A Big Week
A lot can happen in one week. In early March, life went from being fairly normal to grinding to a complete halt. In about a week. There's one thing this is all teaching us, if we “have ears to hear.” We don’t control life, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. In fact, it’s a good thing. I, for one, am grateful that I don’t control life. There’s someone better at that than me. Boy, how a lot can happen in one week.
There was a week like that about 2,000 years ago (1,991–1,993 years ago to be roughly precise, I think). Jesus knew this would be a big week; however, I’m not sure how many others did. I’m not sure the crowds that welcomed him into Jerusalem had any idea, even though they were shouting “Hosanna!” Hosanna means “Save us!” They were shouting it loudly, feverishly, and in all sincerity, even if they didn’t completely understand the ground they were standing on. They meant it.
We mean it. That’s what we’re shouting right now. This COVID-19 crisis has us on our knees. We’re crying out to God “Save us!” We’re shouting loudly, feverishly, and in all sincerity, even if we don’t completely understand the ground we stand on. Just like those crowds nearly 2,000 years ago, we can’t always see before it happens how much can happen in a week.
There is light in the distance. That week 1,991–1,993 years ago ended with the reconciliation of the world to God and a sneak preview of the beauty that awaits us. Everything changed in a week. Jesus was crucified. Jesus descended to the dead. Jesus was raised. God saved us, just like those crowds asked. However, the salvation they got is nothing like the salvation they were asking for. They probably wanted to run their own government. What they got was the door swung wide open to every hope and dream they never even realized they had.
There is light in the distance. It’s better than whatever we’re hoping for right now. We just don’t understand the ground we stand on completely. It might be a long time. It might be a week. You never know.
Your Fellow Minister in Christ,