I Hate a Parade

There are things about parades I hate...

Oh, let me back up - yesterday was Palm Sunday and we always talk about how Jesus led a parade that day (heck, Jesus WAS the parade that day) - especially when we talk to kids about Palm Sunday.

So, I had the children's message yesterday and I asked the kids what they liked about parades and it was, predictably, clowns, firetrucks, candy thrown to them, water squirted on them (is this just something we do up here in Western PA?)... I told them that my favorite part of parades are the marching bands...but even they frustrate me - since you only ever hear part of a song... Actually, I hate parades. I don't understand why we show off firetrucks and zem zem cars and girls waving pom-poms and flags...what does all that mean...

But, worse, I hate it when they give a parade and I don't know about it.

Last fall we were trying to drive through a town (after a long and somewhat frustrating morning with the girls) and it was HOMECOMING weekend - and there was a parade - and I wanted to get on the other side of it...and I made it clear to everyone in the car with me that I was very displeased that there was a parade here and no one asked me if it would be okay... I mean, what do I care about Coudersport's football team, really? Or their homecoming queens? I needed to get to the Sheetz on the other side of the parade (potty stop, thank you very much).

Sigh...

But I started thinking yesterday morning that that's kind of how the religious leaders must have felt in Jerusalem that day Jesus rode in on a donkey. Who gave him permission for this parade? Why weren't we consulted? What right does this radical have to come riding in and disrupt everthing we are doing and have planned?

So - I hate parades on some kind of deeply religious level...

What happens when Jesus rides in? Do I complain about him disrupting all my intricate and well-laid plans?

Yeah, that's exactly what I do...

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