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The journey from Palm Sunday to Good Friday is one of the most dramatic reversals in human history. In less than a week, the same crowds that welcomed Jesus with palm branches and shouts of “Hosanna!” were crying out “Crucify him!” How did such a radical shift happen? The answer reveals something profound about who Jesus is—and challenges us to examine our own relationship with Him.

The Danger of Stopping at the Sign

When Jesus entered Jerusalem on that first Palm Sunday, the crowds were ecstatic. They had witnessed miracles. They had seen Lazarus walk out of his tomb after being dead for four days. They had watched as Jesus fed thousands with just a few loaves and fish. The supernatural power was undeniable, and the people wanted more.

But here’s where things went wrong: they loved the miracles more than they loved the Miracle-Worker.

Think about it this way. Imagine planning a family trip to Disneyland. You pack the car, drive to the ferry, cross to France, and head toward Paris. Then, the moment you see the first sign pointing to “Euro Disney,” you stop the car, get out, and announce to your children, “We’re here! This is it!” You can imagine their disappointment.

That’s exactly what the crowds did with Jesus. They stopped at the signs instead of following them to their true destination. The miracles weren’t meant to be the endpoint—they were meant to point to something infinitely greater: the identity of Jesus Himself.

What Are You Going to Do for Me?

After Jesus fed the five thousand, the crowds followed Him eagerly. But when Jesus confronted them about their motives, He revealed an uncomfortable truth: “You’re looking for me, not because you saw the sign, but because you ate the loaves and were filled” (John 6:26).

They weren’t seeking Jesus for who He was. They were seeking Him for what He could do for them.

Their question to Jesus was essentially: “What’s next? What are you going to perform for us now?”

How often do we approach Jesus the same way? We come to Him when we need something—healing, provision, answers, comfort. We love Him when He meets our needs. But do we love Him for who He is, regardless of what He does for us?

Jesus kept redirecting the crowds to the real question: “This is the work of God—that you believe in the one he has sent” (John 6:29). The miracles were never about the bread or the healing. They were about revealing the identity of the One who could provide eternal sustenance and complete restoration.

The Claims That Cost Him Everything

So who did Jesus claim to be? The Gospel of John opens with one of the most staggering declarations in all of Scripture:

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. All things were created through him, and apart from him not one thing was created that has been created… The Word became flesh and dwelt among us” (John 1:1-3, 14).

Jesus wasn’t just another prophet or miracle worker. He claimed to be God in human form. He said things like:

• “If you’ve seen me, you’ve seen the Father”
• “I and the Father are one”
• “No one comes to the Father except through me”

These weren’t the words of a good moral teacher. They were the claims of someone who was either exactly who He said He was—or completely delusional.

The religious authorities understood the implications perfectly. Jesus was dismantling their entire system. For generations, they had been the gatekeepers between God and the people. They controlled access to the divine through temple sacrifices and religious rituals. They held the monopoly on what God was like and how people could approach Him.

Then Jesus came along and said, “Actually, if you want to know what God is like, look at Me. I am the way into the Father’s presence. Not through sacrifices in the temple, but through Me.”

This is what got Him killed. Not the miracles—the identity claims.

The Choice We All Must Make

Jesus gives us only two options: crown Him or kill Him. There is no middle ground.

We can’t treat Jesus like a cosmic vending machine, inserting our prayers and expecting our desired outcomes. We can’t reduce Him to a miracle-worker who exists to meet our needs. We can’t make Him a supporting character in the story of our lives.

Jesus stepped forward in the Garden of Gethsemane “knowing all that would happen to him” (John 18:4). When the soldiers came to arrest Him, He could have called down legions of angels. Instead, He went willingly. Why? “For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame” (Hebrews 12:2).

The joy set before Him was you. It was me. It was the church—His people coming into His presence, restored and redeemed.

No one took His life from Him. He gave it freely. The wood and nails that held Him to the cross were sustained by His own word, because nothing exists apart from Him. He is that powerful, that sovereign, that in control—and He chose the cross for us.

The Lamb Who Was Slain

The story doesn’t end at the cross, and it doesn’t even end at the empty tomb. In the book of Revelation, we get a glimpse of Jesus making one final entrance—not as a baby in a manger, not riding on a donkey, but as a slaughtered Lamb standing in the throne room of God.

When the question is asked, “Who is worthy to open the scroll?” the answer comes: “The Lion from the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, has conquered.”

But when John looks, he sees a Lamb—bearing the marks of slaughter, yet standing victorious.

And all of creation falls down in worship, singing: “Worthy is the Lamb who was slaughtered to receive power and riches and wisdom and strength and honor and glory and blessing!” (Revelation 5:12).

This is who Jesus is. This is who we’re invited to know, to love, to worship.

Counting Everything as Loss

The apostle Paul, who had every earthly credential and advantage, wrote: “I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish compared to the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, and being found in him” (Philippians 3:8).

When we truly see Jesus for who He is—when we encounter the Lamb who was slain, now seated at the right hand of the Father—everything else fades into insignificance.

It doesn’t matter if we’re full or hungry, rich or poor, comfortable or suffering. Because we have Him.

Jesus doesn’t promise to fill our bellies, give us money, or ensure we have nice things. But He promises something infinitely better: eternal security, peace that surpasses understanding, and joy to the fullest—because it’s found in Him.

The Question That Remains

So who is Jesus to you?

Is He the miracle-worker you turn to when you need something? Is He the problem-solver you call on in emergencies? Or is He the King of your life, the Lord of everything, the One worthy of all praise regardless of your circumstances?

The crowds on Palm Sunday loved what Jesus could do. By Good Friday, when He didn’t meet their expectations of what the Messiah should be, they rejected Him.

Don’t make the same mistake.

Crown Him as King. Not because of what He might do for you, but because of who He is: the Word made flesh, the Light of the world, the Lamb who was slain, the One who holds all things together, the King of kings and Lord of lords.

He is worthy. Not of our conditional allegiance, but of our complete surrender.

Hosanna. The King has come.