more sense when you know about the (un)holy parade converging from the opposite side of town.


Christians tend to forget. 

We don’t talk about Parade Number Two, the alt-parade, the unholy one. 

Probably because the Bible doesn’t even talk about it. 

Why not? 

Probably because the Bible was written for people who remembered the Bad Parade all too well, and who had seen it too many times. 

Some things are better forgotten. 

Some things are best left unsaid. 

Especially when the authorities are listening, just waiting for the chance to stage another of their marches.


So, what’s the meaning of these two parades for us? 

Why does it make any difference? 


Because, I think, 2000 years later, we’re still replaying this investigation. 

We still have to choose. 


Which parade do you want to go to? 

Which parade are we marching in? 

Which route is Jesus leading us down, this Palm Sunday?




This is going to take some detective work. 

So first, we need a map. Set the scene.



The Bible tells us Jesus was up north in the region of Galilee, making his way south to Jerusalem. 

Every Passover, good, observant Jews made a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, down in Judea, to the Temple, God’s holiest place, for the holiest feast of the year.


So, plug in the GPS and go, right? 

It’s a little more complicated in the First Century. 

First, there were no satellites. 

Second, the highway system was, let’s say, underdeveloped. 

And, third – and this is big – if you’re Jewish, going from Galilee to Judea, you can’t just “Go South.” 

Because look what’s between Galilee and Judea. 

Samaria. 

You remember Samaria, the home of the Good Samaritan. 

In the Jewish mind, a “good Samaritan” was a contradiction in terms. 

No such thing. 

Observant Jews went around Samaria rather than setting one foot in that nasty place.


So, Jesus’s journey would have detoured around Samaria. 

To the east. 

That’s a clue. 

East is important.






The eastern path is the red dotted line. 

So Jesus would have likely gone through Beth Shean, Pella, Sukkoth, and Jericho.

The clues add up because Bible tells us Jesus entered Jerusalem after passing through Bethphage and Bethany, also east of Jerusalem. 

We have to zoom in to see them.




Bethphage and Bethany are little tiny towns east of the city. 

But they’re important. 

More clues.


If you were celebrating Passover, you would have wanted to enter the Temple from the Holy Gate, what’s called the Golden Gate, on the east side of the city. 

Another clue.


In Jewish religion, East was the sacred direction. 

East is the direction of the rising sun, where God puts each day in motion. 

The prophet Zechariah, who we read earlier, says in chapter 14, that the Messiah will come from the East after setting his feet on the Mount of Olives. 

See the Mount of Olives just south of Bethphage? 

Even the way Jesus entered town was full of religious importance.


So, putting together the clues, the Palm Sunday “people’s parade” for Jesus, would have entered the city from the holy east, for religious motives.


OK, there’s parade route Number One.




Meanwhile, from the west, the very UNholy west, came Parade Number Two. 

This was NOT a parade of the people. 

This parade would have been led by Pontius Pilate and his Roman legions, coming – 

not to celebrate the Passover festival, but to maintain order

Pilate and his forces always came to keep order – with an iron fist – 

and plenty of crucifixes for anyone who might think of committing treason against the Emperor. 

This parade – if you can call it a parade – would have come from the west, from Caesarea.




Pilate was the governor of Judea. 

Mainly an absentee landlord. 

Like most wealthy Roman appointees assigned jobs as political favors or political punishment, he despised the people over whom he got stuck dominating. 

Like most wealthy Roman yes-men, he had or was given a palatial home on the seaside. 

At Caesarea – note the name, Caesar-ea. 

Caesarea Maritima. 

Caesarea By-the-sea. 



Here are the remains of Pilate’s palace. 

Note the swimming pool with ocean view. 

It’s a fixer-upper. 

But in its heyday, it was something.


And, like all wealthy Roman appointees who dared not displease the imperial overlords, every crowded religious holiday, Passover being the biggest, Pilate would march his troops into Jerusalem and establish crowd control. 

With extreme prejudice.


So, while faithful Jews like Jesus entered Jerusalem from the east, Pilate would have marched his parade of troops from the unholy west, straight through the front gates of the city, the way any self-admiring dictator would naturally go. 



So now we get to the collision course. 



Think about it. 

If you were a Roman Emperor, or a representative of the Empire, riding into a city, in full military regalia, astride a massive stallion draped in tiger skin, surrounded by your troops, you’d look pretty darn impressive. 

Pretty darn pretentious, too. 

That’s what the oppressed, suppressed, distressed subjects in Judea thought. 

Who is this sniveling little man who dresses up like a god and who calls himself “Lord?” even, “The Son of God?”




And if you were a royal, and if you saw, or heard reports that people had seen, a peasant, entering town through the back door, on a borrowed donkey, welcomed with waving palms and hailed by your subjects as the true Lord, the true Son of God, might you think you were being made fun of? 

Being mocked? 

Being defied? 

Would you think, treason? 

The one, crucifiable offense?


So, two parades in Jerusalem that Palm Sunday.


One parade – an arrogant, expensive show of imperial force. An exercise in intimidation. 

Led by an earthly ruler. 

Staged by a tyrant.


And another parade – a parade of the people. 

Led by a man of the people. 

A man whom all the clues added up to his being maybe, maybe THE true liberator, the one prophesied, the one prayed for – for centuries. 

The one to be the eternal ruler, the Savior, the Messiah.


Two very different parades. 

How could there not be a collision? 

On the streets? 

In the heart? 

In the mind of the holy city? 

A head-on crash of not just parades, but of souls?


For me, once I have more clues about Palm Sunday, the story starts to add up. 

Knowing these things doesn’t solve the mystery, but it does make it make a little more sense. 




But even Nancy Drew couldn’t solve The Mystery At The Parade. 

Because it’s not that kind of mystery. 

The case is never closed. 

The questions are always with us. 


Two parades. 

Which one do you want to go to? 

Which one are we marching in? 

Where does the route of Jesus lead us? This Palm Sunday?


There are SO many parades. 

Not just two. 

Not just one for every festival. 

Every day, we’re invited – lured? – into the next one that comes along. 


There are parades of distraction. 

The ones that fill our time and take up space in our brains. 

Parades whose only purpose is to distract us, and harvest information from us. 

Looking at you, phone apps.


There are parades of half-stories and full-blown lies. 

Bandwagons that are easy to jump on because that’s where everybody else is headed. 

Looking at you, cable news.


There are parades of politics, parades of pleasure, parades of propaganda. 

Even religious parades where court jesters dress like kings, and live like them, too.


The mystery that’ll never be solved is why we like these parades so much. 

What in us likes the brute force of getting in line and being ordered about, knowingly or not?


But there are other parades, too. 

Pop-up parades that catch us up and draw us in. 

Spontaneously. 

Mysteriously.


When we see someone doing acts of kindness, someone standing up for justice, someone just walking humbly with their God, as in Micah 6:8. 

When we see these things or when we do these things, and when we think, “That’s how I want to be.” 

“That’s good, and gentle, and faithful.” 

“That’s right.” 

“That’s true.” 

“That’s going to be MY route.”


Why do these parades attract us? 

Why were so many attracted to Jesus’s parade on the far side of town? 

The quiet side. 

The holy side. 

I don’t know why, they’re just something we can’t turn away from. 

Maybe it’s the Holy Spirit, whispering in sighs too deep for words. 


When Jesus’s parade comes by, and when you know it, you don’t have to explain it. 

You follow the clues, instead of following the crowd. 

Can you have a parade of one? 

That’s another mystery. 


But all parades have to start somewhere.






Dothan

https://www.nationalpeanutfestival.com/

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d17yd4u2RVI


https://visitdothan.com/visit-dothan-al-a-city-with-a-rich-history/#:~:text=George%20Washington%20Carver%20began%20to,Peanut%20Capital%20of%20the%20world.



Sylvester GA Peanut Festival Parade

https://www.gapeanutfestival.org/parade/


Suffolk VA Peanut Festival

http://www.suffolkpeanutfest.com/peanut-fest-parade.html


Brooklet, GA Festival Parade

http://www.brookletpeanutfestival.com/


Floresville, TX Festival Parade

https://floresvillepeanutfestival.org/parades.php