Luke 19:47-48
“Every day he was teaching at the temple. But the chief priests, the teachers of the law and the leaders among the people were trying to kill him. Yet they could not find any way to do it, because all the people hung on his words.”
They hung to his words, these people soaked up all Jesus shared like sponges. Soft and thirsty they sat before him, letting every word that left Jesus’ lips comfort their souls, heal their hearts, and nourish their beings.
When Jesus came into Jerusalem he was praised and worshipped. King of the Jews. He was declared King of the Jews. They loved him. All except the priests and teachers of the law, of course.
Imagine being in the crowd. Imagine seeing Jesus, the messiah. The messiah who everyone said would one day come and save the world. He’s there, right in front of you. You’re close enough to reach out and touch his cloak. As he passes, you bow and drop the palm you’ve been holding in your hand just like everyone else around you. Your eyes meet his as you come back up. Jesus’ eyes glisten, twinkle if you will, and leave you filled to the brim with peace. The shouts and shrills make it all feel like a dream. It’s a haze as he rides off on his donkey toward the temple, but that one look left you with this hunger for more. You looked into the face of God and you’ve been changed.
You declare him the messiah and soon you’re shouting, ‘Hosanna! Blessed is the King of Israel!” You’ve been swept away with the crowd in this frenzy of joy and excitement. This man, a simple man on a donkey, was here to change the course of the world and deep in your very bones, you felt the intensity of it rising up.
But, would you ever guess, that in only a few short days you’d be shouting, “Away with this man! Crucify him!” and you’d be swept away with the crowd in a frenzy of anger and rage? This man, the son of God, a miracle maker, loved you like no other and like a light switch you turn on him.
He hung on a cross for even those who rejected him. He died, covered all their sin, and saved them, even though their hearts were fragile and fickle.
Today, as you think about what the first Palm Sunday looked like, consider how being in the first crowd would feel. Don’t stop there; declaring Jesus as your Lord and savior is easy in a crowd of others who feel the same. Put yourself in the second crowd and truly ask, what does my voice sound like here in a crowd of angry shouts and left-field shrills?
Take some time to journal, pour your heart out to Jesus, a man who knows the hurt of being turned on. Tell Jesus, as you write, who you’d be in the crowd and ask him to be with you through your day as you process the reality of having a fragile fickle heart.