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"Ride on, ride on, in majesty." Adam and Eve gave up the majesty of being children of the Majestic Monarch. They opted for the illusory majesty of "self." Whenever you fail to obey all the commands of the Lord, your Lord, you too slip into the non-existent royal garb of the "naked emperor." Christ's majesty that Sunday so long ago was not really visible to the eyes. Because your own sin brays like an ass and struts around like it's the "cock of the walk," our Lord had to ride into Jerusalem, knowing all along He was riding into His own brutal and painful death. Even as the prophet Balaam once rode an ass on a mission for the Lord, so too the Lord rides this lowly beast because He was Himself a lowly beast of burden for all of you. Balaam's ass veered away from the path when it encountered the invisible angel. The colt, the foal of a donkey, was carrying God's own Angel, The Angel of The Lord, and would not go astray. That little colt carried Jesus right into the den of vipers; not just the Jerusalem of Annas and Caiphas, but also into the heart of all of you.

Majesty? He was from Galilee; the town of Nazareth. That must be something like being from Mudstick, Mississippi. He was dressed in the plain clothes of a carpenter's son riding a young animal. Majesty? He was surrounded by out-of-work fishermen, tax-collectors, children, women, and cripples (of all sorts). What could the eye see? What would His enemies have really been afraid of?

"Hark! all the tribes hosanna cry." Well, there were a lot of people in Jerusalem for the yearly Feast of the Passover; a lot of "out-of-towners." I suppose the Pharisees thought that if there ever could be a popular revolt of the masses (or whatever the 1st century Judean version of that would be) this might be the time. This "rabbi" was certainly popular enough with the great unwashed, for the road into the city was "...with palms and scattered garments strowed."

Clothes laid on the ground, in the dirt to be trampled on by a beast. In reality, their filthy garments of sin were being draped upon the Christ's body. It would be Jesus Himself Who would be trampled upon by Jews, Romans, Satan, and you, in the Passion which laid ahead. The majesty He rode to was nothing more than the walk down the prison corridor the convict makes when he is being led to the chamber where the Electric Chair is kept.

The majesty of the Savior is that He knew He was riding on to die. He knew there was no other way. He, as God, knew that sin had to be purged; trespasses had to be atoned for; obedience to divine Law and perfect holiness had to be accomplished. He knew Adam's fall had to be reversed and that your daily falls had to be remitted as well.

Well does Luther call this transaction at the cross the "blessed exchange." Jesus rode in your place to your rightfully earned place: the place of the skull. Jesus knew that to save you from the eternal death He had to die. To save you from the taste and agony of hell fire, He had to experience that hell. Jesus is like the giant protective heat shield on the space shuttle; that is; in order for you to safely be brought back from the black, lifeless void of space; from certain death without oxygen, water and earth; He would stand in front of you and absorb all the burning heat; not of re-entry, but of the Father's wrath against sin. He rode that colt directly into the gaping maw of Satan himself. He allowed the old evil foe to slice Him to pieces with the fangs of a poison serpent. The feet which were so blessed for bringing the Peace of the Kingdom of God would soon be horribly bruised; the heal would be struck.

The Angels which the Son of God created during the first six days, the Angels which eternally sing to Him, SANCTUS, SANCTUS, SANCTUS, [Isaiah 6] the Angels which sung to the heavens the Holy night of His Incarnation; the Angels (not 12 Legions, but the entire dreaded awesome Sabaoth) would have come down in a blinding storm of righteous flame; the Angels view this scene of the Lord's entry into the City of David and they weep. They know. The carved images of the Seraphim which adorned the top of the Ark of the Covenant, which sat facing each other over the Mercy Seat of God, cry angelic tears for they know that the blood which will soon be poured over the Law breaking and the sin of all of you, will be the blood of Jesus their dear maker and God.

Lest we forget that God is Triune, that the Father is a separate "person" than the Son, we are well reminded of not only dear Father Abraham when he was about to sacrifice His only beloved son Isaac, but of the love in the hearts of each and every Dad for his own dear children; of the heartache and pain we human fathers feel at the loss of our own boys, be it from war, accident, illness, or other loss. Separate "persons" yes, we confess and believe that; but also of the same essence, we dads (and moms too) feel that when our children are threatened, harmed, or taken in death... a piece of us dies. God the Father, your Father Who art in heaven loves you that much, that He let His Son Jesus, ride on, ride on.

It is good that Christ meekly bowed His head and endured the mortal pain. Brother and sisters, lift up your heads, ye Mighty Gates, ye the Church Catholic, your Redemption is Here in His Word of Victory and Forgiveness, and in His Body Given and Blood Shed for the pledge.

"Then take, The Christ, His power and life and peace, and reign with Him forever."

In the Name + of Jesus