It's Easier to Celebrate Jesus Than It Is to Follow
Reflections on discipleship for Palm Sunday.
Blessed Palm Sunday to you. Below, I’ve included both a continuation of our journey through Luke (9:57-10:12) and the Lukan version of Jesus’ entrance into Jerusalem.
Paired together, there’s a tension in today’s readings that’s hard to ignore.
In Luke 9, people demonstrate an eagerness to follow Jesus. But when it gets specific, when it gets costly, hesitation creeps in. There are reasons to delay. Responsibilities to tend to. Loose ends to tie up. Jesus doesn’t dismiss those things as meaningless. But he does make clear that following him doesn’t wait for life to settle down.
And then, not long after, Jesus enters Jerusalem to a very different kind of response.
There, the crowds are not hesitant. They are loud and certain and celebratory. They lay down their cloaks and shout praises. They want a king, and they believe they see one. (And they do.) But it’s striking: in one moment, people hesitate when asked to follow. In another, they have no problem praising.
It’s easier to celebrate Jesus than to follow him.
The crowds in Jerusalem are not wrong to praise. But they don’t yet understand what kind of king he is. They are ready for victory, for power, for something that aligns with their hopes and expectations. What they are not yet ready for is a king who refuses domination, who walks toward suffering, who calls his followers into a life that looks more like surrender than control.
Looking around today, that tension hasn’t gone away. We still shape Jesus into the kind of king we want. We make him into one who affirms our instincts, our politics, and our sense of right and wrong. A Jesus who conquers in the ways we understand conquest. A Jesus who reinforces the world as we see it.
But his words and example keep pulling us somewhere else. Not just toward belief, but toward a life. Not just toward admiration, but toward life transformation and life participation.
He calls us to a way of being in the world that can’t be reduced to slogans, sides, bumper stickers, and t-shirts.
Following Jesus is not about getting our version of him right. It’s about allowing his life to reorder ours. The same one who receives the praise of the crowds is the one who says, “Follow me,” without conditions.
And those two things don’t always go together as easily as we’d like.
Luke 9:57-10:12
As Jesus and his disciples traveled along the road, someone said to him, “I will follow you wherever you go.”
Jesus replied, “Foxes have dens and the birds in the sky have nests, but the Human One has no place to lay his head.”
Then Jesus said to someone else, “Follow me.”
He replied, “Lord, first let me go and bury my father.”
Jesus said to him, “Let the dead bury their own dead. But you go and spread the news of God’s kingdom.”
Someone else said to Jesus, “I will follow you, Lord, but first let me say good-bye to those in my house.”
Jesus said to him, “No one who puts a hand on the plow and looks back is fit for God’s kingdom.”
After these things, the Lord commissioned seventy-two others and sent them on ahead in pairs to every city and place he was about to go. He said to them, “The harvest is bigger than you can imagine, but there are few workers. Therefore, plead with the Lord of the harvest to send out workers for his harvest. Go! Be warned, though, that I’m sending you out as lambs among wolves. Carry no wallet, no bag, and no sandals. Don’t even greet anyone along the way. Whenever you enter a house, first say, ‘May peace be on this house.’ If anyone there shares God’s peace, then your peace will rest on that person. If not, your blessing will return to you. Remain in this house, eating and drinking whatever they set before you, for workers deserve their pay. Don’t move from house to house. Whenever you enter a city and its people welcome you, eat what they set before you. Heal the sick who are there, and say to them, ‘God’s kingdom has come upon you.’ Whenever you enter a city and the people don’t welcome you, go out into the streets and say, ‘As a complaint against you, we brush off the dust of your city that has collected on our feet. But know this: God’s kingdom has come to you.’ I assure you that Sodom will be better off on Judgment Day than that city.
Luke 19:28–40
After Jesus said this, he continued on ahead, going up to Jerusalem.
As Jesus came to Bethphage and Bethany on the Mount of Olives, he gave two disciples a task. He said, “Go into the village over there. When you enter it, you will find tied up there a colt that no one has ever ridden. Untie it and bring it here. If anyone asks, ‘Why are you untying it?’ just say, ‘Its master needs it.’” Those who had been sent found it exactly as he had said.
As they were untying the colt, its owners said to them, “Why are you untying the colt?”
They replied, “Its master needs it.” They brought it to Jesus, threw their clothes on the colt, and lifted Jesus onto it. As Jesus rode along, they spread their clothes on the road.
As Jesus approached the road leading down from the Mount of Olives, the whole throng of his disciples began rejoicing. They praised God with a loud voice because of all the mighty things they had seen. They said,
“Blessings on the king who comes in the name of the Lord.
Peace in heaven and glory in the highest heavens.”
Some of the Pharisees from the crowd said to Jesus, “Teacher, scold your disciples! Tell them to stop!”
He answered, “I tell you, if they were silent, the stones would shout.”
Prayer
God,
I’m always a bit conflicted on Palm Sunday. I’m not one for putting my hands in the air much, so waving a palm branch feels a bit contrived. And it’s hard for me to separate Palm Sunday from Good Friday. I love that he rides a donkey. I imagine what’s going through Jesus’ head as he does so. He doesn’t stop the praise, but he knows what’s coming.
So God, as your Church gathers around the world today, hit us squarely with the heart of his message of discipleship. That his kingship isn’t simply something to gather praise glory, but to embody sacrifice for the sake of the world.
For the sake of the world…the whole world. Let us not forget, Lord. Erase our boundaries, strike our separations. You are one who - in one movement - broke boundaries of oppression and created ones of holy community. Do it in us.
By your Spirit & in Christ,
Amen.