Getting ready for the Parade!

Our great-niece is looking forward to a parade in May. She’s one of ten high school seniors who’s hoping to be “queen” of our local festival, which celebrates spring’s fruit blossoms. The honor comes with a generous scholarship and a grueling public relations schedule. Our “blossom” celebration covers two weeks with parades, carnivals, food and craft fairs, pancake feeds and (for the athletic, or those who ate too many pancakes), a run down the parade route to the river. It’s a big deal in our valley.

Some of my earliest memories are of parades—in my case, the Rose Parade in Pasadena when I was a little girl. My family lived in the then-blue-collar community of South Gate, far enough away that "going to the parade" meant a long drive early New Year's morning through heavy traffic. One of my dad’s co-workers put up a viewing stand on the parade route. I suppose we had to pay for sitting there, but that was the least of my little girl's concerns. I got to see Roy Rogers and Dale Evans, and maybe the Lone Ranger, on their famous horses with lots of silver ornaments! Of course, bands and floats also passed by until I was so tired from overload that I fell asleep on the way home. I read somewhere that today's Rose Parade floats altogether use 40 million flowers. It’s hard to imagine.

In antiquity, huge parades heralded military victories. In early Roman times, the conqueror came into the city under a great arch in this order: local political leaders, trumpet players, carts with the spoils of war, white bulls for sacrifice (to the pagan “god”), the arms and insignia of the conquered enemy, the enemy leaders and families, the conqueror’s weapons, the conqueror in a horse-drawn chariot, his adult sons and officers, and finally his army. Curiously, the conqueror’s face was painted red. Sometimes a slave held a golden wreath above his head.

These customs were on Paul’s mind when he scolded the Corinthian church about spiritual pride: “It seems to me that God has put us apostles on display at the end of the procession, like men condemned to die in the arena” (1 Cor. 4:9). These carnal, boasting believers thought they had it all and weren’t respecting Paul and other spiritual leaders.

My most favorite parade is yet to be. Revelation 5 describes angels beyond numbers encircling the throne of Heaven, praising Jesus: “Worthy is the Lamb, who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and strength and honor and glory and praise” (5:11-12). The enemy and his entourage won’t be in this parade. Satan and his followers will be long-gone, forever excluded from Heaven. To me—that’s a big deal—the really big deal!

Rose parade? It’s okay. But I’m counting more on seeing (or marching in) the “He-arose Parade”!