An unridden colt

After Mark 11:1-11 

A new king rides

into the city on the colt

ridden by the previous

king, to signify 

the transfer of power.

Choosing an unridden

colt signifies no transfer

of power from one earthly

king to another, but instead

a kingship transferring

from no man, no earthly

institution, but instead

transferring from God.

 

Photograph by Tim Mossholder via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Some Sunday Readings

 

Saved? A sermon for Palm Sunday and Savior of All Who Want More – Mark Daniels.

 

3 Reasons Easter Matters for Your Work – Theology of Work Project.

 

The Light of Hope – Br. Jeremiah Tobin at The Imaginative Conservative.

 

Pagan Easter? The Real Roots of Resurrection Sunday – Michael A.G. Haykin at Desiring God.

 

Notes from Great Lent – Andrew Henry at The Saxon Cross.

 

The Hidden Sorrow of Easter – David Bannon at Front Porch Republic.

The fig tree

After Mark 11:1-14

Hungry, he spies a tree,

a fig tree in full leaf,

suggestive of branches

hanging heavy with fruit.

He searches, but the tree

offers nothing, yields nothing

but leaves, an appearance only,

an invitation without substance,

a mirage, a fraud

and so the curse.

From the cursed fig

to the temple, with its appearance

of wealth and wisdom and worship

but nothing but appearance, a fraud,

a mirage,

and so it joins its brother,

the fig tree.

Photograph by Lynn Greyling via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.

The prophet stares

 

After Mt. 23: 37-39 and Luke 19:41-44 

The prophet stares at the city,

the city with its houses and

palaces, temples and shops

bustling in commerce, filled

by the baying and howling

of animals, a noise

redolent of life. 

He stares, and weeps

at the ignorance of the city,

its deafness and desolation,

its destruction, blood

flowing in the streets,

sufficient to extinguish

the fire. 

Painting: Jesus weeps over Jerusalem, oil on canvas by Enrique Simonet (1892).

The Last Normal Day

It was the last normal day.

During that last week in Jerusalem, Jesus maintained a daily pattern of activity. He teaches at the temple during the day, and then spends each night “on the hill called the Mount of Olives.” On the day of the Unleavened Bread, Jesus does what was customary and expected: He instructs the disciples to go into Jerusalem and make preparations for the Passover.

I find it difficult to insert myself into the “normal” religious rituals of the Passion Week primarily because I am on this side of the cross, and even more importantly, this side of the resurrection. Looking back, everything had significance; each action Jesus took was a sign.

But it was the last normal day. For all of us.

To read the rest of the post jointly authored by Charity Singleton and me, please visit The High Calling.

Anticipating the Metaphor

A day of stillness, and calm.

The sweet, pervasive smell

signals the expense;

the alabaster jar confirms it.

She pours, lightly, slowly,

the sweetness on my head,

and then my feet,

anticipating the metaphor

of washing the feet, using

oil instead of water,

anticipating the preparation

for the tomb, using

oil instead of spices.

The others ask when;

she answers now.

Painting: Jesus at Bethany, painter and year unknown.