Palm Sunday. The beginning of the end. And He knew. This ^ is Jerusalem. The destination. His last earthly dwelling before His return. And He the first place His foot will trod on that great day. Oh to be in Jerusalem on that day. But this day, this day the city welcomed Him. They praised His name. They shouted, "Hosanna! Hosanna! Blessed is He! Hosanna in the highest!" And yet...

The Mount of Olives. Here he waited for His disciples to find a colt for Him to ride when He entered the city. He waited and they brought Him a young colt, one that had never been ridden before. In my Esther study, I learned that in Persian times riding the King's personal horse was seen as a great honor. Not just a one time honor, but the kingship was passing to the chosen to ride the royal beasts. Jesus Christ did not need His kingship passed down to Him from another. His kingship had been established. He was riding under His Father's authority on a colt that had never been ridden before. He was establishing His own kingdom eternal.


The whole city stirred upon His entrance. Everyone knew He was there. Everyone knew someone important had arrived. The crowds screamed His name. Everyone came out to greet their new guest. Cloaks were torn off and thrown on the ground so the feet of the colt were not touching the dirt of the ground. More still, palm branches were thrown across the street where cloaks were lacking. People went to great lengths to honor the Most Holy One. They were so sure of His greatness. He had come to free them. He had come to save their souls. He had come performing miracles by His Father's name. He loved them, each and every one.

Where was His first stop? Where did He go to first thing? What was of utmost importance? First on the agenda? He went to the temple. He went to commune with His Father. Such a weight must have been on His shoulders. Quite literally, the weight of the whole world. All that was, all that had been, and all that was to be. He needed strength. He needed peace. He needed to be with His Father.

They praised His name. They hoped He was the One, their Savior. "But we had hoped he was the one who was to redeem Israel." What a crowd was gathered on that day to welcome Jesus Christ to Jerusalem. But even if no one had been there shouting out "Hosanna", the rocks would have cried out praises to the Lord. He alone is worthy of all praise and glory and honor. And He will receive it whether we are willing or not.

Look around? It is spring time. The grass is growing, the trees are budding. There are white and pink blossoms all around as a contrast to the deep green foliage. Flowers are sprouting in all shapes and colors. It is truly beautiful. And who created each of these things? Who thought up the exact petals a daffodil would have? And the curves of a tulip? Which trees would ripen first and which would have withstood the cold winter? God our Father and King is the master creator of all things. He is the grand architect. All beauty is in and through Him. It shouts out it's praises to the Lord. The daffodil trumpets boldly the name of the King. The tulip declares His splendor. The trees clap their hands at His majesty. The very rocks of the earth declare His greatness.

Hosanna in the highest. He came to bring peace to men and joy to the world. And they greeted Him with praise.