Introduction
Are you following Jesus for who He truly is, or for what you hope He will do for you? Jesus receives the praise of Palm Sunday to reveal Himself as the promised King, so that I learn to worship Him with surrendered expectations, trusting His sovereign plan and embracing His humble way to save. In our rhythms, we often give a long runway to Christmas, and then we arrive quickly at Easter. But the Gospels slow down dramatically in the final week of Jesus’ life. Mark is action-packed, “immediately,” constant movement, yet from Palm Sunday on, everything decelerates because God wants us to pay special attention. Nearly three-fifths of Mark’s Gospel focuses on this last week. So I want to slow down with Scripture, because the Word slows down here. Palm Sunday begins with worship, “Hosanna… Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord” (Psalm 118). We’ve sung those words, and that matters: they are not generic praise lyrics. They are loaded with messianic expectation. And what happens next will challenge what we think “Hosanna” should mean.
Main Points
Are you following Jesus for who He truly is, or for what you hope He will do for you? Jesus receives the praise of Palm Sunday to reveal Himself as the promised King, so that I learn to worship Him with surrendered expectations, trusting His sovereign plan and embracing His humble way to save.
In our rhythms, we often give a long runway to Christmas, and then we arrive quickly at Easter. But the Gospels slow down dramatically in the final week of Jesus’ life. Mark is action-packed, “immediately,” constant movement, yet from Palm Sunday on, everything decelerates because God wants us to pay special attention. Nearly three-fifths of Mark’s Gospel focuses on this last week. So I want to slow down with Scripture, because the Word slows down here.
Palm Sunday begins with worship, “Hosanna… Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord” (Psalm 118). We’ve sung those words, and that matters: they are not generic praise lyrics. They are loaded with messianic expectation. And what happens next will challenge what we think “Hosanna” should mean.
The King Intentionally Unveils Himself
Mark places Palm Sunday right after a key moment: as Jesus leaves Jericho, blind Bartimaeus cries out, “Son of David, have mercy on me” (Mark 10:47). That title, “Son of David”, had been part of what many call the “messianic secret.” Again and again, Jesus had told people to be quiet about His identity. But now, as He nears Jerusalem for Passover, He allows public messianic praise.
This is not accidental. Jesus is marching toward Jerusalem to fulfill the mission He has repeatedly predicted: suffering, death, and resurrection (implied throughout Mark’s passion predictions). Palm Sunday is the opening scene of that final week, the moment when Jesus lets the secret out, knowing it will set into motion the events that lead to the cross.
So I learn something important: following Jesus means letting Him define the timing and the terms of revelation and obedience. He is not reacting. He is leading.
Sovereign Control Over Every Detail
When Jesus crests the Mount of Olives and looks toward Jerusalem, He sends two disciples on a strangely specific mission:
- “You will find a colt tied, on which no one has sat… untie it and bring it.”
- “If anyone says, ‘Why are you doing this?’ say, ‘The Lord has need of it.’” (Mark 11:2–3)
This isn’t permission to “borrow” whatever we want in Jesus’ name. This is a unique, sovereign moment: Jesus knows what will be there, what will be said, and what will happen next. And it unfolds exactly as He said (Mark 11:4–6).
Mark wants me to feel the security of this: Jesus is not on plan B. God is not improvising redemption based on human unpredictability. The King is in control, of the colt, the village, the crowds, the temple, the betrayal to come, and even the resurrection on the third day (as Jesus foretold).
If Jesus can raise the dead, He can handle the details of my life. Palm Sunday trains my heart to trust His sovereignty even when I don’t understand His methods.
Humble Kingship That Redefines Greatness
The colt is not a random travel choice. It is a deliberate fulfillment of prophecy:
“Behold, your King is coming to you… humble and mounted on a donkey” (Zechariah 9:9).
Jesus has walked everywhere in Mark’s Gospel. Now, for the first time, He rides, because He is consciously presenting Himself as the promised Shepherd-King, yet doing so with unmistakable humility. No war horse. No chariot. No display of worldly power. Just a borrowed colt and a ragtag band of followers.
And that connects to what Jesus taught just before this: greatness in His kingdom looks like servanthood (Mark 10:43–45). I need to see this: questions of “who is greatest” always show up around thrones. Jesus answers those questions not with force, but with lowliness.
This also confronts me with a choice. Everyone has a king. If Jesus is not my King, something else will be, success, self, identity, pleasure, wealth, political power. The crowd later will cry, “We have no king but Caesar” (John 19:15). That wasn’t merely their temptation; it’s ours too. Palm Sunday calls me to lay down my cloaks and declare: my King is the humble King.
Worship That Carries Expectations
The crowd spreads cloaks like a royal carpet, cuts leafy branches, and cries out:
“Hosanna! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the coming kingdom of our father David! Hosanna in the highest!” (Mark 11:8–10; Psalm 118 echoed)
“Hosanna” means “save us.” At Passover, that plea is especially charged: Israel remembers salvation from Pharaoh and longs for a new salvation from Rome. So their praise is real, but it is also filled with assumptions about what salvation should look like: political deliverance, national restoration, immediate triumph.
Let me disciple you gently here: worship often comes with expectations attached. I can come to Jesus with a list under the word “Hosanna”, save me from stress, from conflict, from cultural turmoil, from disappointment, from fear. And I may unconsciously assume that if I praise Him, He will act according to my preferred definition of rescue.
Palm Sunday exposes that temptation without mocking it. The cry “Hosanna” is not wrong, but my understanding of what I need saving from may be far too small.
The Shock: Jesus Enters, Observes, Withdraws
Then Mark gives us a jarring verse:
“Jesus entered Jerusalem and went into the temple. And when He had looked around at everything, as it was already late, He went out to Bethany with the twelve.” (Mark 11:11)
If this were the “Return of the King” in the way people expected, this is where the throne gets taken, the enemies are crushed, the victory speech is delivered. Instead, Jesus walks into the temple, looks around, and leaves because it’s late.
Mark is the only Gospel that highlights this pause, this night of rest before the temple cleansing that follows. Why include it? Because it confronts our expectations head-on. The crowd wants immediate visible deliverance; Jesus begins His final-week work with quiet authority, deliberate pacing, and a focus that is deeper than politics.
He is still King. But His mission is different than what the people demanded.
Discipleship Through Open Hands and Obedience
Don’t miss this thread: Jesus repeatedly involves people in His mission.
- Two disciples are sent on an odd task, and they obey.
- An owner releases the colt when told, “The Lord has need of it.”
- The disciples give their cloaks to make a seat.
- The crowd gives cloaks and branches to honor Him.
This is how Jesus still works: He could accomplish His purposes without my help, yet He dignifies disciples by letting our obedience and generosity participate in His story. Sometimes the obedience will feel peculiar. Sometimes it will cost me something small (a cloak, a convenience) that represents something much bigger (surrender, trust, availability).
So here is a practical question I want you to answer before God: when the Lord has need of something in your life, time, resources, plans, reputation, do you open your hands, or do you tighten your grip?
Conclusion
Palm Sunday invites me to praise Jesus not merely as the King I want, but as the King He truly is: sovereign over every detail, humble in His approach, and unwavering in His mission. The crowd cried “Hosanna” expecting one kind of salvation, but Jesus came to accomplish a deeper rescue than they imagined.
As we walk through the passion week, I want you to worship with surrendered expectations. Raise your hands like palm branches, lay down your cloak of control, and trust the King who is never surprised, never rushed, and never mistaken about what salvation requires.
Lord Jesus, You are the promised King who came in humility and yet reigns in complete authority. Forgive me for the times I have praised You while demanding that You meet my expectations. Teach me to trust Your sovereignty, especially when Your timing and methods confuse me. Make my hands open to obey, to give, and to follow, even when You ask me to do something that feels small, odd, or costly. Receive my worship, not as a bargain for outcomes, but as surrender to Your kingship. Hosanna, save me as You know I truly need saving. Amen.
Conclusion
Palm Sunday invites me to praise Jesus not merely as the King I want, but as the King He truly is: sovereign over every detail, humble in His approach, and unwavering in His mission. The crowd cried “Hosanna” expecting one kind of salvation, but Jesus came to accomplish a deeper rescue than they imagined.
As we walk through the passion week, I want you to worship with surrendered expectations. Raise your hands like palm branches, lay down your cloak of control, and trust the King who is never surprised, never rushed, and never mistaken about what salvation requires.
Closing Prayer
Lord Jesus, You are the promised King who came in humility and yet reigns in complete authority. Forgive me for the times I have praised You while demanding that You meet my expectations. Teach me to trust Your sovereignty, especially when Your timing and methods confuse me. Make my hands open to obey, to give, and to follow, even when You ask me to do something that feels small, odd, or costly. Receive my worship, not as a bargain for outcomes, but as surrender to Your kingship. Hosanna, save me as You know I truly need saving. Amen.