I always believe that God will save me.
But I also think I know how that should happen – what that should look like.
The biblical story of Jesus’ “Triumphal Entry” reminds me that God will, most likely, not save me like I think He should.
7When they brought the colt to Jesus and threw their cloaks over it, he sat on it. 8Many people spread their cloaks on the road, while others spread branches they had cut in the fields. 9Those who went ahead and those who followed shouted,
“Hosanna![a]”
“Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”[b]
10“Blessed is the coming kingdom of our father David!”
“Hosanna in the highest!”Mark 11:7-10
I’m not sure why my Bible calls this section “The Triumphal Entry”. Seems a bit more tragic to me. These peasants honestly believed that the kingdom of King David was about to be re-established – that this Man on a donkey would somehow rise up and defeat Caesar.
They cried “Hosanna” (which means “save us”), but they already knew what that would look like.
A political uprising and victory.
But five days later, their hopes would be shattered.
During our own economic collapse, maybe it’s a perfect time to examine our expectations of God. For me, I assume that God will work through some political administration to get America back to where we were four years ago. But the palm branches and the Man on the donkey tell me not to hold my breath.
What if we’re experiencing life in the new “normal”? What if God’s primary concern in saving me has nothing to do with restoring my financial security? What if He’s bringing me to my knees in desperation – the kind of desperation I’ve never experienced as an adult?
What if the ultimate act of God’s love for me is to remove my expectations of Him, so that He can be God, and I can be NOT God? He knows, after all, that the best life I can possibly live comes when I look at the Man on the donkey, cry “Hosanna”, and then refuse to fill that word with my own creative solution.
May we become people of hope, even when God refuses to cooperate with the layers of expectation we unintentionally package with our shouts of “Hosanna”.
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