I Love A Parade!

The Macy’s Parade maybe the most celebrated parade in America. Inaugurated on Thanksgiving Day in 1924, during the heart of The Great Depression, employees of the Chain marched to the store on 34th Street dressed in costumes of bright colors. The success of the day’s events led to expanding the parade to balloons, bands, floats, TV coverage, and of course Santa Claus. Millions of spectators line the streets each year, while the rest of us tune into the coverage for the unofficial launch of the Christmas season. The Macy’s Parade may be the most popular parade, not only because of its timing, but also because of the miracle movie associated with it.

My own experience with parades is fairly limited. I have one childhood memory of my family attending a parade. We packed a lunch and lawn chairs and helped line the street with all the other attendees. I have no recollection of the location of the parade, but I do remember dad putting me on his shoulders so I could have bird’s eye view. As an adult I’ve participated in numerous parades. I’ve marched with the Cub Scouts in the Veteran’s Parade, tossed candy from a float sponsored by our church in a Christmas Parade, and watched my son march in his high school band around the town square. Yes, he played the trombone. No, he was the only trombone player marching and he did not lead the parade.

Everyone loves a parade. From those at Thanksgiving, to the ones at Christmas, to those that usher in the New Year, and to the Windy City’s St. Patrick’s Day Parade with the Chicago River dyed bright emerald green. We march in Veterans and Memorial Day Parades to honor our servicemen, and stand in awe of the formation in the military parade. When our favorite sports team wins the championship we line the streets in ticket-tape fashion. In my hometown of Portland, Oregon the Starlight Parade opens the Rose Festival while Cincinnati kicks off the baseball season with its own parade. To say we love a parade maybe an understatement.

Rome loved parades as well, though they called them a Triumphal Procession. When the battle was over and the war was won the victors and the victims were paraded through the streets of Rome. The procession was led by trumpeters to announce their arrival. The defeated citizens, particularly the nobility, royalty, and military, were marched through the streets wearing their native clothing much like our modern day Olympian Parade of Champions. Unlike our Olympians, instead of the cheers, these people were booed and mocked, humiliated, shamed, and ridiculed by crowds lining the paths. Who’s to say they weren’t pelted with tomatoes or even rocks? Looted treasures where carried through the streets, celebrated and hoisted as a trophy. At the end of the procession was the conquering general driving a chariot. Dressed to look like the god Jupiter, the general adorned a purple and gold toga, a scepter crowned by an eagle, and wearing a red leaded mask. The climax of the procession was at the temple of Jupiter where the captives were forced to reenact the decisive battle and then executed before the crowds, dignitaries, and gods. Rome loved their parades, but I’m not sure if we could stomach them.

Having unified the Gallic tribes (over simplification: modern day France), Vercingetorix declared war against Julius Caesar’s Rome. His initial battle successfully pushed back Rome incurring several thousand deaths. The victory was short-lived as the Romans retaliated through besieging the Gallic armies and squeezing every bit of their supplies dry. Rome had time and resources on their side. In order to save his people Vercingetorix surrendered to Rome, hoping to stay off execution. But alas, he and his men were paraded through the streets of Rome before being executed by garroting, the art of killing someone by means of wire or cord, likely something akin to barbed wire. Rome savored the parade-like procession moment.

Picking up on this parade imagery, this Triumphal Procession, Paul bursts into praise: “But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumphal procession in Christ and through us spreads everywhere the fragrance of the knowledge of him” (2 Cor. 2:14). Paul seems to love a parade. Even more so, Paul loves the image of the triumphal procession where the victors lead the victims in a parade. Note the present tense of his praise, “God always leads us” means it is currently happening now. So, the image is clear enough. We, the followers of Christ are being led in a triumphal parade following a great battle. What’s not as clear is what the image of the triumphal procession actually means.

One popular interpretation is that Paul sees himself as the victorious general with or leading the defeated procession to Jesus (C.K. Barret, 98). Such a picture places the apostle on the victors stand as he, not to mention the church, own and humiliated the enemies of Christ. With this interpretation the church stands in the driver’s seat of culture to dictate, mandate, and even control the direction society goes. We are the victors and to us goes the spoils.

If I were honest, I feel a little uneasy with such an interpretation. If that is what Paul is saying it seems like the church can run the risk of an entitlement mentality, demanding its rights, and forcing its will on people and the society. In other words, the hunted easily becomes the hunter, so that anyone out of line of church norms is dealt with severely. I’m not sure that is what Paul has in mind especially given the rest of 2 Corinthians where Paul seems to argue the opposite.

Thus, the second view finds Paul, the apostles, and the church not as victors in the parade, but victims. Paul sees himself as part of the ones who are defeated, dishonored, degraded, and defamed. In this scene Paul, through Jesus Christ, has been conquered as he marches along the walk of shame. Paul has no rights or honor since he has surrendered his will. Thus, when Paul speaks in the next verse of the “aroma of Christ” and the “smell of death” (v. 15), he is doubling down on the image to speak of himself as sacrificed to God. Some saw the faithful sacrificing their lives to God as a stench, while God smelled a fragrant aroma. For, like Jesus giving up his life so that we might live, we sacrifice our lives so that others might live as well.

Very little, if any good, came from the Nazi concentration camps in World War II. Even less chance from the hell-hole called Auschwitz. But there was a prisoner, a Franciscan Priest, who had been hiding and helping the Jews and was imprisoned for committing such “horrible crimes.” His name was Maximilian Kolbe. He spent his prison days ministering to the other inmates. He offered his bread when they were hungry. He gave up his blanket when they were cold. He spoke kind and hopeful words when they were despondent. He was the aroma of Christ consumed with the smell of death. Mind you, he wasn’t going to make it out alive, was he? The only question was, how was he going to die?

In July 1941 a prisoner escaped the camp. The Commandant decided to punish those still in the camp by executing ten prisoners for the one who had escaped. As the Commandant read a random list of people he came to Sergeant Francis Gajowniczek, a Polish Jew, who cried out, “Have mercy! I have a wife and family!” Maximilian Kolbe stepped forward and requested to exchange places with Gajowniczek. For whatever reason, the Commandant allowed the trade. He and others were led to a room where they were denied food for a month before Kolb died by lethal injection. He died physically that day because spiritually he had already died by emptying himself. He was able to give his life because he had already died for Christ. His death was certainly a pleasing aroma to God, not because he died, but because of the means he met his death.

What Paul says about this Triumphal Procession runs counter to our intuitive thinking. We have control issues and we believe that being taken prisoner is a sign of weakness. We tell ourselves to pray harder, or to attend church more often, or to give more money, or take on more patients, or just be good. Even worse, we tremble at the thought of being dragged through the streets just like Paul in the Triumphal Procession. Instead, having surrendered to Jesus we find peace to throw ourselves deeper into serving, loving, and even forgiving. Because when we gave our lives to Jesus we already sacrificed away our lives anyway.

So the next time you watch a parade remember Paul’s Triumphal Procession. Look to the rear and if you see the climax of the parade or Santa Claus, remember that’s not you. We are not the victor, but the victim. You’re part of the procession being led even if it means death. Yea, it does have the smell of death, but then again it’s also an aroma of the fragrance of life.

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e., only God is glorified!)