I can’t imagine.

Literally, I can’t imagine what it would have been like for Jesus this week.  From the triumphal entry to the cross, with a couple betrayals tossed in for good measure.

Last Sunday should have been great – people cheering and waving palm branches.  The problem is that people were acknowledging Him as an earthly king, as a national king, instead of an eternal, heavenly, personal king.  So even though the crowd was excited, He wasn’t.  But He wasn’t dismissive – He was Jesus, being Jesus.

Monday would have been a day where the whole city and surrounding towns were talking about it – the new king!  People were imagining how great it would be to get the Romans out, how they’d be free to worship as they wanted, free to not be forced to take a soldier’s burden for a mile whenever they were asked.

Tuesday would be the balancing point.  Some concern, questions about where the miracles were.  The buzz was shifting from positive to neutral, with some people scoffing.

Wednesday – today – things would have gotten messy.  The chatter starting to pick up speed as it accelerates away from the peak.  “He’s no king.”  “Where’s a miracle now?  Why doesn’t he send the Romans to the place the loaves and fishes came from?”  And, in the background, the Jewish leaders were scheming.

On Wednesday, the woman poured the bottle of perfume worth $50,000 over Jesus’ head.  On Wednesday, Judas Iscariot sought out the chief priests in order to betray Jesus.

On Wednesday, the woman started the process of burial for a living man.  On Wednesday, Judas started the process of death for that Man.

On Wednesday, Jesus was having dinner while two factions were fighting over His body.  The body, which would be broken for you, was already being tugged at.  His mind was being pulled.  His soul was in anguish.

He had two days left to live, and He knew it, and He could have stopped it.  He didn’t.  He went forward, obedient to the Father’s plan.

Hallelujah, what a Savior.