LENT WK 4: WHAT KIND OF KING DO YOU WANT?
One of the rhythms that I have leaned into in the past several years is getting up early in the morning before my wife and kids. I enjoy this time of quiet, of coffee, of reading or praying or just taking in the silence. In this early spring season the silence most mornings is tempered by the sound of the many birds making their early morning quest to my bird feeder. One morning recently the birdsong was loud enough sufficient to distract me from my silent prayers.
But, as I paid attention, it occurred to me that these birds were singing their songs of praise to God and they were both full-throated and whole-hearted. What else can they do? They have been made by the Creator and have no choice but to trust God’s provision for them each day. Their songs are authentic songs of thanks and praise, with no hesitation or guile. We could learn a lot from the birds.
In the same way my young children come to me and ask for things—for food, for drink, to play with them or to watch them—and usually the things they ask of me or observations they make about people and life are unfiltered and unhindered by the layers of politeness or pretense we have adapted so well as adults. They possess an innocence and honesty that we long to reclaim when we are older.
No wonder, when Jesus taught, he talked about trusting like the birds and entering the kingdom like little children. There is a way of seeing God and trusting God that the birds and children get that I often miss.
When Jesus entered Jerusalem riding on a donkey the crowds roared with excitement. Jesus’ action of riding into the heart of the city on a donkey, the way every king of Judah before had ever done, sent a clear signal to everyone about who he was. Shouts of joy rang out, branches were cut and waved, and cloaks thrown down in the road. I’m sure many got caught up and carried away by the crushing crowd, whipped into a frenzy with political and religious groupthink about just who this was entering the city and what was about to happen. They knew where this was heading and what was coming.
I wonder what it was like for Jesus as he rode along that day and looked into the eyes of jubilant people shouting his praises, knowing that in a few days time their shouts would turn to jeers, their “Hosannas” into “Crucify him!”? The gospel writer did not record Jesus’s thoughts but perhaps it was “forgive them Father, for they know not what they do.”
But lest I judge the people there that day too harshly, I am reminded that Jesus is too often not the kind of king I am searching for either. When things look like they are going my way, when I am confident and it seems the wind of God’s favor is blowing at my back, how easy it is to grab my palm branch and wave my praises to him. Oh yes, he is certainly the king I want because he will fix everything in my life, meet my needs, will increase my tribe and make things work again. Those are the days I shout “Hosanna” for the king I have created for myself.
But what about on the days of disappointment, of disillusionment, of dryness—the ordinary life we live— and the call Jesus gives to me to follow him down to death, down to the cross? How easily I turn away, how easily I get lost in my distractions, my resentments, my disappointments and my own sense of entitlement. How easily I’m “prone to wander…prone to leave the God I love.”
Lord have mercy on me in these days for missing who you really are. Give me the grace to notice the areas that my life is incongruent with yours. Give me a wholeheartedness that comes from being with you. Give me the grace to experience your love and mercy in a deeper way this season. My desire is for you Lord. “Here’s my heart, Lord, take and seal it, seal it for thy courts above.”