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(4/24) We’re in a message series called "The Road to Easter," and today we’re focusing on Palm Sunday. When we look at Scripture, we see a time when people didn’t call it Palm Sunday. It wasn’t a holiday yet, and they didn’t celebrate it every year like we do today. In fact, it took centuries after Jesus rose from the dead for the church to recognize it as a sacred day.

For the Jewish people at that time, this moment had deep meaning. They saw it as the fulfillment of Scripture and a sign that the Messiah had finally come. To them, it meant their king was here to save them and defeat their oppressors. But not everyone saw it the same way. The disciples, Roman soldiers, and religious leaders all viewed it differently. This reminds us that people can witness the same event but interpret it in completely different ways.

Even in the excitement of that moment, some of the disciples celebrated joyfully, while others felt uneasy because they understood the deeper significance of what was happening. Everyone saw the same event, but each person brought their own perspective. Those who walk closely with a leader often understand things that others don’t.

As humans, we long for clarity. We want answers and direction. We want to understand God’s plan for our lives. But walking with God means trusting Him, even when we don’t know where He’s leading us. That’s why faith is so important—it gives us strength, even when uncertainty tries to overwhelm us.

Now let’s turn to the Word of God and read from the Gospels. This passage is very familiar, especially during this time of year when we reflect on the Passion of Jesus. Even if you’ve heard this story many times, God’s Word always reveals something new. As the prophet Isaiah said:

"The grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of our God stands forever" (Isaiah 40:8, NIV).

When Jesus and His disciples approached Jerusalem, He gave specific instructions to two of them:

"Go to the village ahead of you, and at once you will find a donkey tied there, with her colt by her. Untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, tell him that the Lord needs them, and he will send them right away" (Matthew 21:1–3, NIV).

This wasn’t random. It was a prophecy coming to life—God’s Word being fulfilled. Matthew explains it like this:

"Say to the Daughter of Zion, 'See, your king comes to you, gentle and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey'" (Matthew 21:4–5, NIV).

The disciples did exactly as Jesus asked:

"They brought the donkey and the colt, placed their cloaks on them, and Jesus sat on them" (Matthew 21:6–7, NIV).

Before Jesus even entered Jerusalem, a crowd gathered around Him. The Bible describes what happened:

"When he came near the place where the road goes down the Mount of Olives, the whole crowd of disciples began joyfully to praise God in loud voices for all the miracles they had seen: 'Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!' Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to Jesus, 'Teacher, rebuke your disciples!' 'I tell you,' he replied, 'if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out'" (Luke 19:37–40, NIV).

The people couldn’t stay silent, and Jesus didn’t stop them. Their praise was essential—it was the perfect moment to declare who He was. Jesus entered Jerusalem, not with weapons or riding a powerful stallion, but humbly on a donkey. The crowd celebrated Him openly, laying palm branches on the road and shouting, "Hosanna!" They remembered His miracles, recognized Him as the Son of David, and declared Him to be the Messiah.

It was a time of worship and celebration, and Jesus welcomed their praise—the hosannas, the palm branches, and the cloaks placed on the road. This was a moment when the world needed to honor Him publicly. It was prophetic, a divine fulfillment. Jesus made it clear that silence wasn’t an option. When the Pharisees tried to quiet the crowd, He responded, "If they remain quiet, the stones will cry out."

There were times before when Jesus told people to stay silent and keep things to themselves. But not this time. Now, His hour had come. At this moment, praise wasn’t just encouraged—it was necessary. Worship filled the air, and even the stones were ready to respond.

But that was in Luke chapter 19. Now let’s fast forward to Matthew chapter 27, just a few days later. Everything had changed. The same crowd that had shouted, "Hosanna!" was now crying out, "Crucify Him!"

Let’s turn to Matthew chapter 27, verse 11. The Lord Jesus Christ—the one who said the rocks would cry out—now stands silent. The King who welcomed praise is now the Lamb standing quietly before His accusers. This shift reveals a profound truth—a lesson I call The Silence of the Lamb.

Now, Jesus is in a completely different atmosphere. He’s no longer surrounded by friends; this is a new setting. Everything has changed. The Bible says:

"Jesus stood before the governor, and the governor asked him, 'Are you the king of the Jews?' 'You have said so,' Jesus replied. When he was accused by the chief priests and the elders, he gave no answer. Then Pilate asked him, 'Don’t you hear the testimony they are bringing against you?' But Jesus made no reply, not even to a single charge—to the great amazement of the governor" (Matthew 27:11–14, NIV).

The One who said the rocks would cry out is now silent. The King who welcomed praise is now the Lamb, quietly standing before His accusers. But Jesus’ silence wasn’t weakness—it was wisdom. It wasn’t surrender—it was strategy.

Jesus wasn’t silent because He lacked power. He was silent because He understood His mission. He wasn’t there to argue or defend Himself—He was there to fulfill His Father’s plan.

Jesus’ silence reveals an important truth: when the living Word speaks, dead traditions feel threatened. During this Holy Week, Jesus demonstrates both continuity and contrast—praise and silence, celebration and suffering, blessing and curses, Hosanna and Calvary.

There is a time to shout and a time to be still or as it says in Ecclesiastes:

"There is a time for everything and a season for every activity under the heavens… a time to be silent and a time to speak" (Ecclesiastes 3:1, 7, NIV).

There is a time to declare who you are and a time to hold back for a greater purpose. Jesus wasn’t silent because He had no answer—He was silent because the answer had already been given.

Jesus had already spoken. He had wept for the city, cleansed the temple, taught, healed, and prophesied over Jerusalem. And so, His silence now wasn’t a sign of defeat—it was part of His plan. The Lamb doesn’t argue with the butcher. His silence was His strength. Because once you’ve said what needs to be said, there comes a time to simply live it out.

When the religious leaders tried to silence the crowd shouting "Hosanna," Jesus responded by saying that if the people stayed silent, the rocks would cry out. We learn in Luke chapter 19 that silence can be a form of rebellion and disobedience. And so, when it’s time to worship, don’t hold back. Shout, cry out, and praise Him with all your heart. Don’t let the rocks take your place.

But in Matthew chapter 27, we see another side of silence. When Jesus stood accused, He didn’t need the rocks to cry out. He didn’t need to defend Himself. His actions were about to speak louder than words ever could.

In chapter 27, the Lamb stood before the slaughter, and heaven responded with silence.

Jesus teaches us that silence can also show faith and obedience. When faced with false accusations and incredible pressure, Jesus showed humility, strength, and perfect timing. He knew the cross was near. He understood His purpose. And He knew that sometimes silence accomplishes what shouting cannot.

On this Palm Sunday, I want to take you on a journey—from Hosanna to the cross, from blessings to curses, from praise to pain, from Luke chapter 19 to Matthew chapter 27. Each of these moments reveals who Jesus truly is. If we are going to follow Him, we must walk with Him—not only in the joyful celebration of shouting Hosanna, but also in the quiet sacrifice of surrender.

This is what Jesus teaches us through the silence of the Lamb: there is a time for praise, and there is a time for silence. Jesus wasn’t silent because He lacked praise—He was silent because He was fulfilling prophecy. He wasn’t silent because He was defeated—He was silent because He was determined.

Now, picture this: Pilate, the Roman governor, questioning the Son of God. Pilate, who answers to Caesar, interrogates Jesus—the very One before whom Caesar himself will one day bow. Pilate, with all his arrogance, tries to cross-examine Jesus, who created the universe and who spoke all things into existence from nothing. But Jesus didn’t break under their accusations, nor did he tremble beneath their abuse. He stood firm, remained silent, and overpowered every scheme of the enemy that came against him.

In Luke, we see Jesus receiving the crowd’s praise, while in Matthew, he silently accepted their accusations. Throughout it all—accusations and abuse—Jesus was preparing for the cross, and he was always in complete control. That’s why he didn’t argue or try to defend himself. He didn’t need to explain who he was; he didn’t have to stand up and say, "Hold on, wait a minute."

"I am the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End" (Revelation 22:13, NIV).

Instead, He stood silent—calm and composed. Because when you know who you are, you don’t need to explain yourself to those who don’t understand.

This is the power of spiritual maturity: knowing that not every battle needs to be fought. Some battles are won through silence. You don’t overcome by shouting or reacting in anger; you overcome by standing firm in who you are. And so, the Bible says,

"Jesus made no reply, not even to a single charge, to the great amazement of the governor" (Matthew 27:14, NIV).

Pilate was left amazed—not by what Jesus said, but by what He didn’t say. The silence of the Lamb spoke louder than any defense He could have given.

At that moment, Pilate was questioning the One who holds the heavens in place. Pilate put the King of Kings and Lord of Lords on trial—the One Isaiah called:

"Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, and Prince of Peace" (Isaiah 9:6, NIV).

Pilate spoke to Jesus as if he were just a man, as if he could decide his fate, the created one questioning his creator, and yet Jesus stood silent.

He gave no defense. No explanation. No argument. Just silence.

This was the moment the prophet Isaiah foretold saying:

"He was oppressed and afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth; he was led like a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before its shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth" (Isaiah 53:7, NIV).

This kind of silence is hard for us to grasp. In our world, when someone attacks us, we speak out. When we’re misunderstood, we explain ourselves. When we’re accused, we fight back. But Jesus stayed silent—not because He was weak, but because He understood what the enemy was really trying to accomplish.

You see, this wasn’t about protecting his reputation or even his life. Jesus' greatest enemy, Satan, wanted him to speak, to fight, to resist, and to step outside of God’s will. But Jesus recognized that this battle wasn’t about Pilate; it wasn’t a struggle against flesh and blood, but rather against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. This battle was about completing his mission; it was about saving you and me.

When he was praying in the garden before his arrest, he said, "May this cup be taken from me" (Matthew 26:39, NIV); he spoke in his humanity. But when he stood silent before Pilate, he did so in his divinity as the Son of God, and he wasn’t about to lower himself to waste words on someone who didn’t have the power to save the world. In other words, if Jesus was going to speak, it wouldn’t be to Pilate, but he would speak to the Father above because he alone gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak (Isaiah 40:29).

Jesus chose to remain silent because sometimes silence speaks louder than any words ever could. He remained silent—not because He lacked power, but because He was fully submitted to the will of His Father. This is the silence of the Lamb. Jesus knew silence was part of the strategy, and His journey to the cross was part of the plan.

Today, I want to ask you: How do you fight your battles?

Do you fight as the Lion of the Tribe of Judah, or do you stand silently as the Lamb of God?

You see, Jesus demonstrated the perfect balance of both. And if His Spirit lives in you, there is a Lion within you—but there is also a Lamb. True wisdom lies in knowing which one to bring into the battle. There will be times when you need to roar, stand firm, and speak boldly. But there will also be moments—divine moments—when your assignment requires the Lamb. The challenge is learning to recognize the difference.

Sometimes we roar when we should stay silent, and sometimes we remain silent when we should roar. But in God’s wisdom, in that moment before Pilate, Jesus chose to walk as the Lamb. He didn’t roar because fulfilling His purpose required Him to stand in submission as the Lamb.

"This is what the Sovereign Lord, the Holy One of Israel, says: 'In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength'" (Isaiah 30:15, NIV).

Strength doesn’t always come from making noise. Sometimes it’s found in the stillness. Silence can serve as a shield, and quietness can be a powerful weapon. That’s why God reminds us:

"Be still, and know that I am God" (Psalm 46:10, NIV).

And it’s the same reason God reminded the Israelites after they had escaped from Pharaoh:

"The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still" (Exodus 14:14, NIV).

The greatest proof of faith is often choosing to stay quiet when everything inside you wants to speak. When accusations fly and emotions boil over, silence becomes an act of trust—trusting that God’s plan is stronger than your voice.

In your Luke 19 season, shout with joy and praise Him. But in your Matthew 27 season, stand silent and trust that your silence speaks louder than words. Jesus said:

"I am sending you out like sheep among wolves. Therefore, be as shrewd as snakes and as innocent as doves" (Matthew 10:16, NIV).

Wisdom recognizes the moment and the season. It discerns when to speak and when to step back. Sometimes, the strongest choice you can make is to let them win—not because you’re weak, but because you’re walking in purpose. Purpose knows when to roar—and when to rest.

Jesus could have silenced His accusers or overpowered Pilate with a single word. But He didn’t. Instead, He held His peace.

"He was oppressed and afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth; he was led like a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before its shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth" (Isaiah 53:7, NIV).

Jesus stayed silent, even as He suffered, with wounds across His back. His words held too much power to be spoken. He couldn’t speak because His words will never pass away. He couldn’t talk through His suffering and crucifixion because the very act of God speaking brings life.

The Scriptures are the true, infallible Word of God. Yet, they provide only a glimpse of the Logos—the Word that existed before time and the Word that created time itself. The Word of God isn’t confined to the pages of Genesis through Revelation. It is alive, active, and sharper than any double-edged sword.

If Jesus had spoken before Caiaphas, Herod, or Pilate, He could have shattered entire kingdoms with a single word. Yet, the Lamb chose to remain silent. He understood the power of restraint and the purpose behind His silence.

So, when you find yourself misunderstood, falsely accused, or unjustly attacked—remember the Lamb. Recall the power of His silence. He didn’t need to prove Himself to those beneath His purpose. He didn’t defend what heaven had already approved. And neither do you. Sometimes, the greatest demonstration of strength is your silence. At times, the loudest declaration of your faith is your refusal to speak. So hold your peace. Trust the process. And walk in the silence of the Lamb.

Read past sermons by Pastor John Talcott