As he came near and saw the city, he wept over it, saying, ‘If you, even you, had only recognized on this day the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes. Indeed, the days will come upon you, when your enemies will set up ramparts around you and surround you, and hem you in on every side. They will crush you to the ground, you and your children within you, and they will not leave within you one stone upon another; because you did not recognize the time of your visitation from God.’*
Then he entered the temple and began to drive out those who were selling things there; and he said, ‘It is written,
“My house shall be a house of prayer”;
but you have made it a den of robbers.’
Every day he was teaching in the temple. The chief priests, the scribes, and the leaders of the people kept looking for a way to kill him; but they did not find anything they could do, for all the people were spellbound by what they heard.
Luke 19:41-44
As Jesus enters Jerusalem in Luke 19.28-44, he weeps over the city, saying, “If you, even you, had only recognized on this day the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes. Indeed, the days will come upon you, when your enemies will set up ramparts around you and surround you, and hem you in on every side. They will crush you to the ground, you and your children within you, and they will not leave within you one stone upon another; because you did not recognize the time of your visitation from God.”
Jesus wept because he had brought with him peace, but Jerusalem chose the sword instead.
Today we live among virulent words, vastly-opposing opinions and dialogues, a lack of civility in some cases and utter hostility in others. We disagree with those we used to call friends, we shift from true peace in familial relationships to surface-level survival on holidays and at celebrations. We allow our ideas, our agendas, our perceptions to color the way we treat one another. And sometimes—maybe often, we forget Christ in the middle of the mess.
Somehow in his grace, the mess is exactly where Christ meets us. And it’s precisely where he desires to enter in. He can handle our messes, our mistakes, our conflict, and he offers peace just like he did 2,000 years ago in Jerusalem. It’s there for all who trust in him, but also for those who don’t yet know his heart. Christ’s peace, and Christ’s people when we choose his peace, are the antidote to anger, hostility, and the sword.
This week as we reflect on Palm Sunday and our humble Savior, weeping over Jerusalem on a donkey on his way to the cross that erases all sin, let us pray with confidence to the Father for help and guidance on the path to peace. It’s possible in our hearts and it’s possible in our homes. It’s possible in our cities and in our schools. It’s possible in our circumstances and in the circumstances of the world, but we’ll have to set down our swords first. There’s no turning back.
Lord, make us instruments of your peace.
Amen.