Not the Triumphal Entry We Expect

When our family lived in Vietnam, the biggest holiday of the year was Lunar New Year, which is called Tet in Vietnam. The lead-up to Tet was full of activity, similar to the week before Christmas. But Tet focuses all the holiday energy of Christmas and New Year’s into a single day. People prepare both for a midnight feast on Lunar New Year, but also for three days of eating together and visiting friends. 

But for us as foreigners, the first day of Tet was a strange day. A large portion of people in Hanoi would travel outside the capital in order to spend the holiday with extended family — so that the city was nearly empty. For one day a year, there was no traffic on the roads and the city was silent. It was as if the massive build-up to Tet arrived with a whimper instead of a bang. The week before would be jam-packed with holiday preparation, building toward a crisis, and then everyone would disappear. It was like Aesop’s fable in which a mountain smokes and trembles as if it will explode, but all that comes out is a mouse.

I can’t help but feel that way when I read about Jesus’s triumphal entry on Palm Sunday. There is a huge build-up. Lazarus has been raised from the dead. Jesus has been preaching around Judea and Galilee, and now makes his way definitely to Jerusalem. People stream into the streets and lay down their cloaks in the road as Jesus rides toward Jerusalem on a donkey. They wave palm branches and shout, “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” They call him the “Son of David,” indicating their hope that he is the coming king, the Messiah.

And when we get to the end of that day, what happens? According to Mark’s gospel, Jesus looked around at the temple buildings and then went out of the city to spend the night since “it was already late” (Mark 11:11).

The biggest public event in his ministry ends in an early evening retirement to get some sleep. And we know what happens during the next week. The Jewish leaders form a conspiracy to arrest him away from the crowds. They bring him to trial and hand him over to be crucified.

But, by the standards of the world a triumphal entry should convey power. The Nazi war machine marching through the streets of Paris in 1940 was a triumphal entry. Or Julius Caesar reporting his victories when he returned to Rome: “I came, I saw, I conquered.” These triumphs give our fallen human minds and hearts just what we want—certainty, inevitability, confidence.

And that is exactly what Jesus does not give in human terms. It takes spiritual eyes to see that everything said on Palm Sunday is true: He is so great that if the people did not shout for him, then the stones would cry out (Luke 19:40). He is the king, and the words of the prophet Zechariah are true,  “Fear not, daughter of Zion: behold, your king is coming” (Jn 12:15). 

And yet he comes in an unexpected way. He announces the promises, but also waits to bring their complete fulfillment. He raises expectations and then calls us to trust him in faith.

Palm Sunday reminds us that we live in a time between, in the overlap of the ages. There is security in Christ, and yet God chooses not to settle everything for us right now in the way that we would like.

That is the way of the cross in this age. Announcement, and waiting. Great encouragement, but not complete fulfillment. 

The triumphal entry tells us two things: (1) You do have a king, and the whole creation will one day cry out to acknowledge him as such, (2) but, that time is not yet.

There is a temptation to expect our plans on this earth to accomplish all that we want them to. To expect that Jesus won’t leave us with anxieties or worries. To expect that we will escape from suffering and live in comfort (or at least just a bit more comfort than we currently have).

I have been struck recently by how the Apostle Paul needed faith in the midst of uncertainty (2 Cor. 4:8-9):

“8 We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; 9 persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; 10 always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies.” 

Did you hear that the apostle is “perplexed”? Have you been perplexed this week?

Could we surrender to Jesus today that plan of ours that we really treasure, and that if it didn’t come about, we would be upset with our creator and Lord? Can we give it to him and say, “I believe that Jesus is the True King! But I know I may not see it clearly in this area of my life today, next week, next year, or in my lifetime.”

Such a call to surrender ourselves to God also leads us to confess our sins, let’s pray.

Holy Father, we praise you with the words of Palm Sunday: Hosanna! Save us, O Lord. Blessed is Jesus our Messiah who comes in the name of the Lord, even the King of Israel! We confess that you alone are worthy of glory, honor, and power, for Jesus Christ was slain, and by his blood he ransomed people for You from every tribe and language and people and nation.

And yet we confess that in our lives, in our church, and in the world around us, we often struggle to see it, and we wait for your return and for the full revelation of your kingdom. Give us faith to trust in your timing, and to surrender our plans to your sovereign will. 

Remind us how we can come humbly before you in this time of silent confession…