King Jesus Rides In

Luke 19:28-44
3.29.26
Matt Goodale

In our story Jesus rides into Jerusalem like a king. The crowd is cheering. Palm branches are waving and people praising God. Everything feels like victory. It is a triumphant entry by a different kind of king.

And then, Jesus starts crying. Why, we might wonder, is Jesus weeping at his own parade?

This isn’t the first time we’ve seen Jesus weep.

At Lazarus’ tomb…Jesus wept. Lazarus was a friend and Jesus comes too late to heal his friend. And so he cries. I’ve always found this strange, because Jesus knows he’s going to bring Lazarus back from the dead. He even told his disciples on their way there. He knows that he will raise Lazarus, and yet, when he arrives and hears of his death, he weeps.

And now the same thing is happening on his triumphant ride into Jerusalem. Yes, there is death and suffering still to come in the week ahead, but Jesus knows that it ends in life! Jesus knows it ends in victory! And yet, he looks at the city and he weeps. He doesn’t weep for himself, but for the city.

Why would the God of the universe weep, even though he knows that the story ends in life and healing?

Maybe it’s because no matter how the story ends, death and suffering still breaks God’s heart…maybe Jesus weeps because victory doesn’t erase heartbreak.

Jesus knows resurrection is coming, and yet, Jesus weeps because the world does not match up with his dream for it.

We know from the very beginning, Genesis 1, that God dreams of a world where there is no suffering, there is no death, there is no shame…where everyone is loved and included and taken care of. And so even though, Jesus knows how the story will end…in victory…he weeps because there is still so much in the world that still breaks his heart.

Maybe you know this feeling. Maybe you also weep because the world does not match up with your dreams for it. As you scroll your phones or flip through the channels, you can’t help but feel a desperate longing for a world that is better. For a world filled with people who actually cared, who did the right thing, who valued every life.

And maybe you’ve had moments like this in your own life as well…when your hopes and dreams didn’t match up with reality.

Maybe it was with a job or your kids or your finances. Maybe growing older hasn’t panned out the way you hoped.

I think we all know what this grief feels like…the gap between what is and what we know deep down should be.

Jesus weeps for that gap.

And I think this is quite extraordinary. Because in this moment Jesus is revealing what God is like. Jesus reveals a God who meets us where we ache. It means that when something goes wrong, God’s tears fall to the ground with ours. We have a God who mourns what is not yet whole.

And yet, there is something profound that Jesus weeps, and he still keeps going. He doesn’t turn around. He doesn’t abandon the city. The doesn’t throw his arms in the air and give up, and he also doesn’t suddenly decide to ride in violently and purge everything that is wrong with the city.

He rides into the city, into the heartbreak. Because Jesus knows that victory doesn’t come by avoiding the brokenness—but by entering it. And I think that this moment…Jesus’s triumphant entry with its mix of hope and sadness is a beautiful example for us in what it looks like to live amidst brokenness today, while clinging to hope for what is coming.

Because as Christians, we believe that death is already defeated, and that wholeness and healing and resurrection will be the end of the story…and yet, we look around like Jesus did and we weep. Because though we hold onto hope for how the story will end, we are not living in it now. And I think Jesus shows us the way forward…a way that shows us how to weep and still hold onto hope without falling into despair. Because there is so much to despair about today.

And I was reminded this week of the story of another king…this one from Tolkien’s timeless classic, The Lord of the Rings. If you’re new here, I’m sorry, but I am obsessed with this story and you will come to find that I reference it all the time because I think it is beautiful and full of timeless truths.

There’s a character who is a king of sorts…Denethor. He is in charge of protecting Gondor, the last great city from the clutches of the enemy. If Gondor falls, so does the whole world.

And Denethor has this magical object called a Palantir…it’s basically a crystal ball that shows him every bad thing that could happen to Gondor. And the Palantir gives him lots of useful information that helps in his protection of the city. But eventually it drives him to despair. Because he sees too much that breaks his heart and he feels powerless to do anything about it. So he gives in to despair, runs away and perishes. He could not see victory at the end and so he wept and gave up his life without hope.

And every one of us has a Palantir in our pocket…a magical object that shows us every terrible thing that is happening everywhere and always. The smartphone. And yes, it gives us helpful information, but when we are constantly bombarded by images and stories of things that make us weep and that we have no power to do anything about…that will lead us to despair.

The gap in the world between how things are and how they should be is real. Jesus shows us how to weep and how to carry on with hope.

He is not ignorant of all the broken things going on in the city that he loves, and yet, he carries on with hope. I’ve wondered this week, how?

Because I see and hear from so many people…and I feel it in myself: a growing despair at what I see through my Palantir going on in the world. Hope is hard to come by nowadays. So how do we follow King Jesus and not King Denethor?

Well, I think what Jesus does next after his triumphant ride is everything.

Because after the parade, after his tears, and after seeing everything that is broken in the city…do you know what he does?

He doesn’t try to fix Rome. He doesn’t try to solve everything at once. He attends to the people who are right in front of him. He sits down at a table with his friends. He shares a meal, washes their feet and tells them, “Love one another.”

It’s so small…so disappointingly small!

Jesus, the city is burning outside! It’s filled with corrupt leaders, people are hurting, there is no end in sight…and you’re eating a meal with your friends??

But maybe that’s the point.

Because while Denethor stares into the Palantir—in a room by himself, overwhelmed by everything he cannot control—Jesus turns his attention to what is right in front of him: a table, a towel and a few people he loves. And he is faithful there.

And I wonder if that’s how we hold onto hope too.

Not by fixing everything or carrying the whole weight of the world right in our pocket. But by doing what is right in front of us.

You don’t have to heal the whole world this week. But maybe you can check in on a friend. Maybe you can sit at a table with your family and be really present. Maybe you can forgive someone or choose kindness when it would be easy not to.

We’re not going to solve world hunger, but we can try help the people here in Cheney who are hungry with our food pantry. Bringing a few cans to church doesn’t feel like it’s going to change the world but it makes a difference for those people who pick them up.

We’re not going to fix national policies overnight, but we can take care of our neighbors.

These all seem like such small things. But they are holy.

Because in the kingdom of God, they are not small at all. Because every act of love, every moment of faithfulness, every choice to care for the person right in front of you is a participation in the victory that Jesus has already won. It is all an act of defiance against despair and that which makes us weep.

Because Jesus shows us time and time again, that the kingdom of God doesn’t just come in grand, triumphant moments. It comes in quiet acts of love. In meals shared, feet washed and in people choosing again and again to love what is right in front of them.

So yes, as followers of Jesus, we weep. We feel the gap between what is and what should be. We long for Jesus’ dream for the world to come true. But we do not give in to despair.

Because like Jesus, we keep going. We know how the story ends, and we know that every small act of love and care, right here and right now, matters.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s how hope takes root in the world again.

Amen and may it be so.