The beginning of Holy Week always fills me with a sense of awe, that God would love us so much, He finalized the plan of salvation by sacrificing His Son so that we might live the life He wants for us.
As an earthly mortal, and a mother, I am sure I would do anything for my children, sacrificing myself for them in a minute. That’s what mothering is all about. But, would I willingly sacrifice them? Now that’s a call to question, isn’t it?
I think of Abraham in the Old Testament, who was told by God his legacy would be heirs greater in number than even the stars, even the grains of sand on the seashore. Imagine. But in his earthly mortal eyes, his beloved Isaac was to become, at God’s command, a human sacrifice. We know from the perspective of history, this was a test, and a precursor to the sacrifice of Christ, but just imagine Abraham’s sorrow at the very thought of his beloved Isaac not being there to embrace him and call him father, and in the bigger picture, not being evidence of God’s previous promise.
Again, I’m only mortal, but I can imagine what Abraham must have felt giving his son the news that he needed to be tied to the top of the altar.
The sacrifice of Christ on the cross by a loving Father is such a scenario.
Is there greater drama? Is there greater love? Is there greater power of understanding eternal purposes in earthly events?
I think not.
Hosanna, indeed, for He comes in the name of the Lord. And our God is always good. (poem follows)
Palm Sunday poem:
Green stripped palms
Waving to shouts of
Hosanna!
Carpets of them
Trampled by crowds
Hosanna!
Jubilation!
Welcome conquering king!
Hosanna!
They would wrinkle and die
Curled edges torn and worn
By later in the week
Replaced by plaited thorns
Even God’s gardens wept.
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