In the yard, a crowd had gathered. Travelers coming down the road had stopped to investigate the scene. Word had spread ahead of them into town. Excitement was mounting. Two men leading a female donkey and her male colt stopped in the road and removed their cloaks, spreading them over the back of the colt. Other men stepped forward and followed suit, each removing their outer garments and placing them like saddle blankets on the colt. To the colt's credit, he remained docile though close to his mother's flank. His ears twitched, and he rolled his eyes toward the gate and the man emerging from the house.
He was not a tall man, nor outstandingly handsome. If he was anything at all, he was average in height and build and features. He stood a few inches over five feet, dark hair and beard around a sun-darkened olive-skinned complexion. His eyes were dark but bright, full of both strength and compassion, and he acknowledged the crowd of individuals with a glance that took them all in. He smiled warmly, especially at the crowd of men immediately around the colt and its mother, at the cluster of women that stood together nearby. Then stepping into the clasped hands of one of his friends, he swung his other leg over the back of the colt and sat comfortably astride his untried mount.
The enthusiasm of the crowd had reached a boiling point, and when they saw him mounted on his colt, they erupted in shouts of acclamation. Someone grabbed a palm branch and stripped it from its tree, waving it jubilantly in the air. Others did the same, and soon there were hundreds of palm branches shimmering in the early afternoon sun. One of his disciples took the reins of the mother donkey and began to lead her down the road, the colt tethered to her walked amiably along. The other eleven disciples formed a proud and protective circle, other close friends and relatives before and behind. The cheers and cries of the multitude were deafening.
Suddenly, a man stepped into their path and pulled his cloak from his shoulders, throwing it across the master's path. Without prompting, other cloaks were thrown down, so that the colt walked on a precious carpet of cloth instead of the dust of the road to Jerusalem, and in front of him and behind, and all around, a song went up from the throats and hearts of that happy throng!
Hosanna!
Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!
Blessed is the Kingdom of our father David
that comes in the name of the Lord!
Hosanna to the son of David!
The King of Israel!
Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord!
Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!
Hosanna in the highest!
Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!
Imagine the thunderous adulation and praise of a few thousand pilgrims as they heralded the coming of their king! The noise was such that the crowds in Jerusalem, already taxing the limits of the city, burst from the gates and joined in the celebration. A two-mile parade led the way into Jerusalem, over the crest of the Mount of Olives and down its descent, and behind them came thousands more, circling around the mountain and across the Kidron Valley, through the glorious Eastern gate and right into the outside courts of the great Temple, and all of them lifting up the songs of highest praise for the one called Jesus the Messiah!
It kinda puts our worship services to shame.
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