The path that Jesus took to get to Jerusalem had him traveling from Bethany to Bethphage on the Mount of Olives and then took a route into Jerusalem likely going through the Sheep Gate. Which gate he entered is not recorded in Scripture, but there is a logical and spiritual reason for thinking he entered through this particular gate. Of course, the other route he could have taken was through the Eastern Gate. It would have been more direct but likely not the route most of the pilgrims took if they had a lamb for Passover with them as they would need to have the lamb inspected by the priests to ensure it was without blemish to offer as their paschal lamb, and they would need to enter through the Sheep Gate to have this inspection done by the priests.

Now for a few more details of Jesus’ trip from Bethany to Jerusalem and its temple. Jesus and his disciple arrive at the home of Lazarus, Martha, and Mary in Bethany six days before Passover. Lazarus had been raised from the dead only a few months earlier. That evening, a feast is held at Lazarus’ house. Many heard that Jesus was there and came to see both him as well as Lazarus. This also upset the Jewish leaders that so many people were accepting Christ because of Lazarus being raised form the dead.

Mary, Lazarus’ sister, anoints Jesus’ feet as a testament of her understanding that Jesus was going to soon die (Jn 12:3-7). She seemed to have understood Jesus’ message better than many of his other disciples as the others still didn’t understand that in just a few days, he would be put to death. Jesus and his disciples stay with Lazarus through Sabbath. [As a side note, this same thing occurred two days before Passover in Bethany at the house of a former leper named Simon (Mt 26:1-6). The woman, this time anointing Jesus’ head, isn’t named. Could it have been the event as presented in the gospel of John? Possibly, but the days and locations are different. It had to have been a woman close to Jesus to understand what was going to happen to him as even his disciples did not understand what Jesus was saying about his death.]

The next day was Nassan 10th, likely a Sunday. Jesus and his disciples travel from Bethany to Bethphage on the Mount of Olives and likely join hundreds of others traveling to Jerusalem to get ready for Passover.

Jesus tells two of his disciples to go into Bethphage and retrieve a donkey and its colt (Mt 21:1-3). The colt had never been ridden on, but the colt remained calm for Jesus to ride him. This in itself was a miracle.

The disciples and the pilgrims put their cloaks on the animal for Jesus to sit on and spread them on the ground for the donkey carrying Jesus to walk on. Others gathered palm branches and began waving them and praising Jesus (Mt 21:8-9). They did this all the way to Jerusalem. The Old Testament records this practice of anointed kings. We have such a practice done for Jehu when he was announced as the new king of Israel (2Ki 9:12-13).

Many of the pilgrims quoted parts of Psalm 118 during their praising of Jesus which is a Messianic psalm, especially verses 25 and 26 which states, “Lord, save us! [Hosanna] Lord, grant us success! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord. From the house of the Lord we bless you.” When the people sang, “Hosanna,” they were saying, “Lord save us.” It is clear they were singing that Jesus was their Messiah. Yet, when they said, “save us,” they were implying a physical saving and not the spiritual saving that Jesus had in mind.

When on the Mount of Olives, Jesus pauses and weeps over Jerusalem knowing the outcome, his rejection, and the destruction that Jerusalem would face in less than forty years (Lk 19:41-44).

Because many of the pilgrims likely had lambs with them for their Passover sacrifice, they probably entered Jerusalem through the Sheep Gate rather than through the more direct Eastern Gate as their lambs would need to be inspected by the priests at the temple and would need to enter through the Sheep Gate for this to occur.

Don’t you find it interesting that Jesus chose Nisan 10th to ride into Jerusalem? He was proclaiming not only to be their Messiah but the Promised One: the One promised to Eve (Gn 3:15), the prophet like Moses (Dt 18:15), the pascal lamb that had been prophesied ever since the time of Moses (Is 53). He was the fulfillment of the sacrifices that had been offered all these years. Now it was time for the Jewish leaders to inspect and see if they would take him as their Messiah and Passover Lamb from God.

Have you thought about Jesus Christ in this way? He did all of this not only for the Jews of his day but for the entire world. One of the things he said while at the temple was, “And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself” (Jn 12:32). Did you get that? His death was for everyone on the earth: past, present, and future. Think about that and give him the praise he deserves.

Palm Sunday is the Sunday before Easter Sunday, so we celebrated it a little over two weeks ago. Yet, the historical Palm Sunday, or as some call it, The Triumphal Entry of Jesus into Jerusalem, was four days before Passover. And, technically, Christ did not rise on Easter but on Firstfruit, or Bikkurim (Easter vs Firstfruit). This year, Passover is not until April 22nd. This would then mean the first day of Unleavened Bread (or Matzah) is April 23rd, and Firstfruit (or Bikkurim) is April 24th. So, this year, the Christian celebration of Christ’s resurrection was three weeks earlier than the historical occurrence. It was in 325 AD that The Council of Nicaea decreed Easter to be observed on the first Sunday following the first full moon after the spring equinox (March 21), which means Easter can fall on any Sunday between March 22 and April 25. This decree then separated the historical occurrence of Christ’s resurrection from the celebrated date.

But how did Palm Sunday get its name? It comes from the Biblical account found in John 12:12-13 which says, “The next day the great crowd that had come for the festival [i.e., Passover] heard that Jesus was on his way to Jerusalem. They took palm branches and went out to meet him, shouting, ‘Hosanna!’, ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!’, ‘Blessed is the king of Israel!’” [italics mine]

If we look at the word “hosanna” further, we find that in Hebrew it is a compound word meaning “Please, Save Us!” It is thought to be an actual plea for help. Yet, it became an expression of adoration and praise for salvation. The Messiah was the one who could achieve this plea for salvation. The one to come in the name of the Lord was the Messiah. The people also knew that the coming Messiah was supposed to also reign as their king. So, in essence, they were saying that Jesus was coming to save them as their Messiah, and he would now reign as their king. Therefore, it was a very jubilant display for all to see as coats and cloaks were placed in front of Jesus’ donkey, and the people waived palm branches in joyous anticipation of what Jesus would do once he reached Jerusalem. Yet, their idea of salvation was a physical saving whereas Jesus’ idea of salvation at this time was a spiritual one.

We don’t always think about palm trees being associated with places like Jerusalem. Yet, palm trees are an important part of the Jerusalem landscape. Their prevalence today may not be as great as they were in the first century due to all the destruction and construction that has occurred there over the centuries. Yet, there are three main types of palms in this geographic area: date palm (elongated branches with many thin elongated leaves), sable palm (leaves more in a fan shape), and pygmy date palm (also with elongated branches with fewer thin elongated leaves). Any or all of these could have been used by the pilgrims on their way to Jerusalem. They are more abundant in valleys and their fruit much tastier than in the mountainous regions. With so many people flocking to Jerusalem at this time, as Passover was one of the required feasts where physical presence was commanded, and many others going out of Jerusalem to meet those coming in to join in their celebration, it likely looked like palm trees were walking down the Mount of Olives toward Jerusalem. What a sight, indeed!

Over the next several posts, I want us to think about eight questions concerning this event: (1) Was it a triumphal entry? (2) What occurred during the event? (3) What prophecies were fulfilled? (4) Who controlled the narrative of this event? (5) What led up to this event? (6) What happened after the event? (7) What did this mean for the Jews of the day? and (8) What does this mean for us today?

I hope you join me as we discover something quite profound as to why Jesus did what he did at this time and did not fulfill what the people were expecting of him once he reached Jerusalem.

 Numb.

How else do I describe how I feel?

After three days of tears, nightmares, and incoherent thoughts, I’m surprised I can even do this. After experiencing all I did, I’m still expected to celebrate Pesach, Matzah, and Bikkurim? Impossible. I wasn’t hungry. No one was hungry. It was all perfunctory. It should have had meaning, but, no, it had none. My loss—our loss—is too great.

Feasts are to bring one closer to HaShem. Yet wasn’t I already close to him? He was here. Physical. Tangible. But now? After what happened, my Jewishness failed me. I do not feel “passed over.” I feel like I received a direct hit. When the Pascal shofar blew, he said, “It is finished.” My heart melted at that very moment. I have not recovered.

It’s now just after sunrise on the first day of the week. The Romans never had a knack on timing. Or, maybe they did. Didn’t this act create the greatest suffering for all involved? Not only for him. Oh, most definitely for him. It was hard for me to watch, to bear, to endure. I can’t even imagine how he did. Again, Rome exacted the harshest punishment on us. My Jewishness, rather than helping, hindered. No time to pay my respects to this one who had done so much for me. I owe my very life to him. He brought me from the very depths of Sheol into the light—his light. I owe him more than forcefully having to ignore him at such a critical moment. Rome had no concern for our suffering. They had the crucifixion on Pesach and the day of preparation for Matzah, a day we treat as a special Sabbath. This forced our hand to not care for the body of the one who had taken care of us. Then came the weekly Sabbath. Again, our Jewishness left us in despair and away from performing our desire to honor this one who deserves our honor more than anyone. My respect to this one who gave me more respect than anyone else on earth has been delayed for three days. I am heartbroken, tired, weary, and worn. But this day, I will fulfil my duty, my obligation, my honor.

Other women are with me. No one can be more grieved than Mary, his mother. I know how broken my heart is. I can’t imagine hers. It must be inconsolable. I know mine is. I walk behind the others carrying an armload of spices. I know Joseph had spices and used them, but I need to show honor to him as well. The other women with me feel the same. Yet, I also dread doing this after three days. To add spices, some of the linen will have to be loosened to add them—not to mention the odor of decay. I saw how bloody his body was. The linen Joseph and Nicodemus used will likely be stuck to his body, unyielding to be released from the spots where blood oozed from his body, which were many. So many. I will be strong. I must be strong. I will pay honor to this one who loved me so.

We are all still grieving. Yet, I no longer weep. I can’t weep even though my heart feels like it is broken and seeping. Three days of weeping has exhausted my tears, but not my grief. The grief has only intensified even though my tears have dried up. No one is talking, except for Salome who is trying to comfort mother Mary. She was not only the mother to our Messiah alone, but to us all. She treated all his followers as her children. Indeed, she is most precious. Seeing her heart breaking continues to break mine.

One of the women in front of me stops suddenly and I almost walk into her. “The stone!” she exclaims. “How will we roll the stone away? All the men stayed in the city.”

I place my hand on her shoulder. “We will just convince one of the guards to roll the stone away for us,” I say.

Her eyes widen. “Speak to a Roman! I . . . I can’t.”

“Oh, I can,” I tell her. “I’ve done it before.” My cheeks redden. “Too many times, I’m afraid,” I say in almost a whisper.

As only she can, Mother Mary says, “HaShem will help us.”

Her words suffice everyone, and we continue on. Yet, I really didn’t want to speak to a Roman soldier. Remembrance of their touch I had received before almost put me in a panicked state. Mother’s words calm me. Yes, HaShem will be with us. After all, HaShem would want us to honor this one who honored Him as well.

Talk again subsides and I get lost in my thoughts until, again, I almost run into those in front of me. I look up and gasp. The stone is not just rolled away, but off its track! We all stand there, looking at each other in astonishment.

It then strikes me. The soldiers. They are nowhere to be seen. It is almost like each one of us wait for the other to make the first move. I take a deep breath and step forward. “I’ll investigate,” I say.

I slowly walk toward the tomb. I can feel my heart begin to pound and begin to hear my heartrate in my ears. I force myself to breathe. Once I get to where the stone lay off its track, I lay the spices in my arms down at that spot, stand, and straighten my clothes, biding time, and force my nerves to allow me to enter. The only thing I can think of is that someone stole his body. I can barely fathom such an act. If so, how can I ever show my respects?

I slowly enter. It takes time for my eyes to adjust. Before I even get all the way in, I see his body gone! I gasp as my hand goes to my mouth. But his shroud is still there. The blood stains are undeniable. I stiffen in fear and panic. I cannot force myself to go farther. I turn and run out of the tomb and into the garden.

I know my actions surprise my friends, but I am so overcome, I cannot stop and say anything. I don’t even observe what the other women do. I know they enter, but I become so enwrapped in my own sorrow, it doesn’t even occur to me to think of theirs. Very selfish, I know. But I am so overwhelmed.

I rest my hands on a nearby stone to steady myself. The beauty of this garden is undeniable, but its beauty seems to mock my sorrow. This is supposed to be a place of contemplative remembrance, but now, even that is stolen from me. I see a gardener tending to some of the flowers. He does not seem to notice me, and I am relieved as I just want to be alone. In the distance, I can still see three crosses erect and vacant. A flood of horrific memories flood over me: the jeering crowds, the taunting by the supposedly “righteous” priests, and his blood dripping from his body onto the ground. So many wounds; so much blood. I close my eyes and sob. I still can’t form tears. They are still dried up, but not my sorrow. The event, the timing, his burial—all at inconvenient times that seem to mock me. Now, the ultimate mocking. His body itself is gone so I cannot pay any respect at all. It is almost too much. I sink to my knees. My legs can no longer sustain me.

After a time, I realize that I need to tell the others. Strength comes back to my legs, and I run. My sorrow fuels my strength. Before I get very far, I see Peter and John running toward me. They stop and take my arms.

“Mary,” Peter says. “What did you see?”

I can only shake my head and barely get the words out, “They have taken him. I don’t know where he is.”

Both nod and then run on. I debate to go on or return. I decide to return to see what Peter and John will do. Yet, my running is over. I walk. By the time I arrive back, Peter and John are gone. I also know I must keep my commitment and go into the tomb. I had told Mother Mary I would, so I need to keep my word. I know they, Peter, and John have already entered, but while perfunctory, I must keep my commitment. As I slowly enter, I become overwhelmed with emotion all over again and begin to sob. This time, tears come. Yet, seeing two people dressed in white startles me at first, but their voices are so kind. “Why are you crying?” they ask.

I put my hands over my face and weep. “They have taken him away and I don’t know where.” My mind is so frazzled I don’t even question why two individuals are inside the tomb.

I then hear someone behind me outside the tomb speak. “Why are you crying? Who are you looking for?”

I assume this to be the gardener I had seen before. He evidently finally noticed that I am here. I step out of the tomb. My eyes are so wet with tears now, I can’t really focus. “Please, sir. If you have moved his body, please tell me.”

I then hear him speak my name: “Mary.” My heart stops. It’s him! Even without being able to focus my eyes due to the tears, I know this voice. I would know this voice anywhere. He said my name so many times before. I am so overcome I fall to my knees. I wipe my eyes and reach out my hands. “My Lord,” I say. I see him before me. How is this possible? I don’t know and at this moment, I don’t care. He is here!

“Do not touch me yet,” he says. “Go tell my disciples I am ascending to my Father, their Father and God as well.”

At once I run to do his bidding. I had come to respect and honor him. Rather than anointing his body, I am doing his bidding instead. This is how I honor him: by doing his bidding. Three days of sorrow has turned into joy. Suddenly, the day looks bright and vibrant. My heart is again about to burst, but this time with joy—pure joy. The one I had grown to know and love and who knew and loved me back was with me again. For us again. I can’t wait to tell the others.

Their three days of morning are over.

Resurrection day has come!

This year, Passover and Easter are very close to each other. Passover starts on April 19th and Easter occurs on April 21st. Passover occurs on the 15th day of the month Nissan which typically begins on the on the night of a full moon after the northern vernal equinox. Easter is similar as it occurs on the first Sunday after the first full moon occurring on or after the vernal equinox. The two usually fall close to each other but can be up to a month apart. Some feel Passover is a Jewish holiday while Easter is a non-Jewish holiday. We’ll get to understanding their relationship and this difference later. For this post, lets focus on Passover.

The Jewish feasts mentioned in Leviticus 23 have a prophecy component to them as well as a memorial component. We’ll look at the first three in this post: Passover (Pesach), Unleavened Bread (Matzah), and First Fruit (Bikkurim). They occurred back to back in the first month of the Jewish calendar.

Right before the first Passover (Pesach), on the 10th day of 1st month (Adar/Nissan or March/April of our calendar), a 1-year old lamb was set aside until the 14th day of the month. This ensured the lamb was unblemished. On the 14th day of the 1st month, a lamb was slaughtered at twilight and blood put on the sides and tops of the doorframe of one’s house. That night, the roasted lamb, along with bitter herbs and bread made without yeast, was eaten. None of the lamb was to be left at morning and none of its bones were to be broken. They were to eat the meal in haste while being dressed for travel, as the angel of death would pass over their houses because of the blood on their doorposts. This was to be a lasting ordinance – one to be celebrated for all time.

From the evening of the 14th day of the 1st month to the evening of the 21st day of the 1st month (7 days), leaven (yeast) was purged from one’s house and only unleavened bread was eaten for 7 days. This was the Feast of Unleavened Bread or Matzah. This was celebrating the day God separated Israel from Egypt. This was a lasting ordinance – one to be celebrated for all time. This represents sanctification. The Israelites left Egypt (sinful ways) and pledged themselves to God; traveled through the wilderness (our earthly life) understanding more about God who delivered them to their Promised Land (7th day of Feast – number of completion). This also points to Christ’s sinless life and the understanding of the matzah of Passover.

First Fruits (Bikkurim) occurred the day after the Sabbath (i.e., the day after the first day of Unleavened Bread which is treated as a Sabbath). The first sheaf of the barley harvest was brought to the priest. The priest was to wave the first sheaf before the Lord. Also, an offering of each of the following was made: a 1-yr old lamb as a burnt offering, a grain offering, and a drink offering. This was a lasting ordinance – one to be celebrated for all time.

There were a couple of reasons for these feasts. It became a relationship builder with their God by setting up memorials of notable events in Israel’s history. The feast countered pagan influences, offered an alternative to pagan harvests festivals, and represented their dependence upon God for everything.

Passover points to Christ as our acceptable sacrifice. As the blood on the doorposts caused the death angel to pass over that household, Christ’s blood and our acceptance of his payment, by faith, causes death to pass over us.

Unleavened Bread (Matzah) points to yeast as a symbol of sin (not always, but usually). Christ’s death was acceptable because it was free of sin.

First Fruit (Bikkurim) represents the first of something more to come. Jesus was the first fruit of the resurrection (1Co 15:23), and points to the fact that one day we also will be resurrected.

Jeremiah 23:5-8, tells us that Passover in the future will be different from today’s Passover: “The days are coming,” declares the LORD, “when I will raise up to David a righteous Branch, a King who will reign wisely and do what is just and right in the land. In his days Judah will be saved and Israel will live in safety. This is the name by which he will be called: The LORD Our Righteousness. ”So then, the days are coming,” declares the LORD, “when people will no longer say, ‘As surely as the LORD lives who brought the Israelites up out of Egypt,’ but they will say, ‘As surely as the LORD lives, who brought the descendants of Israel up out of the land of the north and out of all the countries where he had banished them.’ Then they will live in their own land.”

This is important because it shows us that God keeps His promises. Time is not a factor in whether a promise of God will be kept. This gives us hope that promises that God have given to us will also be kept. What seems impossible to us is not impossible to God. We can trust in what God has stated no matter if how it will be accomplished cannot be understood by us. The Passover will be important for all who put their trust in Jesus Christ. Passover is a “forever” ordinance. We should therefore understand its significance. We have a very promising future. Are you ready for it?