When Jesus Wept - By Bodie Page 0,101

makeshift saddles in place with knots known more to ships and sailors than to beasts of burden, yet they served the purpose.

The crowd began to chant a hymn of ascent:

“Those who trust in the LORD are like Mount Zion,

which cannot be shaken but endures forever.

As the mountains surround Jerusalem,

so the Lord surrounds his people

both now and forevermore.”3

Nicodemus, out of breath from running all the way from the city, hurried up to me. “He won’t be persuaded to stay away? ”

I waved my hand toward the singing multitude. “Do you think anyone would attempt to harm him in the middle of this? Those who tried would be torn limb from limb. The crowd would turn on Caiaphas himself afterward.”

“The scepter of the wicked will not remain

over the land allotted to the righteous.”4

We sang with gusto, recognizing the power of the moment. “He has never let the people proclaim him king before,” Nicodemus murmured.

“We are being swept along on a tide that cannot be resisted,” I said. “Listen.”

“Lord, do good to those who are good,

to those who are upright in heart.

But those who turn to crooked ways

the LORD will banish with the evildoers.”5

“Have you ever heard such joyful anticipation?” I added. “I think half of Galilee is here. They are bringing their king to Jerusalem.”

“It’s more than that.” Nicodemus eyed the donkey. “It’s a prophecy fulfilled. The prophet Zechariah wrote:

“‘Rejoice greatly, O Daughter of Zion!

Shout, Daughter of Jerusalem!

See, your king comes to you,

righteous and having salvation,

gentle and riding on a donkey,

on a colt, the foal of a donkey.’ “6

“Do you think Jesus is deliberately acting out the prophecy?” I queried.

“No!” Nicodemus said sharply. “I think Zechariah looked across more than five hundred years and saw this very day!”

The day was warm and the road dirty. To keep the celebration from disappearing behind a veil of dust, the crowd began to strip off their cloaks. Running ahead of the procession, they lay their garments on the road in front of Jesus for him to pass over. The tramping of thousands of feet on a heap of red and brown robes was like the winepress of all the ages, crushing out everything that had gone before.

The vintage created from this year’s pressing would be the most magnificent of all time, I thought.

Not to be outdone, others seized on the trees that had been planted by the old Butcher King. Fronds, wrenched from these palms, were also strewn in the way until the highway was thickly carpeted with green.

As the multitude swarmed up the slope of the Mount of Olives, I was reminded of the great crowd Jesus fed from five loaves and two fish. I wondered how many of today’s enthusiastic supporters were present because they expected something similar this time. It was easy to applaud one who fed you for free.

At the crest of the hill an oncoming horde of people met us. Racing excitedly out of Jerusalem was a host equally as large as the one I was in. The word that Jesus was arriving had reached the Holy City, and its citizens emerged to greet him.

“Hosanna!” they cried. “Lord, save us!” Snatching up more palm branches, the newcomers waved them in acclamation.

The two surging tides of people met, clashing together like competing ocean waves.

Nicodemus shouted over the chants, “This could be dangerous! This is the welcome a nation gives a returning hero. This is the way Rome receives a victorious general or the victor at the end of a war of succession. This is the way they usher in a new king!”

“Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!

Hosanna to the Son of David!

Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord!

Hosanna in the highest!”7

There! It was out in the open. It was no longer possible for Jesus to discourage the common people from proclaiming him king. This time he did not disappear. This time he did not forbid them.

Jerusalem’s population doubled every Passover with arrivals from other provinces and foreign lands. What would happen if Jews from places like Cyprus and Cyraenea, Italy, and Ephesus joined with those from tiny Nazareth and boastful Jericho? What if the Roman garrison felt threatened by the calls for independence?

What would the high priest do?

What would Governor Pilate do?

“Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord,” the Galileans east of the city chanted.

“From the house of the Lord we bless you,” returned the worshipers from Jerusalem at the west.

Beside me I saw Nicodemus look up