A Tense Passover
It was spring in Israel, and the crowds were flooding into
Jerusalem for Passover. Passover was the
biggest week of the year, an exciting time, a time where faith and family and tradition
floated in the air.
But for Jesus’ disciples, it felt like a dangerous
time. The religious leaders’ anger at
Jesus had reached a fever pitch, and they had resolved in their council meeting
to kill Him (John 11:47-53). Jesus had
stopped being out in public around Jerusalem (John 11:54), and the leaders had
given orders for the people to report where Jesus was if they saw Him, so that they
might seize Him (John 11:57). In fact,
the Jewish leaders even planned to put Jesus’ friend Lazarus to death, since
stories of Jesus raising him from the dead had caused Lazarus to become a minor
celebrity himself, and had resulted in even more people believing in Jesus
(John 12:9-11). Some of the feast-goers arrived
with stories of having just seen Jesus and Lazarus at a meal together in nearby
Bethany, only heightening the anticipation of a public showdown (John
12:1-2,9).
The gossip among the
incoming Passover crowds including talk of what might happen (John 11:56): Will
Jesus come to the feast or not? Will He
try to sneak in secretly? If He comes,
what do you think the religious leaders will do? It was Passover, but the tension over Jesus could
not be missed. Everyone was watching to
see what He would do.
An Entrance No One Would Forget
As the Pharisees spied on those incoming Passover crowds,
making sure Jesus didn’t sneak past Jesus would not
sneak into Jerusalem. In fact, He would
come in as public a way as He ever had:
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Jesus sat on a donkey, and slowly rode into the city, His
disciples alongside Him for all to see.
The people noticed Him, whispers began, then shouts, and soon crowds
were running to see what was happening.
The crowd had heard so many good things about Jesus – many had seen
those good things with their own eyes – and so they spontaneously began taking
off their coats and cutting palm branches, setting them down on the road for
Jesus to enter over, an honor suggesting that Jesus deserved to enter on a
carpet spread before Him rather than the dust that everyone else walked
on.
Joyful delirium spread through the city. The impromptu parade gave repeated shouts of
“Hosanna to the Son of David; Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord;
Hosanna in the highest!” (Matthew. 21:9)
Hosanna means “Save now!” It was
a shout of praise, often given to God in the Psalms. The crowd, young and old, was shouting to
Jesus as the Messiah to save the people.
I wish I could’ve seen the Pharisees’ faces. Jesus’ bold entrance must have surprised
them. And for their part, they did not
have the courage to interrupt what had instantly become a city-wide
celebration. They stood in the back,
complaining in frustration that they needed a different strategy, because “the
world has gone after Him” (John 12:19).
A few of them shouted at Jesus about the crowds saying such God-like
things about Him. “Teacher, rebuke your
disciples,” they said. Jesus reply was
beyond priceless, a truth that must have made their mouths drop and their sinful
anger rise: “I tell you,” Jesus said, “if these become silent, the stones will
cry out!” (Luke 19:39-40). Who does He
think He is?! The crowds knew. The stones even knew. They were the ones missing it.
It was a day I imagine the people would never forget. And I’m so happy for Jesus that He got that
moment. Now, I realize that Jesus
doesn’t need me to be happy for Him, but for all that He went through and was
about to face – from criticisms and lies to spitting and nails, and patiently
letting it all happen – I’m happy that God’s plan included this moment, where
the people honored Jesus as He deserved to be honored. As the Son of David and King of Israel. As the one who alone could save, just as the
term ‘Hosanna’ implies. As the one so
big the Pharisees couldn’t dare touch Him.
The disciples must have beamed with surprise and delight. The danger ran away to hide, at least for a
few days.
A Detail We Shouldn’t Miss
But as much as I love that scene, which we often call “The
Triumphal Entry,” there’s one detail that doesn’t seem very triumphant: Jesus
is riding on a donkey? Not exactly the
ride of a king!
Kings are supposed to at
least ride on something grander, horses perhaps, animals that seem built for a
parade. I read years ago in David
McCullough’s book 1776 about King
George III of England, who rode on a grand royal coach he had ordered to be
built, 24 feet long and 13 feet high, weighing nearly four tons, “enough to
make the ground tremble when under way” (4). That’s the type of thing a king rides on. More lightheartedly, you might remember the
Disney animated movie Aladdin. If you’ve
seen it, you remember Aladdin is trying to win the princess, and he thinks he
must give the appearance of royalty, so the magic genie creates a
larger-than-life spectacle of people and animals and music, with Aladdin riding
above it all on a giant elephant, a picture of strength. That’s the type of thing a king
deserves.
Yet Jesus comes in on a donkey. A servant animal. Why?
Well, for one thing it fulfilled the prophecy of Zechariah 9:9. But it also symbolizes something we can’t
miss about Jesus, and one way His kingdom is so different from our worldly way
of thinking.
That difference might be summed up in what Jesus told His
disciples in Matthew 20, when the disciples had been arguing over who was the
greatest: “You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and
their great men exercise authority over them.
It is not this way among you, but whoever wishes to become great among
you shall be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you shall be
your slave; just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and
to give His life a ransom for many.” (Matt. 20:25-28)
Jesus didn’t come to be served, but to serve. To give His life for others. And, Jesus says, His followers must do the
same. That donkey ride points us back to
the humility of Jesus. A donkey’s job
was to serve. And here He carried the
ultimate Servant, a King with humility that we rarely see in our world.
We are used to seeing leaders serve themselves. Finding ways to get more attention, more
money, more power, and trying to defeat anything that might challenge their
positions of honor. People step all over
each other for celebrity and wealth, desiring to be envied and adored. And here is the King of all the universe, and
He’s doing the opposite. He is lowering
Himself to lift others up.
Sadly, we follow the world’s way more often than we’d like
to admit. We look for ways to lift
ourselves up. More money. More attention. More “success.” We are tempted to pursue our own glory, to
make it all about ourselves.
But Jesus comes to serve, and His servant attitude shapes
His kingdom. So if I want to be in His
kingdom, I need to take on that same servant attitude.
And you know what’s amazing about that? God does incredible things through those
humble servant attitudes. Jesus took on
the form of a servant, even dying on a cross, and God used it to bring
blessings to all those who would follow Him.
If we will live out the servanthood of Jesus, it will allow God to work through
us as well. It will change our
goals. It will change our
relationships. It will change our
effectiveness for God’s kingdom. As
James 4:10 promises: “Humble yourselves in the sight of the Lord, and He will
lift you up.” Christian humility
provides the perfect channel through which God can do great things.
Joining the Parade
When we follow Jesus, we do indeed join in a triumphal
parade. There is joy in all that God is
doing through Jesus Christ. But we must
remember that our triumphant Savior is seated on a donkey. If we’re following Him, He expects us to stop
trying to lift ourselves up and take our own seat next to Him. “Deny yourself, take up your cross and follow
Me” (Matthew 16:24). That can be a hard
lesson to learn.
So we shout along with that joy-filled Passover crowd from
so long ago: Hosanna – save us – O God. Save
us from our sins. Save us from the
temptation to follow the world’s way of thinking. Save us from trying to lift ourselves up. Save us from our own pride and selfishness. Save us by making us more like you – a
servant.
