The Day Of Palms

SUN., APR. 8, 1990, 6:02 AM
FARM, STUDY

Today is the celebration of that Hallelujah event, the Day of Palms. You know the story: I, as Jesus, had decided to come into Jerusalem, that mighty city. I was becoming rather well known, and so the entrance into Jerusalem was at least somewhat expected. I had mixed feelings about what would happen. If My entrance into the city was low key and rather unnoticed I would not be perceived as posing a threat to the Pharisees. But such a quiet entrance would also symbolize that My message of judgment and mercy and the need for service to the downtrodden was not being heard and heeded.

On the other hand if I was recognized and acclaimed I could feel that My message and Myself were being accepted and valued. Yet this would also bring forth the fears and the wrath of the religious establishment. For while they talked of the coming of the Messiah they really did not want such a disturbing happening. The Messiah was desirable as an abstract hope, but not as an itinerant preacher who had grown up in Nazareth.

I knew how it would be, and yet I had My role to play. I didn’t stage the entrance so that there would be a Palm Sunday in American Presbyterian churches this many years later. I lived that moment for itself, with only a mild sense of its historical significance. I was both the lamb going to slaughter and the strong, conquering Messiah. I had to be both meek and powerful… and that’s not easy, even for the true Messiah!

I had to use My seldom-employed supernatural powers to arrange for the burro on which I would ride. Again I had to have a proper balance. If I was to be seen as a King I would not just walk into the city. If I was to ride in, it had to be on a lowly beast, not an ostentatious one. It would be too “flashy” to create the animal magically, but there was no natural way, so I arranged for the unlikely acceptance of the disciples just taking the designated burro.

Then came the entrance. The enthusiasm began to build, and I did not reject it. The cry of Hosanna was infectious. It became a common shout of acclamation. I was at least a possible Messiah, and some truly wanted this liberation that the Messiah stood for. I knew of the possible consequences, and so My spirit was alternately jubilant and disturbed. I was being acclaimed, and yet I knew that if I encouraged this favor it would provoke the ire of those in religious power. I wanted to live and be the Messiah that they should have, and yet I also knew I must be the suffering servant. I was living in and enjoying the present but with knowledge of what the future was likely to be. It was a ride full of mixed feelings. For, as Jesus, I had human feelings that often superceded My sense of being One with the Father.

You have an underlying sense of oneness with Me, the Holy Spirit and, hence, with Jesus the Christ and with God Almighty. Still, as a human you mostly react and speak as if this were not so… that you are a somewhat weak person, struggling to live life as well as possible, but often falling short of even your own expectations. You have accepted Grace, and therefore you are accepted and loved, unconditionally. You know this, and still you worry about the consequences of life events, here in the earth. As a human I had a similar mixed perception of life… and of this Hosanna happening.

Branches of leaves were laid along My path, as were articles of clothing (which frightened the burro, incidentally). The symbol was that the people accepted Me and wanted My way to be an easy one. They were giving to Me, that I might give to them. I looked into eyes that were sincere, and others that were just carried away by the excitement. And I saw some were worried, and still others that were becoming hostile. And I wanted them all, not just those who came easily.