More Than One Celebrity in the Parade

John 12:9-19
Palm Sunday
March 29, 2026
William G. Carter

When the great crowd of the Jews learned that he was there, they came not only because of Jesus but also to see Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. So the chief priests planned to put Lazarus to death as well, since it was on account of him that many of the Jews were deserting and were believing in Jesus.

 

The next day the great crowd that had come to the festival heard that Jesus was coming to Jerusalem. So they took branches of palm trees and went out to meet him, shouting, “Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord - the King of Israel!”

 

Jesus found a young donkey and sat on it, as it is written: “Do not be afraid, daughter of Zion. Look, your king is coming, sitting on a donkey’s colt!”

 

His disciples did not understand these things at first, but when Jesus was glorified, then they remembered that these things had been written of him and had been done to him. So the crowd that had been with him when he called Lazarus out of the tomb and raised him from the dead continued to testify. It was also because they heard that he had performed this sign that the crowd went to meet him. The Pharisees then said to one another, “You see, you can do nothing. Look, the world has gone after him!”

 

Palm Sunday is a favorite day in the church year. For many, this is a day they do not want to miss. But how much do you really know about Palm Sunday? Here’s a little quiz.

• True or false: Jesus rode a donkey downhill into the city of Jerusalem. True – all the accounts say that, although the Gospel of Matthew suggests he rode two animals into the city.
• True or false: The crowds sang a Passover psalm, as Jesus arrived in the city. True, Psalm 118 is the psalm. Passover was the reason a crowd was gathering in the city.
• True or false: All the versions of the story say the crowds waved palms as Jesus arrive. False, only the Gospel of John mentions the palms.
• True or false: Palm branches had a political overtone. True, in the Maccabean Revolt, 176 BC, Jewish rebels waved palm branches as they rose up against the Greek emperor Antiochus Epiphanes. It was the original No Emperor Rally.
• True or false: There’s evidence that Jesus didn’t want people to wave palms. True: In the Greek text of the account we hear today, there is word for “but,” as in “they waved palm branches, but Jesus chose a donkey.” For some reason, it doesn’t show up in the English translation but it’s there. 
• True or false: On Palm Sunday, everybody wanted to see Jesus. Partly true: According to John’s version of the story, they also came to see Lazarus, who was with him. How often do you see somebody raised from the dead? There was more than one celebrity in that parade.

Clearly there was a lot going on. The crowds swarmed the city for the Passover, a holiday that celebrated freedom from political oppression. The Roman Emperor positioned soldiers to keep a lid on the noise. Word was spreading about the raising of Lazarus from the dead, who now walks beside Jesus. The Temple leaders were desperate to maintain the status quo. And Lazarus? What’s he doing there? I guess if your friend got you out of your own tomb, you’d want to stay close to his side.

 

It’s no wonder the Gospel of John says, “His disciples did not understand these things at first.” That’s the best understatement for Holy Week. Who understands? Who sees clearly? And Jesus mounts the humble donkey and rides right into the whole mess.

 

Palm Sunday invites us to step into the ambivalence. We’ve been positioned through our own history to see this day as a great triumph. “Here comes Jesus, riding down the hill from the Mount of Olives. He will show those Romans a thing or two!” But what he shows them is vulnerability. He is defenseless. He carries no weapons. If he has any power, he withholds it. He chooses to ride into the city.

 

The religious leaders saw Jesus as a threat. Of course they did. They posed themselves as the Guardians of the Present Order. They believed in custom, stability, order, ritual, repetition, to say nothing of their own particular slant on power. They had a different kind of authority over the people, guarding the public access to heaven. And here comes Jesus. He was strangely indifferent to their inherited positions. He had no regard for the riches they gained by running the Temple. He had access to Holiness that they could not manage or control.

 

So, John tells us they decided to get rid of Jesus. Rub him out. Erase him from history. They had been fuming about him from early in John’s book. The clarity comes by chapter five, as they argued with Jesus in Jerusalem. They pick it up again in chapter seven as the Festival of the Booths. They tried to stone him in chapter eight, cursed him in chapter nine, tried to arrest him in chapter ten, and condemned him in chapter eleven. Their fury does not come out of nowhere. They felt threatened by him. Yet he shows them freedom. He is not intimidated by animosity.

 

And then there are the crowds. Back in chapter six, a huge multitude formed around Jesus. He gave the sick free medical care and the crowd increased. They had no food, so he “took the bread and blessed it, and gave it to them.” There was more than enough free food. What did the crowd do? They cheered, and praised, and wanted to forcefully make him their king. Just like they said on Palm Sunday: “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord – the King of Israel!” They call him their king…

 

…but… Jesus won’t be that kind of king. He did not come to hand out freebies on demand. He came in the glory of God, with grace in one hand, truth in the other. And they did not understand. Nobody understood, not until his death and resurrection, which John calls his “glory.”

 

In the version of the story that we receive today, John offers a diagnosis of the human situation. It’s simply stated: “They came, not only to see Jesus, but to see Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead.” They came to see the spectacle. They came to see the celebrity, not one but two.” And this was powerfully compelling.

 

Ever see a famous person? Most of us have, I suppose. One of the young adults in our family worked in a hotel downtown. Notable people checked in and out all the time. She met presidential candidates (they all come through Scranton), airline pilots, and rock stars staying under assumed names.

 

One night a bus rolled up to the door and forty-two professional wrestlers stepped into the hotel. Her job was to take their names and check their ID’s. One of the wrestlers pushed to the head of the line. She said, “Name and ID, please.” The man said, “Don’t you know who I am?” “No,” she replied, “my brother would know you, but I need to see your ID.” He got pretty hot about it. Turns out, his stage name was different from his driver’s license.

 

Think about that question: “Don’t you know who I am?” As if everybody should know, and many people will. Whenever I wait to get my hair cut, I usually pick up a People magazine and thumb through it. Maybe it’s my age, or my increasing indifference, but I don’t know who most of those people are. Young starlets, ready to be consumed by the publicity machine. Aging actors, scrambling for a comeback, attempting one more notable role. Pop musicians and rappers, most of whom I’ve never heard of; am I the only one in the room who flips through the Grammy awards and has no idea who these celebrities are?

 

Then there are those who are “famous for being famous.” What have they done with themselves? Put on makeup, pranced in front of the cameras, and trafficked in inanities. And when their star faded, let’s ignite a scandal to get back in the headlines. This is deemed “entertainment.” I will die happily someday, in the knowledge that I have never watched “Survivor,” “The Apprentice,” or “Keeping Up with the Kardashians.” Daily life is challenging enough without chasing after fake situations and fake human beings.

 

And then, the crowd said, “Look, there’s Lazarus. He’s back from the dead. Let’s go see him.” Maybe we can shake his hand, see if it’s still cold. “And there’s Jesus, the miracle worker. Maybe he will sign my Bible.”

 

… But … Jesus does not seem the least bit interested. Back in chapter six, the crowd wanted to force Jesus to be king and he hid. In chapter eight, the religious leaders picked up stones to throw them at Jesus and he disappeared. Now they saw him, then they didn’t. Revealed and concealed. He will not be “captured.” But he may come to teach you about yourself – and then show you something about God.

 

This has been John’s theme all through out the season of Lent. We can’t make a celebrity out of Jesus. He slips away. We can’t even make a celebrity of Lazarus. This is his final named appearance in the Gospel of John. Raised from the dead, walked into town beside Jesus and his donkey, then never heard from again. What was that about? Not about his celebrity status. It was always about the glory of God, and only about God.

 

Jesus comes to your town. Something happens, then he’s gone. He doesn’t stick around for photos or autographs. But he has come. And his coming has punctured everything that once seemed important.

 

This is so hard for us to comprehend, especially in the world we have constructed. We would really like to meet somebody famous, because we could tell people about them, and that would make us famous. Famous, as in, a little bit more notable than ourselves. A little bit taller, a little bit bigger. And then if somebody really important comes to town, the excitement can carry us for quite some time.

 

“Look,” they said, “here comes Jesus. And there’s Lazarus, whom he raised from the dead.” The buzz intensified. Everybody was talking. The noise grew so loud that the Temple Keepers turned around, saw what was happening, and started shaking in their boots. They agreed: “Jesus has to go because look what he did to Lazarus. Lazarus has to go, too.”

 

Of all the stupid things spoken in the Gospel of John, that has to be the worst. They wanted to kill Lazarus because Jesus raised him from the dead. Wow, just wow. If they kill him, won’t Jesus raise him again?

 

And they wanted to kill the One who gave life back to Lazarus. Whew. Don’t they hear what they are saying? Don’t they understand? No, of course they don’t understand. None of us will comprehend until Jesus dies, and Jesus is raised, and then we begin to understand his death and resurrection are the glory of God. We cannot comprehend until we perceive his death reveals the truth about us and his resurrection reveals the grace of God. Death and resurrection, truth and grace.

 

Welcome to Holy Week according to the Gospel of John. It’s not about celebrity, but humility. Not about drawing more attention to us but pointing to the One who is the source of all life. It’s not about eliminating threats to exalted status but welcoming every intrusion that exposes all that is fake, false, and temporary. It’s not about using violence to exert control, but about choosing the alternative of quiet service. Just like Jesus.

 

“And they did not understand.” Not yet. But Friday is coming, then Sunday. Perhaps this time light will penetrate the darkness. What do you think?

(c) William G. Carter. All rights reserved.