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!”
John 12:13 NIV
In high school I was required to read the play, “Our Town,” and I really enjoyed it. I found it to be such a beautiful, bittersweet play. The play is about a woman, Emily; we see her as a young girl, then as a young woman, then we see her funeral. Emily has the option to go back and pick one day to relive if she chooses. The other dead around her tell her not to, but she chooses to relive a day anyway. Her remembered joy of the day she chooses quickly turns to anguish as she sees all the little things about the day that she wasn’t grateful for or happy about. She wants to yell at herself to enjoy everything, that everything is perfect, that life will go too quickly and she should be enjoying everything.
I’ve often thought of that play and asked myself what day of my life would I choose to relive if I had the choice? Would I pick a big, special day like my wedding day? If I were to choose my wedding day, I would get to see all my friends and family who had traveled from out of town for the big event … but I think I would end up choosing a more mundane day. One that was special, but not super special.
Last year we went camping and that Saturday was great. We had a breakfast of pancakes and bacon with French-pressed coffee that we cooked leisurely at our campsite. We worked on our hobbies before we decided to go to the pool where we alternately swam and read our books. After some time, we made our way back to our campsite and worked on our hobbies again for a while before building a fire and making dinner. After dinner, we cleaned up and relaxed around the campfire; we watched the stars and the flames until we decided to call it a night and go to sleep.
It was a simple day and it was special because we were away, but not all that exciting. We didn’t see anyone special; we didn’t even do anything we couldn’t do fairly easily from home. But it was a great day. It might be one I would consider reliving at the end of my life—but oh how bittersweet it would be knowing the end of the story and watching that day rather than living it now, presumably still near the beginning of my life’s story.
I wonder if that’s how Jesus felt as He rode into Jerusalem that day, all those years ago, hailed by the crowds waving palm branches. Unlike us, He knew the end of the story. He knew that in less than a week the crowd that cheered and waved palms before Him, the crowd that laid their coats on the ground and gave Him a young colt to ride on, would turn against Him. He knew that they would scream for His torturous death. He could feel the bitter sweetness of that moment in its entirety. He knew what the end of His story would be. He knows what the end of all of our stories will be. What a blessing that the end of our stories remain hidden from us. We don’t get the chance to relive days in our lives. We don’t get to change history; we don’t see the future, and we never know when the story of our life ends. But we know this: Jesus came so that when the days of our lives have been cut off and we have no more left, we can go to live with Him for forever.
Forever. Such a short word for such a great expanse of time—more than we can even fathom. Forever. Never ending. We get that chance with our few and precious days here on earth to choose where we want to spend our forever. If we choose Jesus, we will get to spend all of forever in a state that I imagine feels like our best days here on earth. And if we don’t choose Him? I think we will forever feel the pain and regret of all the missed opportunities, all the moments we wish we could go back and reclaim. I urge you to take a good look at the condition of your heart this Palm Sunday and ask yourself, if you were to die today, would you get to live your best days yet forever or would you forever feel the pain of the decision you didn’t make when you had the chance?