Faith | Walking Through Holy Week

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Three words are always on my mind as I walk through Holy Week.

Hosanna.
Tetelestai. 
Hallelujah. 

Palm Sunday, the day we celebrate and remember when Jesus the King had His triumphal entry into Jerusalem, is a moment of celebration, filled with shouting and praise. I think a lot about the people who were there to greet Him as He came into town. I try to put myself there among them, excited for the arrival of the one true King. I think I would push and fight my way through the crowd for a good spot along the road. Clinging tight to my palm branch, as I anxiously await the first views of the young donkey that carries Jesus. 

My palm branch, when waved, declares Jesus as King. A symbol of hope, but also a symbol of what I lay down before my King and a symbol of praise. Excited to see Him, I wave it shouting, "Hosanna!" But before He reaches my spot along the road, I lay it down. Along with it, I lay down my sin, my sorrow, my shame, my worry, my doubts. I lay it all down. He will lay down His life. My palm branch now on the ground, with the King only steps away. He rides by, my palm branch crushed by the hooves of the donkey. Just as my sin would be crushed a few days later.

Jesus the King came to restore. He saw a tree with no fruit and a temple of prayer turned into a den of robbers. Worship and prayer and righteousness were replaced with business transactions and money exchanges and no faith at all. A tree with no fruit then cursed and withered. Yet, a hint of faith still to be found there, to trust that God will remove whatever hinders us from coming to Him. Christ the Son found Himself soon going to a tree. Where the work of dying on the cross would fill the chasm that separated. And the veil that once hung to separate, would be torn. 

Jesus urged the disciples to stay awake. And that plea to stay awake echoes to us still today. To focus on the reason of His coming. To take part in the proclamation of the gospel. We remember a woman's sacrifice of love, as she anointed Jesus for His impending burial. An action of love, not a waste, but a beautiful thing.

Then, an upper room prepared with a feast. A meal partaken and a covenant established. Followed by a prayer cried out for a cup to be removed, as reality is accepted by Jesus the King. 

Darkness grew as light continued to slip away. 

Jesus the King was led to Pilate. Silently He stood in front of crowds, as they yelled for Him to be crucified. Delivered to the people, He was beaten, mocked, and placed on a cross. Hanging on a tree with people yelling for Him to save Himself and to come down. But Jesus, the beautiful King, He stayed there. As the sin of the world fell upon Him and as darkness covered the land. His final cry came. And with His death, the veil was torn. The earth shook. Rocks split. Finished. Tetelestai. 

Christ a propitiation for our sanctification. 

He was put in a tomb where He wouldn't stay. He couldn't be held there. Three days He would rise. Resurrected and fully alive. Death absolutely defeated. And what I would have laid down before Jesus the King when He came into the city on a donkey, is replaced with new life. Joy. Courage. Freedom. Peace. Comfort. Assurance.

Hallelujah to Jesus the King who has come and is coming again!

Hallelujah. 

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