Lent 5
Brutus and Festus do some crowd control.
We hear them before we see them. Shouts and cheers.
It’s Festival time and the city is awash with religious excitement. The trouble is that when people get excited about their faith then they do stupid things.
“Come on Festus… this sounds like a bit of fun.”
We see people coming down the road from the Mount of Olives. Its quite a rabble, the curious and stupid come out to see whats going. They never stop to think that its us poor bozo’s who have to keep everyone safe. And if we have to stomp on a minority of people to stop the majority injuring themselves, then we have done a good day’s work.
People are taking their cloaks off and spreading them on the road. As dumb as door. A cloak is your security blanket. It’s used to keep you warm, to barter and trade. It’s as good as any denarius.
It’s a bizarre gesture and an incredible sight. As they lay their cloaks on the dusty rocky road I can’t help wondering if this is what they call the red carpet treatment. I also remember this same Jesus guys saying something like
“If anyone wants to sue you and take your coat, give your cloak as well.”
Which is the most blockhead thing I’ve ever heard.
So I understand the gesture of throwing their cloak on the ground and just what it means for the people. What they are really saying is that they would give their all for this guy.
And here’s another crazy thing. This Jesus guy is on a donkey. An ass … can you believe it? If he is so important, how come he hasn’t got fine black horses like Cornelius? Is Jesus important or not? Or have the crowds just been duped and deluded.
There’s a widow from Nain with her son in the crowd who is just busting to try and get past our line to try and touch Jesus. I reckon there must be some history there.
She’s so determined that she manages to quickly scuttle past Festus and run out onto the road. I can see the glee on Festus’s face as he spontaneously launches himself in her direction and falls on top off her. Even from where I’m standing, I can hear the air escaping from her as she hits the dusty rocky road. Without flinching Festus tosses her over his shoulder and takes her back to the crowd, glaring at everyone else as his way of warning.
The heaving swarm of bodies are all crying out that the top of their voices
‘Blessed is the king
who comes in the name of the Lord!
A king, riding on a donkey? Good ol Herod ain’t gonna like this. Paranoid old poppet. Any whisper of another King and Herod is going to put his stomping boots on.
The other person I recognise is Jesus Mum. She has thrown her cloak out in front of her son and is waving her palm branch along with everyone else. She’s excited. Her face flushed with pride and hope. And I get that. What Mum wouldn’t be pleased to see her son do so well. But really honey. Really…? This is all just going to end in tears. Your tears.
You see, while this guy is all very popular today, God’s gift to the world, I have seen this far too many times before. It's a slippery pole that you climb to the top and when you're at the top, there’s only one way, one option left and that’s a quicker slide down again. Always finishing further down than where you started.
Yep, I reckon that by the end of the week this lot will all be baying for his blood and I’ll be getting overtime for a crucifixion.
The noise is deafening and the crowd is going ballistic. The air is filled with thrumming, waving palm branches.
I can see Jesus up close. I look at his face to see if he’s enjoying himself, searching for any smugness and self congratulations. There’s none. And far from me looking at him and trying to get his measure, he is looking at me and its as if he’s known me for a thousand years. When he looks at me and my uniform there is no fear or anger. He's not looking at any of that. Instead he is looking into that most secret, that very deepest part of me. And far from disgust and abhorrence, his gaze is one of affection and great beauty. The moment is over before it’s begun. It’s both fleeting and forever.
He passes by and the noise slowly evaporates. People go back to their homes talking and laughing. Another great outing.
Festus and I run the last of the remaining crowds off the street.
“How long do ya give him Festus? 50 pieces of silver says we’ll be driving in the nails within a week.”
Sigh ….tomorrow life will go on… I’ll get up, put on the uniform, extort, belittle and intimidate; have a great time… … and yet… and yet… I can’t forget the look. His look.