Ride On!
Original sermon given on Palm Sunday, March 29, 2026 written and delivered by Pastor Jeff Leininger at First Saint Paul’s Lutheran Church.
Watch the sermon live.
“Ride On!”
Matthew 21:1-11
In the name of the Living God and the crucified Christ. Amen.
Who do you cheer for? Why do you cheer? College basketball’s “March Madness” is fully upon us, and although I’m not trying to appear irreverent, the voices shouting at TVs and at from the stands across the country might help us understand Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem that first Palm Sunday.
Let me explain: people cheer for their teams, for different reasons. Perhaps you graduated from a certain college, or even played on the team. Or, perhaps you were in the marching band. Or, perhaps you’re originally from that state, or that area of the country. Or, you’ve got deep family connections or history with that university. Or, you’ve got some “lame claim to fame”—a tangential connection to a player: “my second cousin’s son played with him in High School, so I have to cheer for him!”
Full disclosure: I just cheer for the Big Ten. And I do mean the Big Ten—none of these Big “Ten” pretenders like Rutgers or UCLA. Give me a game from the 80s, where you could throw elbows, when they called travelling, and you’d win 53-51 by hitting your free throws. That’s what I’m talking about.
There’s a lot of cheering happening on Palm Sunday, as well. Only in this case there’s but one, central player: Jesus. All eyes are on him, but all for very different reasons. To borrow a theme from this morning’s closing hymn: “Ride On, Ride On” is sung for the one Jesus riding into Jerusalem, but from many different perspectives for many different reasons. So the question raised for this Palm Sunday is not so much, “who do you cheer for?” but rather “why do you cheer?”
Let’s look at the different groups cheering, “Ride on, Jesus”, and let’s start with the most practical: the guy who owned the donkeys. There’re two beasts mentioned here in St. Matthew’s account—a momma with her young colt. Probably what is going on here is that a young colt, who had never been ridden before, needed to be led by its well-trained parent before being fully ready for labor. A little like when you first teach your teenagers to mow the lawn—you’re probably right there with them the first few times. Back to the donkeys’ owner: he might be shouting “Ride on, Jesus, ride on...and hurry up so I can get my donkeys’ back. I’ve got work to do before the Sabbath!”
Or, we could also take the donkeys’ perspective for a minute. I have no proof, of course, but I imagine the momma donkey saying, “Ride on, Ride on—and look at my little colt go, carrying Jesus like that!”—not that donkey’s talk. (except of course Balaam’s way back in the book of Numbers, but that’s another story for another time.) But I can imagine a bit of momma-donkey pride happening that first Palm Sunday.
The most obvious cheering section of the day, and the most biblical, is the pilgrim crowds with their “Hosanna’s” and “Blessed is hes.” We can also imagine them saying, “Ride on, Jesus, ride on!” But why do they cheer? Jesus enters Jerusalem in specific fulfillment of messianic prophecy from Zacharia 9: Zachariah prophecies a righteous king riding in humility to rule the world in peace. “Hosanna” means “Save us now”—a cry for liberation and victory. The palm branch was a nationalistic symbol meaning freedom from Roman oppression and unity for a new nation. The exuberant pilgrim’s cheers of “Ride on, Jesus, ride on!” are filled with the fervor of nationalism, liberation and new beginnings.
But amid all this, rather in the background, a more ominous, sinister “Ride on, Jesus, ride on” is heard from the religious leaders of Jerusalem—the scribes and pharisee of the ruling Sanhedrin. Already the mechanisms for murder have been engaged; already the traps are being set, and by the end of the week Jesus, will hang from the cross like a common criminal, his crown of bloody thorns, his hands and feet holding nails, his side pierced with a Roman spear.
What motivates the Jerusalem religious leaders’ dark, foreboding “Ride on, Jesus, ride on”? Why do they cheer? Perhaps from self-promotion; or self-preservation; or self-deception—“this really is for the best.” Or, maybe Jesus poses a threat to their positions of power.
But there’s another cheering section—a heavenly one. If you listen you carefully, quietly, you can also hear angelic voices from heaven cheering, “Ride On!”. As our closing hymn puts it, “The angel armies of the sky/ Look down with sad and wondering eyes/ To see the approaching sacrifice.” (LSB 441:3) With sad eyes they behold the son of God, this Holy One who they’ve spent an eternity praising. The angels must now restrict themselves, sheath their fiery swords, enclose their wings and witness his death. With wondering eyes, too, they see: how could this be? -- the glorious son of God, present from before eternity, through whom all creation was made, the Eternal Word made flesh now to be killed by the creation he came to save?
The donkeys’ owner from the village; momma donkey and kid; pilgrims with palms and psalms; plotting pharisees; angels in sadness and wonder all alike say “Ride on, ride on!” of the same Jesus, but all for very different reasons. And I suppose we could go on: the disciples: “Ride on, Jesus! so we can find out what this all really means.” Jesus’ mother, Mary, no doubt with amazement over the popularity of her son, but also with foreboding, too, for she remembers the dark prophecy “and a sword shall pierce your own soul, too.” (Luke 2:35) Or, even the Father in heaven, “upon his sapphire throne” watches the culmination of the divine plan of salvation for the whole world, “Ride on, my son, ride on.”
This morning it’s also your turn to cheer, “Ride on, Jesus, ride on!”. But joining our voices with those Palm-Sunday pilgrims, also comes with a word of warning, of caution. Why are you cheering? What motivates your shouts welcoming Jesus? There’s only one central player on today’s stage—it’s Jesus—but we all call out to him from a different vantage point.
The warning, the caution, is to not turn this Jesus into an instrument of your own agenda. He is not a political prop; nor the central theme in a mere human story; nor a magic wand to wave in order to get what you want, when you want it; nor the one who’ll enter into your life to make everything peaceful and prosperous; nor a tool to fix whatever problems you have; nor a weapon to use against your enemies.
Rather, this Jesus is the Lord of all creation, the savior of all mankind, and the heart-beat of God’s saving grace. He rides into Jerusalem for the purpose of dying for the sins of the world, rising in victory over death and the grave, and reigning to make one people of all nations through faith in his blood. If you’re not cheering “Ride on, Jesus, ride on” for this reason, it’s not the real Jesus you’re cheering for.
That’s the warning, the caution. Then there’s also comfort in our cheer, “Ride on, Jesus, ride on!” For centuries—from the very beginning—Christians have interpreted Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem on that first Palm Sunday, as an image of his entrance into our lives, our hearts, our homes, our church. Through faith, by the power of the Holy Spirit, we cheer him on, welcome him anew, recognize his redeeming presence come among us, and wave our palms branches in victory. Through his Holy Word, he bursts through the gates of our sinful hearts. In Holy Baptism, our lives are engrafted into his, so that his death is ours, and his resurrection, ours too. In the Holy Supper we’re given a freedom and a unity stretching beyond space and time—an entrance into the realms of the angels.
So, call out to him, this morning, too—the one on the donkey, who rides into your life. “Ride on, King Jesus, and knock down the barriers I’ve built before you. Ride on, King Jesus, and take my sin and shame away at Calvary. Ride on, King Jesus, and slam dunk on death. Ride on, King Jesus, and do a new thing in my life. Ride on, King Jesus, and make me your servant in this place. Ride on, King Jesus, and expunge all the things which I’ve let replace you in my life. Ride on, King Jesus, and prepare my place with you in eternity.”
Come soon, Lord Jesus. Amen.
