"Now when they drew near to Jerusalem and came to Bethphage, to the Mount of Olives, then Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them, 'Go into the village in front of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her. Untie them and bring them to Me. If anyone says anything to you, you shall say, 'The Lord needs them,' and he will send them at once.' This took place to fulfill what was spoken by the prophet saying, 'Say to the daughter of Zion, Behold, your king is coming to you, humble, and mounted on a donkey, and on a colt, the foal of a beast of burden.' The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them. They brought the donkey and the colt and put on them their cloaks, and He sat on them. Most of the crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. And the crowds that went before Him and that followed Him were shouting 'Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!' And when He entered Jerusalem, the whole city was stirred up, saying, 'Who is this?'" (Matt.21:1-10)
Palm Sunday. We enter today the first day of Holy Week, celebrating the day that Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a colt, while the Passover crowds shouted their "Hosannas."
Think of it--the city of Jerusalem was teaming with mobs of folks from all over Israel, who had excitedly arrived in the City of David to celebrate the Passover. And right in the midst of all that hoopla and activity and speculation, in rides Jesus--unequivocally fulfilling Old Testament prophecy from Zech.9:9 that the Messiah would come riding on the foal of a donkey. No wonder the crowds excitedly hailed Jesus as King!
But as I contemplated this joyous moment, with palm branches waving and children shouting happily, I couldn't help but realize...Jesus knew. Jesus knew the full and complete story. He knew that in five days, these same joyful shouts of "Hosanna!" would morph into brutal taunts and hateful yelling of "Crucify Him!" The disciples were blissfully ignorant of the horrors that lay ahead. The crowds were clueless about how fickle and deadly their shouts would soon become.
Only Jesus knew. And yet, He came. Despite the horrific knowledge of what lay ahead--the betrayal, the denial, the insults, the spitting, the slapping, the scourging, the taunting...the weight of all that sin upon the cross--despite it all, He joyfully rode into Jerusalem. All the while knowing, He was, at that very moment, signing His death warrant.
As Andreas Kostenberger writes: "Up to this point in Jesus's ministry, He could still have managed to live a long, happy, peaceful life, but His actions on Sunday set in motion a series of events that could result in either His overthrow of the Romans and the current religious establishment--or His brutal death. He had crossed the point of no return; there would be no turning back. Caesar could allow no rival kings." Nor could the pharisees and the religious establishment.
Somehow I never considered what internal agony this could have, must have, been for Jesus. Such excitement and enthusiasm exhibited by the crowds. Such unabated joy and rejoicing. I wonder if the sun shone brightly and warmly on a lovely spring morning like it is here today in Raleigh? Birds singing; trees budding; flowers blooming; and pilgrims happily shouting and waving palm branches to welcome the true and rightful King.
And yet the terrible, dark counterpoint...another step closer to crucifixion. Jesus' choice to enter as the King--humble, yes, on a donkey's colt, but nonetheless, as the prophetic fulfillment of the Messianic King--would inexorably begin His lonely, hard march to the cross.
If somehow or other you possessed the awful knowledge that in less than a week, you'd be hated, betrayed, denied, tortured, humiliated, and brutally executed, would you be able to do anything? Would you be able to have a single conversation with anyone? Wouldn't you be weighed down with the horrific knowledge of it all, filled with dread, fear, and even bitterness at the terrible abyss of pain and death staring at you?
I know I would. I'd be unable to speak or laugh or eat or frankly care about anything or anyone. How could you not be preoccupied by the oppressive, terrible weight of it all?
And yet, Jesus wasn't. No, despite everything He knew, He came and obediently, joyfully rode into the city filled with people that He loved and for whom He would soon be dying. Despite it all, He kept teaching, kept exhorting, kept working, kept forgiving, kept loving...all the way to the very end.
How can you not love such a Savior? How can you not worship such a Redeemer?
He knows it all about us too. Even as we vow to put Him first, to "get our priorities straight," and then fail Him again...He still loves us and comes to us and urges us to follow Him. Even as we make promises we're, again, unable to keep...His promises to us in His Word never, ever fail; nor will He ever fail us or forsake us. Even as we give in to fretting and fear over the future and refuse to trust Him again...He comes to us, riding in as our King, and telling us, once more, that He's got it; He's got us; and He's working all things out for our good and His glory. Even as we, fickle children that we are, complain and fuss, forgetting all He's done for us and all He's given us...He loves us still, continuing to lavish upon us His grace, His mercy, His presence, His peace, His power.
What a relentless Savior. He never gives in to fear. He never succumbs to discouragement. He never grows tired or weary or exasperated. No, He keeps coming, loving, forgiving, saving as our gracious and glorious King. Day after day, despite all that He knows of us...because of His infinite love and His unrelenting grace.
So, Father, all we can say is, thank You, thank You, thank You. Oh might we truly worship You, our King--not just with our voices...but with our hearts, souls, minds and bodies. Thank You that despite all You know of us, You still come to us as our Savior that we might know You as Father and Friend.
For You, our true and forever King, are worthy.
To God be the glory.
No comments:
Post a Comment