Introduction
Luke’s account of Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem may feel familiar in broad strokes, but it has its own (very different) theological accents and narrative flavor. Unlike the versions in Matthew, Mark, and John, Luke’s “Palm Sunday” contains no palms, no “Hosannas,” and no direct invocation of “the kingdom.” Instead, Luke invites us into a more subversive kind of procession. One that is rooted in discipleship, prophetic witness, and a kingdom not of this world.
No Palms, No Hosannas—Just Cloaks and Cries
Immediately there are differences in this Gospel version. There’s no palm-waving crowd, no children shouting “Hosanna to the Son of David,” and no loud proclamation of “the kingdom of our ancestor David” (as in Mark). Instead, Luke shows people laying down cloaks. A gesture of honor that echoes coronation symbolism from 2 Kings 9:13 but without the militaristic overtones that lead to revolution.
The absence of this martial imagery shifts the emphasis. Luke isn’t interested in Jesus as a political or military deliverer in the traditional sense. Instead, the crowd praises God for “all the deeds of power they had seen” (v. 37), a clear reference back to Jesus’ healing, restoring, and liberating ministry throughout Galilee and beyond. The king they’re cheering for is a healer, not a warrior.
Peace in Heaven, Glory in the Highest
Luke’s version also uniquely includes the line: “Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest heaven!” (v. 38). This is the only Gospel to frame the crowd’s praise in this way. It’s an echo of the angels’ song at Jesus’ birth in Luke 2:14: “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace…”
There, peace was declared on earth with the Messiah’s arrival. Here, it is now proclaimed in heaven as Jesus enters Jerusalem. These two proclamations (birth and entry) bookend Jesus’ life and ministry. Peace is both the announcement of Jesus’ arrival and the culmination of his mission. Luke’s Jesus is the bringer of heaven’s peace, not through violence or power, but through vulnerability, inclusion, healing, service, and love.
The Pharisees and the Stones
Another uniquely Lukan moment is when some Pharisees call for Jesus to silence the disciples, Jesus replies, “I tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout out.” (v. 40)
Luke does not include the cleansing of the temple immediately following the procession (that happens a bit later in v. 45). So this scene, rather than being an opening act to a dramatic confrontation, becomes a theological declaration. The movement of Jesus into Jerusalem isn’t just a flash mob or political stunt. It’s cosmic in scale. If the disciples fell silent, creation itself would erupt in praise. And this is not just metaphor. Luke has been preparing us for a world turned upside down (cf. Luke 1:52-53), for a kingdom where the lowly are lifted and the proud brought low. Here, even the stones are poised to proclaim the truth that religious authorities want to suppress.
No Messianic Secret, But Still a Subtle King
In Luke, Jesus is far less secretive about his identity than in Mark, but this doesn’t mean he leans into flashy shows of power. His instructions to the disciples about the colt (“The Lord needs it”) are deliberate but almost cryptic. It’s not about acquiring royal transport. It’s about fulfilling prophecy in an understated way (Zechariah 9:9 echoes in the background, though Luke doesn’t quote it explicitly). In a world that expects kings to ride warhorses and demand fealty, Jesus enters on a borrowed colt, in a display that is both humble and yet still undeniably royal. This tension (power through humility, kingship through compassion) is the subversive claim of Luke’s gospel.
Preaching Possibilities
Palm Sunday Without Palms
If your congregation expects waving palms and triumphant “Hosannas,” Luke might be a good corrective this year. His version slows us down and asks us to notice who we are cheering and why. Not for conquering strength or political might, but for healing hands, stories that restore, and love that refuses to stay silent.
The Stones Are Watching
Jesus’ statement about the stones offers a poetic and prophetic entry point into creation care, justice, and prophetic witness. If we remain silent about the truth of who Christ is, or about the injustice we witness, creation itself will not abide our silence. The stones know what’s at stake.
The Cost of Public Praise
In Luke, it’s the disciples, not the wider crowd, who praise Jesus as king. The “whole multitude of disciples” lift their voices, even as religious leaders try to shut them down. Preachers might invite congregations to consider: What does it mean to be part of that multitude today? In a polarized, post-truth culture, public praise can be a bold act.
Peace in Heaven, and on Earth?
Jesus is greeted with a heavenly proclamation of peace, but he weeps over the city just a few verses later (v. 41). This juxtaposition (peace declared, but not yet received) mirrors the tension of our own age. Palm Sunday in Luke reminds us that God’s peace often looks different than the world’s peace. It’s not about comfort, but about justice. It’s not about control, but about vulnerability.
Micah Krey 
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