By the year 1959, Charlie Brown and his friends had already achieved fame in the Sunday comics. That was the year Charlie Brown's sister was born. Shortly after Sally's birth, Charlie was bemoaning the fact that the world was not a fit place for sister Sally to be born. Maybe Steve and Laura spent a few anxious months wondering what kind of a world into which Riley would be born: wars in far off places and cultural wars in our own fair land. All kinds of hatred and bad blood and salty language - and that's just in the halls of Congress!

Back in '59, Charlie Brown's friend, Linus, tried to reassure Charlie that the world was not so bad. "In fact," said Linus, "the world is a better place today than just six years ago." "You're crazy, Linus. Why do you think the world is a better place now than six years ago?" And Linus answered, "Because, as of six years ago, I became a part of this world!"

Now, not too many people would have the confident audacity to say that the world is a better place merely because of their being a part of it. If I were to say, "Folks, the world is a better place because of me," I better make sure that I live my life in such a perfect way that the words are always true." In reality, I am incapable of doing that.

Now, we can say those words about another. Certainly Steve and Laura and their family and friends will proclaim, "Six months ago, Riley, the world became a better place because of you!" But, about ourselves? Though we may believe it ... we are smart not to say it aloud!

A sunny Jerusalem morning - a small parade down the Mount of Olives. You can be sure the cheerleaders of Jesus - as well as his followers - anticipate that their world will soon improve because of this man on a donkey. In three short years of ministry, Jesus has left his mark in the lives of hundreds of people whom he healed, fed and taught. But this morning in Jerusalem, his cheerleaders - as well as his followers - have bigger things in mind. These were people steeped in the tradition of freedom ... though none had experienced the reality of being free. For the past ninety-six years, Israel was a puppet state with Rome pulling the strings. And the cheerleaders - as well as the followers - of Jesus see in him God's agent for cutting the ties with Rome and setting up an independent Jewish state. "Hosanna," they shout. "God save us."

Some people in Jerusalem that day think how odd the little parade looks. Why, when you think of a warrior king ... you think of a man in full uniform, a multitude of ribbons and gold braid ... riding a big, white horse. Jesus rides into Jerusalem wearing a simple robe; his legs wrapped around the underbelly of a donkey. But the cheerleaders of Jesus - and the followers - know better, even as they hope for the best. They are not only steeped in the tradition of freedom (though they have not experienced the reality of it), they are also familiar with the scriptures: "Rejoice greatly, O Daughter of Zion!" urges the prophet, Zechariah. "Shout, Daughter of Jerusalem! See, your king comes to you, righteous and having salvation, gentle and riding on a donkey ... he will proclaim peace to the nations. His rule will extend from sea to sea and from the River to the ends of the earth."

I made the distinction earlier between the cheerleaders of Jesus and the followers of Jesus. The cheerleaders of Jesus. To be sure, there were plenty of them lining the path down the Mount of Olives, just as surely there are many in our midst. And the difference on Palm Sunday - between those who cheer and those who follow - is ambiguous, unclear. On Palm Sunday.

The cheerleader is willing to cheer from a distance, which is both safe and comfortable. The cheerleader cheers as long as there are no demands, or risks, or dangers. This is what Søren Kierkegaard calls "play Christianity," where Palm Sunday church goers are willing spectators, waving palms and singing Hosannas, but are unwilling to do much more than that. They are cheerleaders of Jesus - and on a Jerusalem Palm Sunday it is difficult to tell the cheerleaders from the followers. Cheerleaders want to cheer but not have their lives changed. Jesus calls no one to cheer him; he calls all of us to follow.

To follow Jesus is to understand that he did not come to take away the pain and suffering which is part-and-parcel to human life. This is the mistake that cheerleaders make. They feel that by praising Jesus they will somehow be somehow immune from the Shakespearean, "slings and arrows of outrageous fate"; that perhaps by cheering Jesus they will be a little richer, happier, healthier. However, followers of Jesus understand the part about picking up a cross - a burden - on behalf of another. Followers of Jesus understand, as one theologian put it, "when you pick up that cross, you better make sure you look good on wood."

This is not a popular message in twenty-first century America! Nor was it popular in first century Israel. To follow the man who dies on a cross, means to go against the grain of the world!

A Yorktown Palm Sunday and - are we indulging in "play Christianity"? Are we cheering spectators on the sidelines? If that is the case - then the world into which Riley is born is less the good world our God created it to be. But to the extent we give to our Savior more than a mere hip hooray, then the world indeed will be that better place. Who could want anything less than a brighter, more peaceful planet for the children of God? Who would want anything less than a better world - for the life of Riley?