Dear Jesus, where do I stand? Where do I stand among the crowds this Palm Sunday as you ride into Jerusalem? You know why You are coming into the city, to die. Not just to die, as we all must die, but to die as a ransom for us all. That should compel me to watch, to stand among the crowds, but am I enthusiastic? Do I stand at the forefront, waving palm branches, “Yea, Jesus! Go get ‘em. Save us. Start the revolution. Give us what we want.” Or do I stand back, taking it all in. I’m here but I don’t really get it. Even with 2000 years of hindsight, all that begins this Sunday is more than I can comprehend. I think I stand in the back, in the back with the tax collector. Life has reduced me and enlarged the mystery. “Lord, be merciful to me a sinner.” How precious is the sum of Thy thoughts to me!
Jesus, how do I stand? Am I looking down at my phone, checking my mail, texting friends, pondering my brackets? Am I addicted? And if my phone is put away, are my thoughts still swirling? We’ve been conditioned by the crowds to always be full of thought, full of opinions, full of ourselves. How do I stand, as judge of all that passes by me or do I stand with my head emptied of myself and of my business? I stand, filled with wishes like Mary of old, wishing that I might sit and You might teach me, put words into my heart that fit my life, words that correct me so gently that I take no offence but welcome Your teaching. How do I stand as Holy Week begins?
I’m rushing. First, I need Your Spirit to give me resolve to treat these coming days as different days, days that command my silent attention. You endured Holy week for me. Convict me now to give this week to You. “Grant that I Your passion view with repentant grieving. Let me not bring shame to You by unholy living. How could I refuse to shun every sinful pleasure since for me God’s only Son suffered without measure?”