Comfort Forever
In the first century, the people of Israel found themselves in a desperate situation. They were under oppressive pressure by a tyrannical Roman government. Many of them suffered from various diseases from which they sought relief. And there was poverty. They were desperate for help in the form of a Savior.
In the 21st century, the people of the world are under the pressure of a pandemic, needing immediate relief to save lives and protect health. The world again is looking for salvation, albeit salvation from different specific circumstances than those of the first century. However, there is a similarity between these cases. The people of Israel and people today both desire relief from their current circumstances. They are focused on the here and now. Sooner or later, comfort may come. Then what?
Think about our electoral process. We elect a president every four years. The success of the candidate at the time the votes are cast depends largely on the level of comfort the electorate is experiencing. Any candidate may win by a landslide their first term, but lose the second due to subsequent popular discomfort (or even the perception thereof). That’s the way people are. They tend to be fickle, fair-weather friends.
The story behind Palm Sunday is a study in the fickleness of people. Some of the very same folks who had welcomed Jesus with palm fronds on Sunday were calling for His crucifixion by Friday. "Sunday's Savior" had become "Friday's felon" in the minds of the frond-waving crowd. Their response was nothing more than a reflection of the group dynamic. It was not unlike a frenzied crowd at a political rally. They seemed to conform to the leanings of the moment. Do we ever do that?
We may marvel at how the crowd could have changed so much, but in a way, it happens every weekend. Thousands of people, singing the praises of God on Sunday, often demonstrate less-than-worshipful attitudes during the week. They hide their association with Jesus. Then, the next Sunday, they're back to praising Jesus. The first Holy Week was simply a preview of the vacillating nature of people's attitudes toward Christ. Without literally crying out "Crucify Him," many today effectively turn their backs on Him as a weekly pattern.
It is a reflection of the temporal nature of their relationship with Jesus, the “What have you done for me lately?” syndrome. Going to church and being among those who share your beliefs is comfortable. That hour or so may bring relief from the outside world, temporarily soothing like a spiritual salve, but it’s over at the closing benediction. Back to the real world. We might think about eternity next week, at church.
Jesus came for more than comfort on Sundays. He came to offer comfort beyond the needs of daily life. He comforts despite the discomfort inherent in our earthbound existence. Those who mistakenly embrace Him initially as a remedy to all their present cares turn on Him when the cares return or new ones come without immediate remedy. They’re looking for a different kind of messiah and a different kind of comfort.
Jesus made it abundantly clear that what He offered was different. For example, the people of Israel awaited a messiah who would bring peace. The Scriptures foretold that the coming Messiah would be “Prince of peace” (Isaiah 9:6). Jesus came and promised peace. But He qualified it as: “Not as the world gives” (John 14:27). If you’re willing to make Jesus king based on what He can do to solve your problems and remove earthly discomfort, you picked the wrong king. He is the King of the best kind of comfort. The forever kind.
“For just as the sufferings of Christ are ours in abundance, so also our comfort is abundant through Christ” —2 Corinthians 1:5