The King's Inconspicuous Invasion
Introduction: The War of Two Parades
We must begin by understanding that the world is always the scene of a parade. There are always processions, always triumphs, always displays of what this or that kingdom deems to be ultimate power. When a Roman general returned victorious, he would enter the city in a grand triumph. It was a spectacle of raw, intimidating power. There would be military legions, warhorses, the spoils of conquered nations, and chained captives paraded through the streets as a demonstration of Rome's might. The message was simple and brutal: we are strong, you are weak, so submit or be crushed.
Into this world, a world that understands only the language of the warhorse, Jesus Christ stages a counter-parade. His triumphal entry into Jerusalem is a deliberate, calculated act of war, but it is a war fought with entirely different weapons. It is a direct confrontation of worldviews, a clash between the kingdom of God and the kingdom of man. The world says glory is found in domination. Christ says it is found on a donkey. The world says power is in the sword. Christ says it is in the cross. The world says a king takes life. Christ says a king gives his life.
This event, which we so often sentimentalize with children waving palm branches, was in fact the most audacious act of political and spiritual treason. It was an invasion. Jesus was not sneaking into the city; He was invading it as its rightful King. But He did so in a way that would upend every human expectation of what a king is and what a kingdom is for. He was declaring that a new government had arrived, one that operates on the principles of humility, sacrifice, and resurrection power. This is not just a story about a parade; it is a declaration of the nature of God's rule over all things.
The Text
On the next day the large crowd who had come to the feast, when they heard that Jesus was coming to Jerusalem, took the branches of the palm trees and went out to meet Him, and began to shout, "Hosanna! BLESSED IS HE WHO COMES IN THE NAME OF THE LORD, even the King of Israel." And Jesus, finding a young donkey, sat on it; as it is written, "FEAR NOT, DAUGHTER OF ZION; BEHOLD, YOUR KING IS COMING, SEATED ON A DONKEY'S COLT." These things His disciples did not understand at the first; but when Jesus was glorified, then they remembered that these things were written about Him, and that they had done these things to Him. So the crowd, who was with Him when He called Lazarus out of the tomb and raised him from the dead, continued to bear witness about Him. For this reason also the crowd went and met Him, because they heard that He had done this sign. So the Pharisees said to one another, "You see that you are gaining nothing; look, the world has gone after Him."
(John 12:12-19 LSB)
The Volatile Hope of the Crowd (vv. 12-13)
We begin with the reaction of the people.
"On the next day the large crowd who had come to the feast, when they heard that Jesus was coming to Jerusalem, took the branches of the palm trees and went out to meet Him, and began to shout, 'Hosanna! BLESSED IS HE WHO COMES IN THE NAME OF THE LORD, even the King of Israel.'" (John 12:12-13)
Jerusalem is swollen with pilgrims for the Passover, the feast celebrating God's deliverance of Israel from bondage in Egypt. The atmosphere is thick with nationalistic fervor and messianic expectation. And into this powder keg walks Jesus, fresh from raising a man named Lazarus from the dead. News of this has spread like wildfire, and the people are electric with anticipation.
Their actions are explicitly political. The palm branches were a symbol of Jewish nationalism and victory, harkening back to the Maccabean revolt against foreign oppressors centuries earlier. This is the equivalent of waving national flags at a political rally. They are not just welcoming a popular teacher; they are hailing a potential revolutionary.
Their words are a direct quote from Psalm 118, a psalm sung by pilgrims on their way to Jerusalem, a psalm overflowing with messianic hope. "Hosanna" is a cry that means "Save us, now!" It is both a plea and a declaration. They are crying out for a deliverer, and they are identifying Jesus as that deliverer. They get the title right: "King of Israel." But they have the job description all wrong. They want a king who will fulfill their political agenda, a king who will drive out the Romans and restore the earthly glory of David's throne. They want a Messiah who will serve them and their ambitions. This is the constant temptation of the human heart: to recruit Jesus to our cause, rather than surrendering ourselves to His.
The King's Prophetic Declaration (vv. 14-15)
Jesus responds to their acclamation not with a speech, but with a symbolic action that defines the nature of His kingship.
"And Jesus, finding a young donkey, sat on it; as it is written, 'FEAR NOT, DAUGHTER OF ZION; BEHOLD, YOUR KING IS COMING, SEATED ON A DONKEY'S COLT.'" (John 12:14-15)
This is not a spontaneous, humble gesture. It is a deliberate, public, and prophetic claim. Jesus is intentionally fulfilling the prophecy of Zechariah 9:9. Every Jew in that crowd would have understood the significance. He was unequivocally declaring, "I am the one Zechariah spoke of. I am your King."
But the very prophecy He fulfills subverts their expectations. A conquering king rides a warhorse, a symbol of power, wealth, and military conquest. Solomon had thousands of them. But this King comes on a donkey's colt, an animal of peace and humility. The message is clear: I am a king, but not the kind of king you are looking for. My kingdom is not of this world. My victory will not be won with swords and chariots. I come not to conquer by killing my enemies, but by dying for them.
This is the great paradox of the gospel, the divine irony that offends the proud. God's power is displayed in weakness. The way to glory is the path of humility. The world worships the warhorse, but the Kingdom of God advances on the back of a donkey. This is an affront to all our fleshly desires for power and prestige. We want a Christ who makes us strong and victorious in the eyes of the world, but we must first bow to the Christ who made Himself of no reputation.
The Blindness of Friends and Foes (vv. 16, 19)
John gives us two parenthetical notes here, showing that at the moment, no one truly understood what was happening.
"These things His disciples did not understand at the first; but when Jesus was glorified, then they remembered that these things were written about Him, and that they had done these things to Him." (John 12:16)
This is a remarkable admission. Even His closest followers were caught up in the same nationalistic misunderstanding as the crowd. They were likely thrilled, thinking the revolution was finally at hand. They saw the parade, but they missed the point entirely.
John tells us when their understanding came: "when Jesus was glorified." In John's gospel, the glorification of Jesus is His crucifixion, resurrection, and ascension. It was only after the cross that the pieces fell into place. The cross is the interpretive key to all of Scripture and all of Jesus' life. Without the cross, this is just a failed political demonstration. But seen through the lens of the cross, the triumphal entry is the coronation of the King who conquers through sacrifice. This is a profound encouragement for us. We often do not understand God's providence in the moment. It is only in looking back, through the lens of the cross, that we can see His sovereign hand at work.
And the enemies were just as blind.
"So the Pharisees said to one another, 'You see that you are gaining nothing; look, the world has gone after Him.'" (John 12:19)
The Pharisees are in a panic. Their authority is slipping away. Their statement is a wonderful piece of divine irony. In their frustration, they speak a greater truth than they know. They mean that the Jewish world of Jerusalem is flocking to Jesus. But John, writing decades later, knows that their words were a prophecy. Because of the cross they were about to orchestrate, the entire Gentile world would indeed go after Him. Their complaint was an unwitting prediction of the Great Commission. The enemies of Christ, in their very opposition, serve to advance His kingdom. Their panic is a testimony to His sovereignty.
The Reason for the Tumult (vv. 17-18)
John now circles back to explain the immediate cause of this public explosion.
"So the crowd, who was with Him when He called Lazarus out of the tomb and raised him from the dead, continued to bear witness about Him. For this reason also the crowd went and met Him, because they heard that He had done this sign." (John 12:17-18)
The catalyst for this whole event was the resurrection of Lazarus. This was not a mere healing. This was a man four days in the grave, already decomposing, called back to life by a simple command. This sign was a demonstration of absolute power over death, the ultimate enemy. The logic of the crowd was straightforward: if this man can conquer death, He can certainly conquer Rome.
They saw the power, but they misjudged its purpose. They wanted that resurrection power to be used for their political liberation. They followed Him for the signs, for what they thought He could do for them. But when He offered them not a political kingdom but a cross, their allegiance evaporated. This is the nature of a faith built on signs and wonders. It is a consumer faith. It lasts only as long as God is delivering the goods we have ordered. True faith does not follow Christ for the miracles; it follows the Christ who is Himself the ultimate miracle, even when His path leads to suffering and death.
Conclusion: The Treason of the Heart
This entire scene is saturated with the language of kingship and treason. The crowd hailed Him as king, hoping He would commit treason against Caesar. The Pharisees accused Him of treason against God by making Himself equal with God. But the greatest treason was yet to come.
Within a week, the same city that shouted "Hosanna!" would be screaming "Crucify Him!" The same crowds that laid down palms would be calling for His blood. This is the ultimate treason. They wanted a king on their own terms, and when He refused to be that kind of king, they murdered Him. This is the treason that lurks in every human heart. We want to be sovereign. We want a God who serves our agenda, blesses our plans, and conforms to our expectations. And when the true God reveals Himself as the absolute sovereign who demands our unconditional surrender, our hearts cry out, "We have no king but Caesar! We will not have this man to rule over us!"
The question this passage forces upon us is this: which parade are you marching in? Are you in the world's parade, with its warhorses and its lust for power and recognition? Or are you in the Lord's parade, the humble procession that follows the donkey-riding King? To join His parade, you must first confess your treason. You must admit that you have tried to be your own king. You must bow the knee to the one who invaded Jerusalem not to destroy His enemies, but to die for them. He entered the city in humility so that He could exit it in agony, bearing our sin. He came to save. That is the meaning of Hosanna. And by His death and resurrection, He has answered that cry for all who will abandon their own thrones and hail Him as Lord.