Reflections on Life and Faith,
by David Keating

Triumph and Tragedy

March 2008

Have you ever heard the expression "He had the uncanny ability of snatching defeat from the jaws of victory"? It's not exactly a compliment.

Going by the Gospel accounts of the period leading up to Jesus' crucifixion, no doubt there were a few of his followers who were thinking exactly that. After all, they were looking for the guy who would send the Romans packing. No matter how many times he told them differently, they just couldn't seem to conceive of a leader who didn't whip out a sword at the least provocation.

Perhaps they preferred to think that Jesus was just biding his time, waiting for the right moment. They hailed him as their hero, the man who performed miracles, and the guy who could silence the uppity scribes and Pharisees with nothing more than a well turned parable.

They even gave him the local equivalent of the red carpet treatment, throwing down their cloaks, rushes and palm fronds for his trusty steed to walk on as he entered town.

We generally think of Palm Sunday as a time of spiritual preparation. It becomes a sacred and sober commemoration. But we have the benefit of hindsight. We know what happens next. Think of it from the perspective of one of the spectators. This was like the Rolling Stones, Avril Lavigne, and Brooks and Dunn all coming into town at once. This was big. Unprecedented. It was an atmosphere ripe with potential.

No doubt the backroom boys who plot political strategies were looking things over and rubbing their hands. What were the odds that Jesus would start an insurgency this week? The timing was perfect. Passover, after all, was the celebration of the escape of the Israelites from slavery through the direct intervention of God. The people were ready!!

If you've ever watched a movie about the Crusades or just the evening news you know what religious zeal can do. We know what people are capable of when they're caught up in the fervour of a cause. Jesus had it all in the palm of his hand. And he was angry. He cursed the fig tree and overturned the tables in the Temple. All he had to do was say the word and that Passover in Jerusalem would have turned into a bloodbath.

So what happened? Why didn't Jesus give the signal? He must have been tempted. The Gospels relate his prayer to God. "Come on Dad, isn't there another way to do this?"

But there wasn't. And he knew it.

Violence had been the way of the world for countless generations. The ability to hack down and chop up the other guy had been the only measurement of "right" that mattered. It was time to change that.

So Jesus didn't give any signal to take up arms. The people waited. Quite possibly a number of weapons dealers were hanging out on the sidelines, carts full of swords ready to sell at a hefty markup over last week. Can't have an uprising without the right blade, now can we?

But the signal never came.

And the crowd, whipped to a fever pitch by the holiday and what they thought was their time of redemption, couldn't figure it out.

The first reaction was likely confusion. Then they would have gotten annoyed. What was Jesus playing at? Call for the attack man! Nothing.

In a crowd, annoyance can be turned to anger pretty quickly. A few people saying "I told you so" didn't take long to turn into a mob calling for his head.

All was undone. Triumph had turned to tragedy.

Hadn't it?