Sunday, March 29, 2026

Today's Worship Service - Palm Sunday, March 29, 2026

 

Worship Service for March 29, 2026

Prelude

Announcements:  

Call to Worship

L:      Our God helps us and stands here in our midst.

P:      We stand up together, united in prayer and praise.

L:      Our God is gracious, pouring out mercy and love.

P:      We put our trust in the Lord.

L:      God’s face shines upon us in this hour of worship and always.

P:      We find salvation in God’s steadfast love.  Alleluia!  Amen!

 

Opening Hymn –        Hosanna, Loud Hosanna          #89/297

Prayer of Confession

O God, we stand at the gate, hesitant and uncertain; we are reluctant to answer your invitation; we are slow to embark on the journey toward your reign.  Forgive us, we pray.  Grant us the help we need to be your people, the courage to join you in the procession, the selflessness to lay our cloaks before you, the freedom to lift our palms to your glory, and the knowledge that by your grace we are forgiven.  (Silent prayers are offered)  AMEN.

Assurance of Pardon

L:      Hear this Good News!  The procession is ever moving forward.  We can join at any moment.  The invitation still stands!  In the name of Jesus Christ, we are forgiven!

P:      We proclaim and resound with this Good News!  In the name of Jesus Christ, we are forgiven.  Glory be to God!  AMEN!

 

Gloria Patri

Affirmation of Faith/Apostles’ Creed

I believe in God the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth; And in Jesus Christ His only Son our Lord; who was conceived by the Holy Ghost, born of the Virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, dead, and buried; He descended into hell; the third day He rose again from the dead; He ascended into heaven, and sitteth on the right hand of God the Father Almighty; from thence He shall come to judge the quick and the dead.

I believe in the Holy Ghost, the holy catholic Church; the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins; the resurrection of the body; and the life everlasting.  AMEN

 

Pastoral Prayer and Lord’s Prayer

As we remember this day, the entry of Your Son into Jerusalem, O God, we join our voices with the multitudes who hailed his coming in conquering triumph.  On this day we see, prefigured before us, your Son’s glorious reign.  In the excitement of these events, we know in truth that at the name of Jesus, every knee should bow, and every tongue confess him as Lord.  How wondrous is your love for us, that Jesus empties himself, becoming a servant, becoming obedient to the point of death on the cross.  His life among us is a gift of your grace to sinful humanity.  We offer you all glory and praise, great God of all creation, for this inestimable blessing.

Trusting in your continuing care, we pray for the many and varied needs of your human children.  We remember all who suffer and all who face the final mystery of death, and we offer you our unspoken concerns. 

 

We especially pray for….

 

And in this personal time of prayer, hear our hearts O Lord.

 

We stand, now and ever, in need of your protection and under your mercy; through Jesus Christ the Lord, in whose name we pray saying… Our Father who art in heaven, Hallowed be Thy name.  Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.  Give us this day our daily bread.  Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors.  And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.  For Thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever.  AMEN.

 

Hymn –  Ride On!  Ride On in Majesty          Hymn # 91  Blue

Scripture Reading(s): 

First Scripture Reading – Psalm 31:9-16

Second Scripture Reading – Matthew 21:1-11

Sermon –  

“Who Is This King? — The Parade, the Donkey, and the Choice”

(based on Matthew 21:1–11)

There is something about a parade that stirs the soul.  It doesn’t matter if you’re young or old, whether you planned to be there or just stumbled into it—when a parade comes by, something inside of you wakes up.  Maybe it’s the music, the movement, the anticipation… it draws you in. It makes you wonder; what is happening here?  Who is worth all this celebration?

In 2022, I was in Spain as part of my Sabbatical.  One morning I walked out of the place I was staying and I saw people beginning to line the streets.  I heard music in the distance, but didn’t know what was going on.  Each passerby stopped for a moment to take a look down the street.  Although nothing was happening as far as we could see, some stayed to witness the anticipated event, some continued on, some walked more slowly, while others seemed to be asking the same question that was in my mind.  What is this?  What’s going on?

As the music built and got closer, troops of dancers dressed in colorful outfits began marching in front of us.  They danced to the beat of the music, each in time with one another.  And then a new musical group would come with another troop, dancing to a different rhythm.  Some people in the crowds joined in the dancing on the sidewalk, some took pictures, some waved and clapped.  I watched for a good 30 minutes as one group after another in more and more colorful garments marched and danced down the street.  And yet, my question remained unanswered.  As my Spanish is pretty terrible, I had no one to ask.  What is this?  What’s going on?  Perhaps that was how the crowd felt on that first Palm Sunday.  It was out of the ordinary for them.  It was different and unique.  Culturally, it was unexpected.

That question—what is this or who is this?—is exactly the question that echoes through Jerusalem on that first Palm Sunday.

Matthew tells us that as Jesus entered the city, “the whole city was stirred and asked, ‘Who is this?’”  And I think some still wonder about that and question that today.

Palm Sunday is, at its heart, a parade.  Crowds lining the streets.  Cloaks thrown down.  Branches waving.  Voices shouting:  “Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!”

It was loud.  It was public.  It was impossible to ignore.  And like any parade, it invited a response.  Some people jumped in.  Some stayed on the sidelines.  Some questioned.  Some celebrated.

Let’s be honest—this is not how kings are supposed to arrive.  No war horse.  No chariot.  No army.  Just… a donkey.  A borrowed donkey, no less.  It wasn’t even his own.  It’s almost absurd.  Because kings ride horses—symbols of power, conquest, dominance.  Instead Jesus chooses a donkey—a symbol of humility, servanthood, peace.  Who’s the most famous donkey you can think of?  Eyore, right?  Does he seem majestic?  Was he a symbol of power, conquest, dominance?  No, Eyore always had his head hung low – a symbol of humility.

And right there, in that moment, riding a donkey like Eyore, Jesus tells us everything we need to know about the kind of king he is.  He is not coming to conquer.  He is coming to serve.  He is not coming to take power.  He is coming to give his power, himself, away.

The crowds wanted a king who would overthrow Rome.  But Jesus came to overthrow something far deeper—fear, sin, violence, injustice, and death itself.  And still… they didn’t quite get it.

Because when the people of the city ask, “Who is this?” the answer others give is: “This is Jesus, the prophet from Nazareth in Galilee.”

Just a prophet.  Oh, just a prophet.  After all that.  After the healings, the teachings, the miracles…Still just a prophet.

And maybe that’s where the donkey helps us.  Afterall, this donkey isn’t Eyore.  This donkey is a young unseasoned colt.  And sometimes it takes a different perspective to see the truth.  So, this young donkey comes into town full of excitement, full of pride.  He walks into Jerusalem thinking the celebration is about him.  It’s his debut moment without mom, marching into town hearing all the cheers, the branches being thrown down at his feet.  He is loving all the attention!  Why?  Because he assumes it’s all about him.  Until the next day…

When the crowd is gone.  When no one notices him.  When no one cheers.  And in that moment of confusion and heartbreak, his mother speaks the truth: “Without Him, you are nothing.”  That’s a hard word.  But it’s a necessary one.  Because how often do we do the same thing?  We confuse the attention for affirmation.  We mistake the moment for meaning.  And we start to believe the story is about us.

But Palm Sunday reminds us—it’s not about us.  It never was.  We are not the center of the parade.  Christ is.  And that brings us to the real heart of this day.  Palm Sunday is not just a celebration.  It is a decision.  Because when the parade passes by, you have to choose.  Will you stand on the sidelines and watch?  Will you wave your palm branch, sing your song, and then go home unchanged?  Or will you step into the street and follow?

Because here’s the truth: It’s easy to shout “Hosanna.” It’s harder to follow to the cross.  It’s easy to celebrate when the crowd is cheering.  It’s harder to stay when the crowd turns.  It’s easy to be a spectator.  It’s harder to be a disciple.

There really is no such thing as a ‘spectator Christian.’  It’s not audience event.  Jesus isn’t looking for fans.  He’s looking for followers.

So, we come back to the question.  The question that echoes through Jerusalem.  The question that echoes through our own world today.  Who is this?  Was Jesus just a good teacher?  A wise prophet?  A moral example?  Or is Christ more?

Is he the one who challenges systems, lifts up the marginalized, calls out injustice?  Is he the one who turns the world upside down?  Is he the one who walks willingly toward suffering—not to glorify it, but to transform it?  Is he the one who shows us what love actually looks like?

Because if he is…Then we cannot remain unchanged.  If he is the Christ—the Son of the Living God—then this isn’t just a parade.  It’s a call.  A call to live differently.  A call to love differently.  A call to serve differently.  A call to truly follow.

Here’s the part that we cannot ignore.  The same crowd that shouts “Hosanna” on Sunday…will be the crowd that shouts “Crucify him” by Friday.  Even his own disciples will fall away, will go into hiding, and will deny even knowing him.  That’s how quickly things turn.  That’s how fragile shallow faith can be.

That’s what happens when we want a king who fits our expectations instead of one who transforms them.  Palm Sunday invites us to examine that.  Are we praising the Jesus we want…

Or following the Jesus who is?  Because the road he is on does not end in celebration.  It ends at a cross.

And if we follow him, it may lead us there too—not literally, but in the ways we are called to lay down our lives, our comfort, our assumptions, our control and live into something different.  To stand up for the lost, the lonely, the disenfranchised.  To speak up for those who have no voice.  To break the chains of idolatry, to disentangle our systems of oppression, and see in the face of others, the face of Christ.

So here we are.  The parade is passing by.  The palm branches are in our hands.  The songs are on our lips.  And the question is before us.  Will we just watch?  Or will we follow?  Will we be bystanders?  Or will we be disciples?

Will we treat this as a just a moment?  Or allow it to become a movement in our lives?

Because the truth is…This parade is not about noise.  It’s about transformation.  It’s not about cheering.  It’s about commitment.  It’s not about a day.  It’s about a way of life.

“When Jesus entered Jerusalem, the whole city was stirred and asked, ‘Who is this?’”  That question is still alive.  And how we answer it…Will shape everything.  So today, as the parade passes by, may we not miss it.  May we not mistake it.  May we not stand at a distance.  But may we step forward.

May we follow.

May we serve.

And may we finally, fully, faithfully answer:

This is not just a prophet.

This is the Christ.  The Son of the Living God.

And we will follow him.

Amen.

Offertory –

Doxology –

Prayer of Dedication –

Name above all names, as You emptied Yourself for others, we offer ourselves and these gifts as a sign of our hope in Your reign.  Where there is death, bring life.  Where there is sorrow, bring joy.  Where there is injustice, bring courage for change.  AMEN.

Closing Hymn – All Glory, Laud, and Honor         Hymn #300 Brown

Benediction

         Go into this week with the knowledge that resurrection will come, even when it seems like there is no tomorrow.  Be blessed and be a blessing, with the courage to stand with those in need.  In the name of the Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer.  AMEN.

Postlude

Today's Lenten Devotion - Palm Sunday, March 29, 2026

 Palm Sunday – March 29

Scripture: Luke 19:28–40

Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord.

Palms wave. Cloaks cover dusty roads. The crowd shouts hope into the air.

Yet this is not a warhorse procession. It is a donkey. Not domination, but humility. Not coercion, but peace.

The crowd longs for deliverance. Their expectations are political, immediate, forceful. Jesus offers something deeper—liberation that moves through suffering rather than around it.

Palm Sunday exposes how easily our hopes can misinterpret God’s ways. We want triumph without cross. Victory without surrender.

And still, Jesus enters.

He does not reject the crowd’s longing. He redirects it.

The humble king refuses violence yet confronts injustice. He will weep over Jerusalem even as he walks toward crucifixion.

Holy Week begins with praise and moves toward paradox.

We, too, must examine our expectations of Christ. Do we seek a savior who validates our agendas? Or one who reshapes them?

The road ahead leads through betrayal, silence, and cross. But today, we wave palms and dare to hope.

The kingdom comes—not by force, but by love.

Reflection Questions

1.     What kind of king do I expect Jesus to be?

2.     Where might my hopes need reshaping?

3.     How can I follow Christ’s humble way this week?

Saturday, March 28, 2026

Today's Lenten Devotion - Saturday, March 28, 2026

 Saturday – March 28

Scripture: Hebrews 12:1–3

“Let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us.”

Faith is not solitary. We are surrounded by a “great cloud of witnesses.” Generations who endured exile, doubt, persecution, and uncertainty. They trusted promises they did not fully see.

We, too, grow weary. Institutions shift. Cultural tides turn. Justice moves slower than we wish. The temptation to fatigue is real.

So the writer of Hebrews directs our gaze: “Looking to Jesus.”

Christ endured the cross “for the joy set before him.” Joy did not erase suffering. It sustained endurance through it.

Perseverance is not stubbornness. It is hope with stamina.

Lent strengthens endurance by fixing our attention beyond immediate results. We do not labor for applause. We labor for faithfulness. We forgive again. We serve again. We speak truth again. Not because change is instant, but because resurrection is certain.

The witnesses remind us: faith outlives fear.

We are part of a larger story. Our courage today becomes someone else’s cloud tomorrow.

Run—not frantically, but faithfully.

Reflection Questions

1.     Who has modeled perseverance for me?

2.     Where am I tempted to give up?

3.     How does resurrection strengthen endurance?

Friday, March 27, 2026

Today's Lenten Devotion - Friday, March 27, 2026

 Friday – March 27

Scripture: Psalm 130

“Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord.”

This is not polite prayer. It is prayer from the bottom. From places where answers feel delayed and clarity distant.

The psalmist does not disguise despair. Faith does not forbid honesty. It welcomes it. “Out of the depths” is sacred language.

We know these depths. Personal grief. Lingering injustice. Fractured relationships. Institutional fatigue. Waiting for change that seems slow in coming.

“I wait for the Lord, my soul waits.” Waiting is not passive resignation. It is active trust stretched across uncertainty. It is choosing not to abandon hope even when evidence feels thin.

More than watchmen wait for morning.

Watchmen do not doubt that morning will come. They simply endure the darkness until it does.

With the Lord there is steadfast love. Not occasional love. Not conditional love. Steadfast love.

Lent refuses to rush us from sorrow to celebration. We linger long enough to feel longing. We acknowledge what is unfinished. We name what aches.

But we do not surrender to despair.

Morning comes. Perhaps slowly. Perhaps quietly. But surely.

Hope is not denial of the night. It is confidence in dawn.

Reflection Questions

1.     What depths am I navigating right now?

2.     How can I wait without surrendering hope?

3.     Where do I glimpse signs of morning?

Thursday, March 26, 2026

Today's Lenten Devotion - Thursday, March 26

 Thursday – March 26

Scripture: Isaiah 53

“He was despised and rejected… a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief.”

Isaiah’s servant unsettles our expectations. We often imagine redemption clothed in triumph. Instead, Scripture gives us vulnerability. Woundedness. Rejection.

The servant bears grief and carries sorrow—not his own alone, but ours. He absorbs violence without returning it. He stands within injustice rather than above it. This is not weakness. It is strength disciplined by love.

As Holy Week approaches, we see more clearly: God does not save from a distance. God enters suffering. The cross exposes systems that crush the innocent. It reveals how quickly crowds shift and power consolidates. It unmasks our own complicity.

And yet, within that exposure, there is mercy. “By his wounds we are healed.”

For a church committed to justice, this matters deeply. We confront injustice not from superiority but from solidarity. We resist harm without becoming harmful. We speak truth without losing tenderness.

Sacrificial love is costly. It risks misunderstanding. It refuses vengeance. It trusts that faithfulness matters more than vindication.

The suffering servant invites us to reimagine strength. True power does not crush opponents; it transforms them. True courage absorbs pain without surrendering compassion.

As Lent deepens, we stand closer to the cross. We see not only Christ’s suffering, but the suffering of the world reflected in him.

God’s answer to violence is not greater violence. It is self-giving love.

Reflection Questions

1.     Where do I see suffering ignored or minimized?

2.     How does Christ’s vulnerability reshape my understanding of strength?

3.     What might redemptive love require of me?

Wednesday, March 25, 2026

Today's Lenten Devotion - Wednesday, March 25, 2026

 Wednesday – March 25

Scripture: Jeremiah 31:31–34

“I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts.”

Through Jeremiah, God promises something deeper than reform. Not stricter enforcement. Not louder instruction. A covenant written on the heart.

Religion easily becomes external compliance—beliefs recited, rituals observed, identities claimed. But God longs for something interior. A transformation that reshapes instinct, desire, and reflex. When the law is written on the heart, justice is no longer obligation; it becomes inclination. Mercy is no longer strategy; it becomes character.

Lent presses inward. It asks whether our faith lives primarily in public language or private reality. Do compassion and humility arise naturally, or only when convenient? Does forgiveness flow, or do we ration it carefully?

The promise of the new covenant is intimacy: “They shall all know me.” Not merely know about God, but know God. Relationship replaces transaction. Grace replaces fear.

This is not self-improvement. It is Spirit-formed renewal. God does the writing. Our role is receptivity.

When faith moves from stone tablets to living hearts, the Church changes. Conversations soften. Justice deepens. Welcome widens. We begin to resemble Christ not only in confession but in instinct.

Perhaps the question for today is simple: What is shaping my heart most deeply? Media? Anxiety? Resentment? Or the quiet, steady work of God?

The cross will soon reveal how far divine love is willing to go to write this covenant upon us.

Reflection Questions

1.     Is my faith primarily internal or external?

2.     What daily habits shape my heart?

3.     How might I become more receptive to God’s transforming work?

Tuesday, March 24, 2026

Today's Lenten Devotion - Tuesday, March 24, 2026

 Tuesday – March 24

Scripture: Mark 10:42–45

“Whoever wishes to be great among you must be your servant.”

Jesus gathers his disciples and dismantles their assumptions about power. They have been arguing about status—who sits where, who ranks highest, who matters most. It is an old argument. It still echoes in boardrooms, pulpits, politics, and even quiet corners of the human heart.

Greatness kneels.

The rulers of the Gentiles “lord it over” others, Jesus says. Domination defines their authority. But “it is not so among you.” In Christ’s kingdom, influence is measured not by control but by service. The Son of Man came not to be served but to serve—and to give his life as a ransom for many.

Servant leadership is not passive. It is active love directed toward the flourishing of others. It asks not, “How can I secure my place?” but “How can I lift another?” It is courageous enough to step aside, strong enough to absorb misunderstanding, humble enough to share credit.

For the Church, this is a continual examination. Do we seek cultural influence to protect ourselves, or to serve the vulnerable? Do we cling to authority, or do we steward it gently? Titles do not confer greatness. Love does.

Lent reshapes ambition. It loosens the craving for recognition and replaces it with holy attentiveness. Where can I kneel today? Where can I listen before speaking? Where can I empower rather than dominate?

Resurrection will come, but it will come through a cross. The path to life winds through humility.

Greatness in God’s kingdom always smells faintly of dust and basin water.

Reflection Questions

1.     Where do I quietly seek recognition?

2.     How can I practice leadership through service this week?

3.     What does Christlike greatness look like in my daily life?