A dear couple from our congregation had invited me to attend and witness the adoption of their two precious boys. They had been working with these boys for over a year, meeting with social workers and the birth parents. They had been screened and trained and were now ready to sign the papers and take on the responsibility of parenthood for these beautiful souls.

But, like usual, I was running late. By the time I got to the courthouse, the doors were locked, and there was a sign that read: “Court proceedings in progress. Remain quiet. Do not enter.”

The adoption ceremony only took a few minutes, and I missed it. This moment was pregnant with meaning, and I was on the outside.

Something similar can happen to us all this time of year. There is an event, some might call it a ceremony, where our job is just to show up. But often we miss the moment, or if we are present, we miss its significance.

What am I talking about?

Palm Sunday.

It’s an event that takes up less than half a page in my Bible.

Jesus’s biographer Mark gives us bullet points of the occasion (Mark 11:1-11):

• Jesus tells his disciples to find a donkey for him.
• Jesus rides into Jerusalem on the donkey.
• The people bow down and worship him.

And then he moves on.

It all happens so quickly that we might fail to see what God is up to.

This short post cannot explain everything that’s happening as Jesus rides into the Holy City of Jerusalem. But permit me to whet your appetite.

For centuries, God’s people had been waiting—for a King who would finally set things right. A King who wouldn’t just defeat their enemies but fix what was broken inside them.

It all sounded too good to be true, but that’s exactly what God’s spokesmen had been promising for generations.

So the day finally came when this promised leader marched into Jerusalem. His chosen vehicle was not comparable to a presidential motorcade. The donkey he rode was more like traveling in a Ford Pinto, and that was on purpose. He wanted to mount a lowly animal so he would be on the level of the people. So close they could even touch him.

Some seemed to understand, at least in part, what Jesus was up to, because they began praising and shouting in the words of the Psalms, “Hosanna!” which means, “Lord, save us!”

They laid down their clothes before him, rolling out the red carpet. They fanned him with palm branches as if he were a Warrior-King, worthy of all their worship.

They did what they could with what they understood. But many of them could not grasp the full significance of this event.

But we can.

We have the luxury of seeing the whole story of Jesus unfold. We can see that this short trip down the mount and into the walls of Jerusalem was leading to much more meaningful events, the cross and the empty tomb, where Jesus would bring both justice and righteousness not only to a nation but to all people of all time.

That’s why we show up for Palm Sunday. Although it is an event that lasts a few minutes, we want to witness what he is doing for us. He’s not asking for our help or our participation. He wants us to be there, to experience its lasting value.

Sometimes our only job is to show up.