Palm Sunday: The Parade and the Tears

Eight Days that Changed the World

The Parade and the Tears

“He wept over it, saying, ‘Would that you, even you, had known on this day the things that make for peace!’” —Luke 19:41–42

It sounds like joy.
It looks like triumph.
It feels like a parade.

Palm Sunday is a day of celebration, yes—but also a day of contradiction. Jesus is riding a donkey. The crowd is waving palm branches and shouting Hosanna! The children are singing. It all sounds like a coronation.

But then, Jesus stops. He looks at the city. And He weeps.

That’s the part we miss.

Several years ago, I led a tour to Israel for Holy Week, and we joined a Palm Sunday procession through the streets of Jerusalem. It was not a contemplative journey. Not a quiet walk, but a full-on parade—20,000 people moving from Bethany along the Palm Sunday Road, streaming down the Mount of Olives, pressing through the narrow streets of the Old City. There were horns, tambourines, shrill songs from a dozen languages, and flags from nearly every continent. It was chaotic and joyful and unforgettable.

And yet… the whole time, we were walking under the watchful eye of heavily armed Israeli police. Joy, yes—but not peace. Excitement, yes—but not assured safety. It reminded me how fragile the celebration must have been on that first Palm Sunday, too.

Jesus knew what lay ahead. The crowd didn’t.

We often join that parade without realizing where it ends.