The Way Of Humility
There’s something about a parade that draws us in.
Maybe it’s the anticipation—the waiting, the watching, the slow build as float after float passes by. Or maybe it’s the spectacle: the music, the colour, the smiles, the sense that something special is about to arrive.
I remember standing on a cold November street in downtown Winnipeg with our young kids, bundled up for the Santa Claus parade. There were moments of excitement along the way, but if I’m honest, we were all waiting for the same thing—the main event. By the time Santa finally arrived, cold toes and restless energy gave way to wonder. The wait was worth it.
Parades have a way of focusing our attention. They build expectation. They stir hope.
And that’s exactly the kind of moment we step into on Palm Sunday.
As we come to the end of our Lenten journey, we find ourselves at the beginning of what the Church has long called Passion Week. One week before Easter. One week before the resurrection. And it begins with a parade.
But not the kind anyone expected.
In Gospel of Luke 19:28–44, Jesus enters Jerusalem in what is often called the “Triumphal Entry.” Yet when we look closely, it’s a very different kind of triumph.
Imagine what people would have expected in that moment. In the ancient world, when a king entered a city, it was a display of power. War horses. Soldiers. Banners. Trumpets. A visible reminder of strength and domination.
But Jesus does something startling.
He rides in on a donkey.
This wasn’t random—it was deeply intentional. It echoes the promise of Book of Zechariah 9:9: “See, your king comes to you… lowly and riding on a donkey.” In that culture, a war horse symbolized conquest. A donkey symbolized peace.
Jesus is announcing the kind of King He is.
Not one who conquers through violence—but one who brings peace through humility.
The crowds, however, have their own expectations.
They spread cloaks on the road. They wave palm branches—symbols of national victory and hope. They shout, “Hosanna!” which means, “Save us now!” (Luke 19:38).
They believe deliverance has arrived.
But their vision is too small.
They are longing for freedom from Rome. Jesus has come to bring freedom from something deeper—sin, death, and the brokenness of the human heart.
And as the crowd cheers, something unexpected happens.
Jesus weeps.
“As he approached Jerusalem and saw the city, he wept over it…” (Luke 19:41).
The crowd celebrates. Jesus grieves.
Why?
Because they don’t yet understand what will truly bring them peace.
This moment reveals something essential about what we’ve been calling The Jesus Way.
In Epistle to the Philippians 2:6–8, we’re reminded that Jesus, though fully God, “made himself nothing… he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death—even death on a cross.”
The path of Jesus is not upward mobility—it’s downward surrender.
While the world operates like a ladder—climb higher, gain more, become greater—the kingdom of God looks more like a staircase going down.
Jesus teaches this clearly: “Whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant” (Gospel of Matthew 20:26).
This is the upside-down nature of God’s kingdom.
Greatness is found in humility.
Strength is revealed in surrender.
Victory comes through sacrifice.
Palm Sunday invites us to wrestle with an honest question:
What kind of greatness are we actually pursuing?
It’s easy to chase recognition, influence, or control. To climb the ladder in whatever way we can. But Jesus shows us another way—the way of the donkey, not the war horse.
The way of quiet faithfulness over public applause.
The way of serving when no one notices.
The way of forgiving when pride resists.
The way of laying down our rights for the sake of love.
This kind of humility isn’t weakness.
It’s courage.
It’s choosing love when power is available.
There’s also a sobering tension in this story.
The same voices that cry “Hosanna!” will, within days, cry “Crucify him.”
Human praise can be fleeting. Our hearts can be divided.
And yet, Jesus keeps moving forward.
He doesn’t turn away from the road ahead—even knowing it leads to the cross. Because He knows something we often forget:
Resurrection only comes after surrender.
Palm Sunday is beautiful—but it’s also bittersweet.
It reminds us that the kingdom of God doesn’t arrive the way we expect. It comes quietly. Humbly. Through sacrificial love.
It asks us not just to admire Jesus—but to follow Him.
To walk the same road.
The road that leads through humility…
through surrender…
through the cross…
and ultimately, to life.
So here’s the invitation:
As we step into this Holy Week, take an honest look at your own heart.
Where are you trying to climb, when Jesus is calling you to descend?
Where are you holding onto power, when He’s inviting you to surrender?
Where might humility, forgiveness, or quiet obedience open the door to real peace?
This week, choose one tangible step in The Jesus Way:
serve someone without recognition,
extend forgiveness,
listen instead of speaking,
or lay something down in trust.
Because the King who rode in on a donkey is still inviting us to follow Him.
And blessed are those who have the courage to walk that road.