The young rabbi comes in on an unridden colt, who can’t be much older than his ministry.* An innocent, unbroken beast of burden. He carries Jesus into the center of everything. It may appear the most humble and passive way to come into Jerusalem. Yet, it is a ride of defiance. Entering like no one ever has, he blows in with a lot to do, and more to let go of. He knows his friends will resist this…their angry voices will swell like rainclouds, full of defense and denial.
Riding into the teeth of the storm, he thinks of his mother and father traveling to Bethlehem and then Egypt, when he was too young to remember, escaping a coming tempest. To find the eye within the hurricane of loneliness, transition, and exile. The gathering storm grows, like the crowds who come to line the path before him. His gaze lowered, like a priest bowing before the altar. Great winds of change wail at his back, filling up his sails. Soon his passions will unfurl, and the love for his God, for his faith, and for this holy city, will spill out like the perfume that will anoint his feet. This love of his will be his shelter.
He thinks about the frightened fishermen in the boat as he lay sleeping, the winds raging. He leans towards what he knows deep within: that this spirit wind is behind him, for him. This liminal moment within the eye of the storm, a brief respite before the other side swirls in, scattering hope, and his friends, like fallen leaves. He’s the only one who knows this now.
On this strangely triumphant ride, his heart is quiet within him. Traveling between two curtains of hard rain, with darker nights to come, he takes a deep breath and exhales, trusting in his steps, and those of the colt that carries him. Two creatures, innocent and unbroken.
