March 25, 2024

an unlikely view

And he entered Jerusalem and went into the temple. And when he had looked around at everything, as it was already late, he went out to Bethany with the twelve. Mark 11:11

They’d had to walk up to Jerusalem. The journey felt uphill in many ways. Mark chapter 10 depicts Jesus walking ahead of his followers on the road, going up to Jerusalem. A crowd follows at a slight distance, unsure how close they want to be. See, he says to his disciples, we are going up to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man will be delivered to death.

Now the sun has gone down on a day that looked like victory. At Jesus’ instructions, his disciples had borrowed a young colt, and Jesus rode it—over cloaks thrown down on the road, over palm branches strewn in the dirt. As they finally approached the city, no one was holding back. Ahead of him went shouts of “Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” and behind him: “Blessed is the coming kingdom of our father, David!”

Jerusalem: the road was always going to lead here.

As the day and its fervor fade, Jesus enters the Holy City and heads to the temple—and for a few moments, he pauses, looking around.

Have the crowds disbanded, or are they pulsing around him as they have throughout Mark’s gospel? We aren’t told. But someone noticed Jesus noticing, and Mark—who wasn’t there that day—wrote it down. Alone in the crowd, Jesus sees. Imagine him taking it all in: not just the atmosphere and activities of the temple, not just the beauty and importance of the city Luke says he wept over that day. Jesus sees the road they came up, and the road that lies ahead.

Jesus has tried to give his disciples the map, tried to tell them where things go next. But they can’t see what he does.

What does Jesus see?

He sees people. He seems them as a group, and as individuals. He sees their potential, and their brokenness. He sees injustice; he sees it when he looks around the temple that night, runs his hand along the tables he’ll overturn in the morning. He sees the spiritual need buried under religious activity and presentation.

Jesus longs to cure blindness—both physical, and spiritual. The last thing he does in Mark’s gospel before his entry into Jerusalem is to heal a blind beggar on the roadside, who relentlessly cries out for Jesus’ attention. Rabbi, he begs, let me see. And Jesus does. He gives the gift of sight. The blind man knew he was blind. But too often we miss our inability to see.

When we picture Jesus on the night of what we call Palm Sunday, we remember to pause, and look. Take it all in: this view from the beginning of Holy Week. Together, let’s look back through the gospel of Mark so that we can, bravely, like Jesus, look forward toward Good Friday and Easter—and see the people around us.

Today's Prayer: Rabbi, let us see. We don’t want to miss your vision for the world, for our lives, for our families and communities. We don’t want to miss the amazing journey of your ministry on earth, and how it continues today. Help us to get out of the box of our own ideas as we read the story of Jesus. Help us to pause, and look, and see what you see.

Focus on prayer: Each meditation gives you a starting point for a prayer. Begin with the prompt above, and let your words to God continue and become your own.

Meditation by Meghan Blosser


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