What Was He Thinking?

The Rev. Whitworth Ferguson III
Manassas Presbyterian Church
Manassas, Virginia
April 1, 2007
Palm Sunday

What Was He Thinking?
Mark 11:1-11/Litany of the Palms
Zechariah 9:9-10

We can picture it, can’t we?
Jerusalem 2000 years ago,
hot, dry, the sun hanging red in the sky
from the clouds of dust kicked up by the relentless parade
of people and animals,
thousands, tens of thousands
teeming into the city for the Passover.

The Temple was the focal point for everyone.
The din of coins the backdrop,
as the moneychangers did brisk business,
taking coins from lands far and wide
and exchanging them for the local currency,
less their steep markup of course,
so pilgrims could buy doves and other animals for sacrifices.
The coins rattled
and blood flowed steadily, copiously all week long.

And then there in the hazy sunshine, the noise, the chaos
came a man, riding into the city,
riding on the back of a donkey.
riding along slowly, deliberately.

Even the youngest of children looking at the scene would have
remembered their Scripture from the prophet Zechariah:
“Rejoice greatly, O daughter Zion!
Shout aloud, O daughter Jerusalem!
Lo your king comes to you
triumphant and victorious is he,
humble and riding on a donkey, on a colt,
the foal of a donkey….
He shall command peace to the nations.”
(Zechariah 9:9-10)

But could this man be the one?
The one they were waiting for, praying for?

Crowds ran before Jesus,
walked along beside him,
and danced behind him,
all shouting and carrying on.
The gospel accounts differ as to the size of the crowds.
Matthew says “very large”,
while Mark suggests a much smaller group.
John is the one who tells us that they were palm branches
the people waved.
Luke tells us nothing about the people shouting out “Hosanna”.

Whatever the size of the crowd,
the people were filled with excitement,
eager to wave their branches,
eager to shout out, sing out,
for they were filled with hope that this Jesus was the one:
the Son of David, the great warrior King,
who had come to reestablish the great nation of Israel.
“Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David!”
(Mark 11:10)

The fact that Jesus was on a donkey,
rather than on a mighty steed,
the fact that he brandished neither the sword nor the shield
of a great warrior seemed to escape their notice.

But it didn’t matter; they were there for a celebration.
It was Passover, a great holiday,
and the city was bursting with people
from throughout Judea, Samaria, Galilee,
and far-flung lands.
There was even someone from the city of Cyrene,
almost a thousand miles to the west
on the north coast of Africa.
The faithful had come to remember that day
more than 1200 years earlier,
when the angel of death passed over the houses
of the children of Israel.
That day when the children of Israel were freed
from centuries of slavery in Egypt,
freed to begin their journey following Moses into the wilderness
and then on to the Promised Land.

Can you picture the scene?
People shouting, children laughing, dogs barking,
the clouds of dust kicked up by the feet of
thousands as they shuffled through the streets.

But turn your gaze away from the people for a moment
and focus your attention on the man astride the donkey.
What was he doing?
Was he waving to people as he rode along?
Did he have any palm branches in his hand?
Was he smiling, singing, joining in the revelry?

Look at his face.
Look at his eyes.
Look into his eyes.
What was he thinking?
What was he thinking as he rode along?
What was he thinking as he looked at those faces,
the men, women, and children, dancing, laughing,
shouting, palm branches in hand?

Had we been there and had we looked at that sun-baked face,
I don't think we would have been able to figure out
what Jesus was thinking.
I think his face would have been inscrutable,
a face that would have told us nothing
as he took in the scene around him.

Was he thinking,
“Do they know what they are asking for as they shout ‘Hosanna’?
Don’t they know that that’s why my Father in Heaven sent me,
to do just that, to save them?”

Perhaps he was thinking about scripture,
God’s words spoken through the prophet Isaiah,
“Who among you fears the Lord,
and obeys the voice of the servant?
Who walks in darkness and has no light?
…Listen to me, you who seek the Lord!” (Isaiah 50:10)

His mind might have been on the 12
who had come into the city with him.
They had such porous faith,
so solid one moment, so weak the next.
They’d been with him day after day,
heard his teachings, watched him,
and still he didn’t even have to look in their eyes
to know what they were thinking;
he knew they were afraid,
afraid that even now they were attracting too much attention,
afraid of the centurions,
afraid of the Temple leaders.

Perhaps he was thinking that all those who were celebrating
that afternoon would abandon him before week's end,
voices that were shouting out,
“Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord,”
would in just a few days be shouting “Crucify! Crucify!”
Others who couldn’t be silenced at that moment
in their exuberance would soon be still as stone.
And still others, so eager to join in the spectacle today
would simply melt into the crowds,
and disappear into the darkness.

What about you?
What are thinking as we begin Holy Week?
Are you thinking,
how nice to have a few days off from work or school?
Are you thinking how much you have to do
to get ready for next weekend?
Are you thinking that the weather forecast doesn’t look
very promising for the end of the week?

It is my hope that you are you thinking about what you will do
to walk with Jesus this week;
To walk with him through this Holy Week,
walk with him by reading the Bible,
remembering the stories,
celebrating the Passover,
and standing at the foot of the cross.

It is my hope that you are thinking about the fact
that you cannot get to Easter
without going through Good Friday;
That you cannot get to the Resurrection
without going through the Crucifixion.

This is a week for quiet, for reflection,
for thoughtfulness,
for thinking,
for thinking about the life of our Lord Jesus Christ,
for thinking about his death, his death for you and me,
so that next Sunday we can joyfully
shout out “He is risen”
as we celebrate his resurrection.

When you come to this table in a few minutes,
I encourage you to come thoughtfully
thinking about our Lord,
thinking about that week;
thinking about what he might have thought
had his gaze fallen on you along that route,
and looked into your eyes on that hazy, hot afternoon,
that first Palm Sunday.
What would he have been thinking?
AMEN