“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.
I will cut off the chariot from Ephraim
and the war horse from Jerusalem;
and the battle bow shall be cut off,
and he shall speak peace to the nations;
his rule shall be from sea to sea,
and from the River to the ends of the earth.”
“Jesus bursts into tears . . . in them is distilled an eternity of grief. And although we know something of the brimming surface of those tears, we know nothing of the depths from which they are drawn. Nothing of the pain that lies at the watery depths of his heart. Nothing of the sorrow. Or of the sadness . . . He is going to his death. A horrible, shameful, humiliating death. He knows the pain will be unbearable . . . He knows the blessings outside the gate will turn to curses within. He knows the hands of praise will become fists of punishment. He knows the reverently placed palms will become a mocking reed scepter. But knowing all of this, Jesus does not weep for himself. He weeps for Jerusalem.”