Dear one,
This morning I found myself thinking: “Really? In three days? How did that happen?” My near-disbelief centered upon this Sunday’s celebration: Palm Sunday. Equally, my thinking about the approach of Palm Sunday, matches my incredulity vis-à-vis the coronavirus: both are upon us; both are real—what they will ultimately mean, remains to be seen.
Very clearly and rightly, our present focus is upon COVID-19: five letters and two numerals, which signal a potentially radical shift in our hearts and minds. And yet, with a view to Palm Sunday, I wonder: approximately two millennia ago a moment occurred in “Salvation History” (Heilsgeschicte), which, in my view, continues to reshape the whole of human history: the King of kings, the Prince of Peace, the Light came unto His own riding upon a borrowed donkey. Those who witnessed His entry into Jerusalem shouted:
"Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David! Hosanna in the highest heaven!" (Mark 11:9-10).
And yet, within the greatness of the Roman Empire, did anyone seriously note a religious procession, which occurred in that backwater eddy: Jerusalem of Judea? On that particular Sunday, to what or whom did all eyes turn? Tiberius’ luxurious life of leisure on Capri? The praetorian guards’ movement toward the Rhine? A fire killing thousands in Rome? The Empire’s de facto ruler, Sejanus, and his latest court intrigue? Within the Roman hierarchy and world, did only Pontius Pilate gave due attention to the popular, itinerate prophet, descending to the steps of the Temple?
But even those who hailed Jesus’ entry, whom did they see? One who would free them from the shackles of Roman oppression? One who could call down fire from Heaven, in order to destroy their enemies? Whatever they hoped, whomever they saw, Mark’s narrative is surely anticlimactic:
“Then [Jesus] entered Jerusalem and went into the temple; and when he had looked around at everything, as it was already late, he went out to Bethany with the twelve” (Mark 11:11).
Please do not misunderstand me: during these coronavirus days, surely our focus must be upon those combating and those suffering and dying from the disease. Nonetheless, I wonder: During these days, what might be occurring in Zomba, Malawi, or Jaffna, Sri Lanka, or Biloxi, Mississippi—what might be occurring of great, Heavenly significance? Or even more pointedly, what might God be doing in your backyard, kitchen, or family room? In these days, may you not miss those moments.
Hopefully,
Stan