Easily Excitable

Palm Sunday is tomorrow. Be sure to bring your cloaks and palm branches to a church of your choosing. 

Holy Week itself is one of the greatest depictions of human nature we have. Spoiler alert? Jesus comes out looking great. Humans? Not so much.

On Palm Sunday, 2000 years ago, the streets were thick with people. Children darted across the road- at least those who weren’t sitting up on their parents’ shoulders, vying for a line of sight. 

In the press of bodies, the smell was probably thick- that, along with other smells of an agrarian culture: hay, manure, goods at the market.

And as this Jesus comes through, people cast down their cloaks and their branches before Him. 

“Hosanna!” they cry. Translation: “God, save us!”

These were a people oppressed by Roman rule: they were the lowest in the eyes of all around them. And this Man of Miracles, Wandering Preacher, and Healer of the common man? Here He was- coming to save His people. 

And He was, make no mistake. 

However, by the end of the week, these people are screaming for His crucifixion. 

How does the tide turn so quickly? 

How does a bowing crowd screaming in adoration turn into an angry mob shouting for execution in less than a week? How did it come to this? 

We might ask ourselves, “How could they miss it?” 

But, really? Human nature hasn’t changed. 

There’s a recent word in our vocabulary and culture that, up until recently, was used for events, school days, or dentist appointments. The word? Canceled.

To some degree, it’s a new phenomenon, but really? Folks have faced the judgment of mobs for quite some time. Nothing new under the sun.

The method of delivery is just a little faster and the scope a little broader now. 

In the span of five days, the Son of God went from a triumphal entry to a shameful exit; this exit, of course, ended with His hanging on the Cross, which might be the most violent cancellation in all of history. 

Being that we live in a cancellation culture, we can understand that, right?

On a personal level, we prefer not to square with that: we’d rather clutch our pearls and argue that, personally, we’d not turn against the Savior of the world.

Our human nature is flawed from top to bottom, but one of our worst assertions? The thought, “I would never…” 

We’re apt to think about Passion Week and arrive in a mighty judgmental place regarding the Romans and the Jewish people that week. 

But we aren’t different. We’re still the same sin-ridden people we were 2000 years ago. 

These are some things I’ve been thinking about the past couple of days. I’ve been reading the different accounts of the Triumphal Entry in the Gospels, and a couple things have have stood out, specifically related to our human nature (loosely based in the fact that we never learn our lesson).

Here are those thoughts: 

1. Our hearts are fickle.  

My job is a daily sociological study. Read: I teach high school.

Here’s something I’ve learned (and hope you’ll understand): teenagers have adult feelings, but they do not have the adult tools to deal with those feelings constructively. 

(Those tools come with a little something I like to call ‘a developed frontal lobe’).

For this reason, teenagers often blow things out of proportion: specifically, they can turn on their best friends with fascinating speed. Equally impressive is how quickly an entire group, grade, or school can jump on. 

Turncoating isn’t just for the teenagers, though: we’re just as likely to do the same. 

It’s part and parcel to the whole cancel culture deal, wherein the moment you do something I disagree with, I disavow you and every connection I previously had to you.

Even when it’s warranted (which that is a conversation for another day), we are a people quick to denounce and disown.

From the same mouth come cursing and blessing, and oftentimes, these aren’t too far-spaced out from one another. What’s more, nothing is faster to forgo forgiveness and understanding than our social media culture. 

Just what can happen in five days? Look no further than Passion Week.

2. The mob mentality isn’t anything new.

The excitement of Palm Sunday had to have been contagious: I mean, surely, there were folks there who surely couldn’t have known a whole lot about Jesus, right?

But there was a spectacle to be seen, so a crowd gathered.

That was the inclination that led to choosing Barabbas, rather than Jesus, for release five days later. 

On Good Friday, the leading priests and the old guard were riling everyone up in the crowd, telling them to ask for Barabbas. 

Being that the Romans were afraid of revolt and riots breaking out, it certainly leads one to believe they were successful in their pursuit.

This mob mentality is a product, or a furtherance of, our quickness to turn coat. As a general rule, there is something nasty in us that- to some degree- loves seeing someone knocked to the ground, and it’s in our nature to want to throw in a punch. 

Social media wouldn’t have gotten this far without that proclivity.

3. Nothing is as moving as disappointment. 

Passion Week is a picture of a specific type of disappointment. 

This is spiritual disappointment which, no matter the form, aches in a different way than any other kind. 

We still react the same way in our disappointment, in our anger, when our expectations aren’t met. 

It’s a crushing thing when God doesn’t act in the way we believe He should, leaving our personal plan in a wreck on the floor.

magnify that times a million, and such was the feeling of the crowd on Good Friday:

“You’re trying to tell me the Messiah- the Son of God- is THIS guy?” Surely, this was the disillusioned thought the people had when they looked at Jesus standing before the crowd- beside Pilate, opposite Barabbas. 

Do you think Barabbas cut the more impressive figure? 

He was a rebel, a murderer, but I wonder if, in the people’s minds, there was the thought that at least he’d done something to help their cause.

This Jesus guy couldn’t actually be the Messiah, right? Because if He were, He wouldn’t be standing bound: He’d have gotten Himself out- overthrown the whole joint in a country minute. 

Again, we would be unwise to cast judgment on these people. We’re not different.

So blinded by their expectations of what God would do, how He would show Himself, and how He would move, they placed their confidence in their own dreams of a Messiah, rather than believing in the true Messiah Himself. 

We do this all the time: our dreams trump our willingness to buy into the play God’s pushing down the field.

Passion Week is a revelation of the brokenness of humanity. 

Mankind is a wreck. 

But as with all situations in life, there stands nothing irredeemable when God’s power is in view. 

It’s nothing short of miraculous, the way God can turn our wrecks around, and praise the Father, He’s still in that business today. 

The perfect antithesis to our wretchedness, here’s how God is still able to work, even in these situations. 

Disappointment?

Sadly, it’s a reality that will leave none of us unscathed. We have a plan, to some degree, in each of our minds how God should act.

To some extent, each of us have a concept of God that’s been formed to ourselves. Sadly (or, actually, quite joyfully!), that means we cannot search the mind of God- He is entirely other from us, holy in every way. 

And in that holiness is His sovereignty: His knowledge of situation and every potential path, along with its termination. 

Also in that holiness is His omnipotence- His holy ability to act on that knowledge, defying every obstacle. 

And in that holiness is His goodness- His loving kindness toward us that is of the purest form- there is no ill will, nor any ulterior motives in Him. 

This knowledge is the only way we rightly handle our spiritual disappointments: it’s the only way to square with those moments that knock us in the gut. 

The Jewish people were disappointed by the King of kings because He wasn’t there to defeat the Romans. No, His mission was so much wider and of so much more consequence than that: His mission was to destroy sin and death itself. 

Similarly, we think we understand God’s mind, but we can’t fathom the purposes He’s stringing together: His mission is so much bigger and of so much more consequence than our personal lives. Even in our personal lives, His mission is so much higher than our happiness or even what we think we need. 

What a good, faithful, thoughtful God.

What’s more, the worst elements of human behavior? 

They cannot wreck the plan of God. 

From a human perspective on Good Friday, we’d count it all lost if we looked at Jesus’ situation: 

• Abandoned
• Despised
• Crucified
• Dead
• Buried

It was the Jewish elites, acting in conjunction with the Romans, aided and abetted by the crowds that day. But, really? It was our sin- all of our sin- that put Him up there. 

For our sins, Jesus was killed: death thought it had won the day. 

However, because Jesus was no mere man, but rather God Himself, He rose from that grave. 

The schemes of man cannot defeat the purposes of God. 

Praise be to God.

Let us take this from Palm Sunday and from the Holy Week itself:

We humans are broken to the core. Our flesh is corrupt. Our very DNA itself is flawed.

And yet, because of Jesus, there is redemption for our brokenness.

Hallelujah to the King!