On Sunday, we rejoiced as we retold the story of your triumphant ride into the city on the back of a donkey. Hailed as a King. Our King. Glorified. Revered. Worshiped. We waved palm branches. We celebrated. We cheered.
Hosanna! Hosanna! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna! Hosanna in the highest!
As we sweep up the palm branches left strewn along the parade route, we remember the rest of the story.
We know what is on the horizon. We know what we did.
There is none like you. You turned everything on its head. And as much as we wanted change, we were also afraid of change. Change brings the unknown. Uncertainty.
We could not wrap our minds around the new reality of your reign. And so, we let old habits and reactions take hold, instead of letting you take root.
The crowd turned cold. The shouts of jubilation became jeers. Anger built. A mob formed. You knew what was coming next. Still, you stayed. You took your place and played your part. You gave your all for us.
Crucify Him! Crucify Him! Crucify Him!
Oh, God. Forgive us. We know not what we do.
Take root in us. Renew us with the tenderness of spring growth. Strengthen us so that our faith is You. For you alone are holy. You alone are good.