Freedom Isn't Free
Read Matthew 21.
As I sit and reflect on this Memorial Day Evening, I am once again thankful for those who have, in varying measure, given of themselves to guarantee and protect our freedom. Today, because of those who fought against tyranny and those who died in the service of our country, I was able to spend an enjoyable day with family, drive wherever I wanted, celebrate in whatever way I wanted. Yesterday, because of sacrifices made, I was able to worship freely and without fear. Memorial Day ought to be a time not just about car races or hot dogs on a grill. It ought to be a reflective time, a thankful time, a time when we realize again, as the old saying goes, that freedom isn't free.
And so, on this day, we begin Matthew's account of the last week of Jesus' life. He begins at the top of the Mount of Olives, and he rides a donkey down the side of that steep hill that faces Jerusalem. I've walked that route down that mountain several different times, and it's hard for me to imagine riding a donkey down that slope. It's not easy to walk—and these days, it's paved! But the whole time, Jesus isn't concerned about his own safety. His eyes are focused on Jerusalem, his beloved city that has rejected him and will reject him more before the week is out.
As he rides, my eyes are drawn to the crowd. They sense something big is happening, so they spread out cloaks on the ground (because that's what you do when you welcome a king) and they cut down branches from nearby trees to wave in celebration as Jesus enters the city. Matthew doesn't tell us what kind; John (12:13) supplies the detail that they were palm branches. Palm branches were and are a symbol of victory, of peace. Palm branches for those Hebrews were a national symbol, an image of pride. For them to wave the palm branches as Jesus entered Jerusalem would be similar to us waving American flags during a parade down Main Street. It's a celebration of nationalism, of ethnic pride. And in that culture, it was also a dangerous symbol.
You see, Rome didn't take kindly to the Hebrews getting any ideas about independence. They wanted Judea just the way it was—as a vassal state. Freedom was going to come at a cost—as in fact, it did, when the Jews finally rebelled against Rome in the year 66 AD. Rome killed many Jews as they put an end to any nationalistic idea. Freedom wasn't free—nor was it possible then. An independent state only came about again in 1948 after many, many more had died on the battlefield and in concentration camps. Freedom isn't free.
But neither was the freedom Jesus really came to bring. No matter what nationalistic hopes they tried to pin on Jesus as he came into the city for his last week, he actually came to bring another kind of freedom. Freedom from slavery to sin. Freedom from death. Freedom from hopelessness. Freedom from being unloved. And that sort of freedom isn't free, either. It would cost the savior his very life, as we will see in the next few chapters.
Pay close attention to all that the true freedom requires as we continue to move toward the cross. Matthew slows down his storytelling here so that we can get it. He wants us to notice and to remember: freedom isn't free.
As I sit and reflect on this Memorial Day Evening, I am once again thankful for those who have, in varying measure, given of themselves to guarantee and protect our freedom. Today, because of those who fought against tyranny and those who died in the service of our country, I was able to spend an enjoyable day with family, drive wherever I wanted, celebrate in whatever way I wanted. Yesterday, because of sacrifices made, I was able to worship freely and without fear. Memorial Day ought to be a time not just about car races or hot dogs on a grill. It ought to be a reflective time, a thankful time, a time when we realize again, as the old saying goes, that freedom isn't free.
And so, on this day, we begin Matthew's account of the last week of Jesus' life. He begins at the top of the Mount of Olives, and he rides a donkey down the side of that steep hill that faces Jerusalem. I've walked that route down that mountain several different times, and it's hard for me to imagine riding a donkey down that slope. It's not easy to walk—and these days, it's paved! But the whole time, Jesus isn't concerned about his own safety. His eyes are focused on Jerusalem, his beloved city that has rejected him and will reject him more before the week is out.
As he rides, my eyes are drawn to the crowd. They sense something big is happening, so they spread out cloaks on the ground (because that's what you do when you welcome a king) and they cut down branches from nearby trees to wave in celebration as Jesus enters the city. Matthew doesn't tell us what kind; John (12:13) supplies the detail that they were palm branches. Palm branches were and are a symbol of victory, of peace. Palm branches for those Hebrews were a national symbol, an image of pride. For them to wave the palm branches as Jesus entered Jerusalem would be similar to us waving American flags during a parade down Main Street. It's a celebration of nationalism, of ethnic pride. And in that culture, it was also a dangerous symbol.
You see, Rome didn't take kindly to the Hebrews getting any ideas about independence. They wanted Judea just the way it was—as a vassal state. Freedom was going to come at a cost—as in fact, it did, when the Jews finally rebelled against Rome in the year 66 AD. Rome killed many Jews as they put an end to any nationalistic idea. Freedom wasn't free—nor was it possible then. An independent state only came about again in 1948 after many, many more had died on the battlefield and in concentration camps. Freedom isn't free.
But neither was the freedom Jesus really came to bring. No matter what nationalistic hopes they tried to pin on Jesus as he came into the city for his last week, he actually came to bring another kind of freedom. Freedom from slavery to sin. Freedom from death. Freedom from hopelessness. Freedom from being unloved. And that sort of freedom isn't free, either. It would cost the savior his very life, as we will see in the next few chapters.
Pay close attention to all that the true freedom requires as we continue to move toward the cross. Matthew slows down his storytelling here so that we can get it. He wants us to notice and to remember: freedom isn't free.
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