Unmet expectations are highly flammable. Light a match and marriages clash, mothers loose their temper, and best of friends fall away. I remember early on in my marriage I would get so angry with my husband for his unpredictable work schedule. Due to my own childhood, I expected a husband who was home around 5 and for the most part helped with evening bedtime. However, I quickly realized that my expectations were a far cry from my reality. Our marriage hit a bump in the road, but sometimes the stakes can be higher.
In just over a week we will put on brightly-colored Spring clothes and make our way to celebrate Palm Sunday. Our small children will tie palm leaves into little crosses, and those of us sitting in the pews (or more modern chairs) will join the great cloud of witnesses and sing “Hosanna. Hosanna. Hosanna in the Highest.” We do this in remembrance of the day when “most of the crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. And the crowds that went before Him and that followed Him were shouting, ‘Hosanna to the Son of David…Hosanna in the Highest.'” (Matthew 21:8-9)
…But crowds are fickle. And if I am being honest, my heart is also.
In a matter of days, yo-yo emotions of the crowd plummeted from cheers of adoration to shouts of condemnation. (See Matthew 21:9-11 and 27:20) But what in the world happened? What convinced the crowd to hail Him as King on Sunday, and condemn Him as criminal on Friday?
Much like you and I, perhaps the crowd harbored some lingering resentment from unmet expectations.
In order to better understand this, let’s join the Jewish people on a brief history journey. During the time of Israel’s defeat and captivity, loads of prophecies spoke of a coming deliverer, or Messiah, and the re-establishment of Jerusalem. (Hello Isaiah through Malachi and 15 books in between!) But after these prophecies, 400 years of Biblical silence ensued.
However, where the Bible was silent, history is replete with recorded events. During those 400 years, Israel passed through many governing hands like a game of hot potato. Like a tapestry, various cultures, languages, and religious traditions wove into the fabric of their lives.
Yet one thing probably stayed the same: the Jewish people still passed along the stories of old. The ones where God cast Egypt’s charioteers into the sea. Or the time Jericho’s walls crumbled at a trumpet blast. Or maybe the favorite was the giant Goliath killed by a boy with a sling and a stone. I would want to welcome this kind of deliverer, wouldn’t you?
Into this political mayhem, Jesus was born. Under Roman rule and corrupt Jewish leadership, of course the people hoped for a Messiah like the days of old. A Savior to defeat their enemies and overthrow their oppressors. In a spiritual sense, Jesus did all of this. But in the eyes of the crowd, Jesus didn’t deliver.
Because instead of waging a triumphant political campaign against Rome, Jesus became their prisoner. Arrested. Accused. And delivered into the hands of Pilate. Conceivably, with expectations dashed against the wall of reality, the Jewish leaders persuaded the crowd “to ask for Barabbas and destroy Jesus.” (Matthew 27:20)
At this point, I find it easy to hurl condemnation on the fickle crowd. But then I pondered, how often have I reacted the same way? Just like the crowd, have I hailed Him as King but condemned Him as criminal because He failed to meet my expectations? Certainly, when I anticipate triumph I quickly lay down my cloak and hail Him as King. But on the other hand, when I hold broken dreams and dashed hopes, my disappointment rages at unmet expectations.
So let me ask you, as we prepare to wave our palm branches and sing Hosanna, what kind of God are you welcoming? Because sometimes our expectations of Jesus’ rule and reign looks starkly different from our reality.
Without a doubt, God is the Most High over all the universe. So why do we harness Him like a genie in a bottle? I’ll be the first to say, I’m culpable. All too often, I place God into compact boxes of my liking, and then I’m angry when He doesn’t grant me my 3 wishes. Anyone else?
“Hosanna” – save us – we cry. But from what are we asking salvation? These circumstances, this culture, these corrupt rulers? The longer I live the more I realize the one who continually needs saving is me. My own unbalanced heart that put the God of the Universe in a man-made box and feels anger when He doesn’t fit.
Today it is time we release our genie in the bottle. We might need to pry our fisted hand open, but can we commit to release our expectations and our preferred designs? Gosh, this is so hard! Yet let me challenge you to embrace the mystery, and let God be God. Beyond our understanding. Beyond our comprehension. Even when our heart is pierced with unmet expectations.
Let’s take a lesson from The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe:
“Is—is he a man?” asked Lucy.
“Aslan a man!” said Mr. Beaver sternly. “Certainly not. I tell you he is the King of the wood and the son of the great Emperor-Beyond-the-Sea. Don’t you know who is the King of Beasts? Aslan is a lion—the lion, the great Lion.”
“Ooh!” said Susan, “I’d thought he was a man. Is he—quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion.”
“That you will, dearie, and no mistake,” said Mrs. Beaver; “if there’s anyone who can appear before Aslan without their knees knocking, they’re either braver than most or else just silly.”
“Then he isn’t safe?” said Lucy.
“Safe?” said Mr. Beaver; “don’t you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you.”
Love you, friends.
(If you would like to hear empowering stories, a handful of them about unmet expectations, you can find them over on my Bold Mercies Podcast page.)
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