Up to Jerusalem
A palpable air of expectancy and excitement suffuses the crowd. These Passover pilgrims, gathered near the gates of Jerusalem, are awaiting more than just the annual festivities this year. As they converse among themselves, their eyes frequently turn to the road leading up to the city. What do you think? Will He come to the feast?
Suddenly, a small voice pierces the air. “Hosanna! Hosanna to the Son of David!”
The crowd leaps into action, as if on cue. The men run to cut down branches from the nearby trees. Women spread cloaks along the road. A band of children goes sprinting towards the Figure approaching from a distance. And all begin to cry out with the strains of the great Psalm: “Blessed is He Who comes in the Name of the Lord!”
And Who is it that has caused this great commotion? Who is it that seems to have turned the entire Holy City inside out with excitement? A simple Rabbi, a carpenter by trade, riding towards Jerusalem on the back of a small white donkey. As He draws near, the crowd cheers all the more loudly, waving palm branches and dancing for joy. “Blessed is the kingdom of our father David that is to come!”
A small group of men walk just behind this unlikely celebrity. Confusion, fear, delight, and awe alternate on their faces as they see the multitudes shouting praise for the Teacher from Galilee. The prophecy of Zechariah is echoing in their hearts: Say to daughter Zion, ‘Behold, your king comes to you, meek and riding on an ass … ’
The only one who seems to be immune to the celebratory mood is the Rabbi Himself. His sun-beaten brow is furrowed, His dark eyes gazing sadly over the crowds and towards the city walls. He appears totally untouched by the accolades that resound on every side. “Hosanna! Blessed is He Who comes in the Name of the Lord, the King of Israel!”
A contingent of Pharisees force their way through the crowd until they are walking parallel with the Master. They call out to Him in agitation: “Teacher, rebuke Your disciples!” Such a display of public acclaim is sure to attract the unwanted attention of Rome, after all.
The Rabbi turns to them, His grave expression softening somewhat. He looks around and gestures at the people. “I tell you, if they keep silent, the very stones will cry out!” Unsure what to make of such a response, the Pharisees give Him a defiant glance and then slowly melt back into the crowd.
The procession enters the gates of the city, and the excitement has reached fever pitch. A wild rumor races throughout the multitude — This is the moment! The King has come! Let Him go up to His throne! A confused rush begins as some try to take the impending coronation into their own hands.
The Teacher, however, takes advantage of the chaos to slip off the donkey and steal away. It is not until several hours later that his baffled and exhausted disciples find Him — as usual — in the Temple. He is sitting in one corner of the outer court, leaning against a column. His eyes are closed, and as the Twelve draw near they can hear Him murmuring the words of Hosea: “What can I do with you, Ephraim? What can I do with you, Judah? Your piety is like the morning cloud, like the dew that early passes away …”