“The heart of the New Testament picture of Jesus is the story of a God who comes to pitch his tent in our midst and to reveal his glory right here”
One thing I’ve learned in studying the Bible for many years is that Jesus is never what I expect him to be. Often he leaves me scratching my head as he does something spiritually profound, and yet hard to understand. The story of Palm Sunday is just such a moment.
At first glance the scene seems a bit surreal. I imagine Jesus rolling into town with people shouting, praising, waving beaches, and getting caught up in the excitement of it all — even though he rode in on a donkey. It was Passover and that meant that the streets would have been filled with onlookers and visitors from all over. Passover meant more people, more attention, and potentially more trouble.
Jesus is certainly a triumphal king as we will celebrate one week from today — but the profound nature of what Jesus is doing in this story has more to do with the brokenness of the people and world around him. You see, Jesus didn’t come to be showered with praise, kingly robes, or a crown of gold. Jesus came to a broken world with broken justice, corrupt power, and failed love. He came to bring renewal; a do-over, and we needed it.
N.T. Wright writes, “The heart of the New Testament picture of Jesus is the story of a God who comes to pitch his tent in our midst and to reveal his glory right here… The gospel is not about a distant god playing puppets with his world and with humans. It is about God coming to the place where the world is in pain, where the personal and political and societal tensions have reached a screaming point, and standing there to take the pain of the world into himself, to be with us in the midst of it all, and right there to reveal the glory of his self-giving love.”
Isn’t that a picture of our world over the past year? One of pain, suffering, political tension, and societal unrest. Things both inwardly and outwardly seemed to have reached a screaming point. N.T. Wright continues by commenting that “our world just now is reeling from so many broken dreams, from the schooling prospects of children in lockdown to the terrible plight of so many refugees, to the persecution of minorities in many countries and right home to the horrible rising tide of COVID deaths in our homes and down the street.”
We are exhausted, and what do we see? Our God, Jesus, not distant leaving us to deal with our suffering alone, but coming to dwell with us, his people, in our pain and suffering. Jesus knew the cries of those around him were voices of people broken and hurting. But God didn’t wait for us to clean up our lives or our world. He came down to the place where our hopes and aspirations had crashed to the ground. God literally came to the most broken places of our world, our life and meets us. Hallelujah!
I wonder if Jesus rejoiced knowing the outcome of his journey into the city of Jerusalem would eventually be an invitation, for all humanity, to a new reality of life where death, suffering, pain, and separation from God would not get the last word. An invitation to the reality that the creator of all things came to us to put all things back to rights and then invited us to join him. Jesus came to us, to redeem, renew, restore, and relieve our suffering. That’s what he did for us on the cross. Are you in need of some renewal? If we are honest, the answer is, “absolutely, most certainly yes!” Well, then, you should know. Jesus offers that to you - how will you respond?
Now, when I read this story, it seems clear that those singing mostly missed the point that day. What they wanted was so small compared to what was offered. What about you? Have you experienced Jesus with you in the midst of your suffering? Spend some time carefully reading the story of the last week of Jesus’ life, starting here in John 20 with the Triumphal Entry. As you read it, remember Jesus actions back then are, in part, for the opportunity you have this very moment - a brand new life with the King of Kings and the Lord of Lords. Thank you, Jesus. Hosanna!