Mark 11:1-11
We
are familiar with big entrances, the Hollywood stars arriving in their limos to
flashes and name calling. They arrive in their ridiculous dresses, often
covering much less than is decent, with a suited man in tow. They walk up the
carpet with plastic smiles and obligatory poses for the photographers. In a
business driven by looks, looks are what get covered, both by the media and by
makeup.
The
church is not exempt from grand entrances. Most often it is with big name
ministries. Cameras flash, autographs given, TV footage captured, the focus
shifted to the personality and not to Christ. But even normal people like us
can make an entrance. We time our arrival to the event so that others are there
first, that way when we arrive, the focus shifts to us. We are consistently
late, signaling we think we are better than others, that our time is more
important, that we are busier.
Jesus’
arrival in Judaism’s capital city, Jerusalem, for the central religious ceremony
of the year doesn’t come with much fanfare, at least not the normal kind. You
would expect someone who was supposed to be setting up an alternative kingdom
with political and territorial authority to arrive with an army to back up the
claims. If Jesus is going to do that He needs more than a few crude weapons and
twelve ill-trained followers.
Jesus
doesn’t arrive riding a military horse with army in tow. He doesn’t send His emissary
to the ruler with conditions of surrender. He doesn’t gather His leading
military men and disseminate the battle plan.
Instead,
we find Him walking in a crowd of common people, arriving a little late in the
day, and riding a lowly donkey. Not exactly the picture of military might. No
army is in tow. They aren’t even waiting outside the city for an ambush if
surrender doesn’t happen. There is no Army, for the battle Jesus is going to
fight and win is the battle against sin, the battle never before successfully
won.
The
common people do their best to make it a grand entrance. They make a carpet of
coats and branches for the donkey to walk on. They express their own hopes and
dreams about Jesus’ mission in calls of celebration. They expect salvation to
come as Jesus comes. It does, but not in the way they expected.
Sometimes
things don’t go as we expect. Often our hopes are not fulfilled. Disappointment
is part of life. But perhaps we need a shift in perspective in those moments.
If the people of Jesus’ day had known that He was going to solve the sin
problem, I can bet there would have been a much larger crowd welcoming Him that
day. I can bet all those who had been touched would have shown up to throw
their weight behind His ultimate sacrifice. Their cries of rejoicing would have
been much louder, probably filled with tears of gratitude.