Why’d you ride into Jerusalem on the donkey and her foal? We threw cloaks on them both and you hopped on their backs. Everyone knew the prophecy: “Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion! Shout aloud O daughter of Jerusalem! Behold your king is coming to you; righteous and having salvation is he, humble and mounted on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey” (Zec. 9: 9 ESV). So we shouted and sang. “Hosanna to the son of David.” We cut branches from trees and spread them. We threw down our cloaks. We didn’t mind if the donkeys soiled them. We sounded like many waters. We had to be a thousand strong. At last you were going to conquer Rome and free us. But no army had been mustered. Were the angels going to soar down from the sky like starlings?
You put me there, at the foot of the cross. Inspired.