Sunday morning: for Jews, the day after the Sabbath. After a day of quiet rest in their homes, people thronged the streets of Jerusalem, joining the usual rush, but with an added edge. From the west, Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor, was riding into Jerusalem at the head of a column of imperial cavalry; the people quaked in fear. He’d come to intimidate, and to keep that sort of peace that is nothing but trembling fear.

But then rumors spread: another great man is riding in from the east, not on a war stallion or in a chariot, but on a humble donkey. Jesus, descending the Mt. of Olives into the Kidron Valley, then through the gates of the Holy City. Excitement mixed with confusion: Jesus had won quite a reputation – so would he be the one to lead the rabble in rebellion against the Romans?

Jesus, as was often the case, disappointed, even before the cries of “Hosanna!” settled down. No sword was hidden under his tunic, and if anybody flashed a weapon he sternly but lovingly said “Put your sword away.” He seemed more likely to be killed than to kill. He came into Jerusalem, not avoiding those who feared him or misunderstood him. He engaged, he demanded a decision – and across the centuries, he still confronts all of us with God’s humble compassion, ready to bear all injustice in order to redeem it, prepared to be ridiculed to rescue our ridiculous lives, relentless in his mission of saving grace.

So now we can grasp the pathos of that children’s hymn: “Tell me the stories of Jesus… Into the city I’d follow… waving a branch of the palm tree high in my hand.” We follow, yes – and much courage will be required. Jesus knew he was in for a rough week – and across the years he invites us to follow, trembling a bit and yet confident in him, bracing for what may come, trusting that the dawning of the next Sunday, the Easter resurrection Sunday, cannot be thwarted.

Prayer: Lord Jesus, thank you for entering Jerusalem, and our lives. Thank you for your courage, your determination, your mission, for showing us the divine heart. Help me to follow – but I’ll need you to give me some courage, and strength, and mostly love to be close to you, to do whatever you ask, to be a humble, fearless servant in Your kingdom.