To Jerusalem

Rick Atchley was preaching out of Luke on Sunday, where it records that “We are going up to Jerusalem . . .”; “Now on his way to Jerusalem. . .”

Almost nonchalantly it says he [Jesus] is on his way to Jerusalem. In reality, he’s on his way to fulfill his destiny, to do what he was meant to do, die a terrible, horrible, painful, humiliating death. In fact, those words do not describe the kind of death he was to endure.

All through the sermon, it kept resonating with me that he knew what was going to happen, but he was going anyway. It set me to thinking, which is sometimes not a good thing. “Self, I said, if I knew that my trip was going to end in my death, would I take it? Would I walk out the front door, get in my car and head for Jerusalem, knowing I wouldn’t be coming back? Knowing the pain and suffering I was in for?” Self said “Uh, no. I would get in my car and head the other direction. Or stay in my house and lock all the doors and not go anywhere for days, or weeks or years, till I thought it was safe. But drive towards my known death? No way!”

Maybe I would try to find out why they wanted me to die and negotiate a settlement whereby I get to live. Any number of scenarios ran through my head, none of which ended with me dying. But Jesus headed to Jerusalem.

He and his trusty ragtag band of followers and any other lost souls they could pick up along the way walked to Jerusalem to fulfill his destiny. Forget walking to Jerusalem. He walked out of heaven, came to earth for the express purpose of saving lowly, sinful, undeserving humans. That meant he had to die to do that, so we wouldn’t. And he was willing.

I wonder if those last few miles he was dragging his feet, seeing how long he could take to get there, or if he sped up just wanting to get it over with. Was the dread of what was about to happen to him overshadowed by his love for his father and for us. Did his chest tighten and his stomach churn with every step? Did he want to scream as his disciples engaged in the selfish me first attitude they always seemed to have? Was it on the tip of his tongue to say, “okay surely you’ve got it by now. I’ve been saying the same things to you every day for the last three years?”

On his way he was preaching and teaching, healing and loving on people, the very people who would soon shout crucify him, the very people he came to save. Did anyone see the sorrow in his eyes? No, he cried alone in the garden while his loved ones slept, completely unaware of what was going to transpire.

I’m thinking it was a long, emotional journey to Jerusalem. The urgency of so much left to do and time running out, coupled with the knowledge of what awaited him on that Friday. Thank you Jesus for making that walk.

Peace and Joy,

Stevie

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