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Hosannah: The triumphal entry
The week before Jesus rose triumphantly from the tomb, He left the comforts of Bethany and went to Jerusalem. Along the way, Jesus sent two of His disciples to get a colt that had not been ridden before, not a stately steed but a donkey, ready and willing to serve his master. Upon this humble animal the King of Kings rode.
A crowd of believers gathered to give Jesus a royal welcome. As He descended the Mount of Olives and entered Jerusalem, they laid clothes on the ground and waved branches of palm trees. They called out, “Hosanna: Blessed is the King of Israel that cometh in the name of the Lord.” His followers rejoiced with such loud voices that some Pharisees asked if He couldn’t quiet them. Jesus answered, “If these should hold their peace, the stones would immediately cry out.” He was heralded as King of Heaven and Earth before offering His perfect life. He would bring victory over death, sin, and suffering. His was the greatest of all conquests. Although some passed by, preoccupied or skeptical, and gave Him no regard, those who had “eyes to see” saw their Saviour that day. They welcomed their King. And He received their praise. Humbly, ever so humbly, He accepted their devotion and fulfilled ancient prophecy.
The next day, Jesus cursed a fig tree for its hypocrisy. Its leaves, so healthy and vibrant, belied the fact that it bore no fruit. Unlike the fig tree, Jesus was everything He said He was. No hypocrisy was in Him. He Himself said, “I am the true vine.”
As our Lord entered into Jerusalem amid waving palm branches and shouts of adulation. He made His triumphant entrance riding upon a colt over the carefully placed clothing of believers. In His honour the great multitude cried, “Hosanna: Blessed is the King of Israel that cometh in the name of the Lord.” With celebrating crowds and pleas for deliverance, the Lord was surrounded by devoted followers who looked to Him for rescue and salvation. But He was the only one who knew of the loneliness ahead; He alone understood that some of those who stood with Him one day could reject Him the next. Just days later, His mortal life would end on the solitary, cruel cross of Calvary.
Sometimes, when all is well and friends abound, the tide can turn, people change, and, it seems, in an instant we’re alone. Once we revelled in the support of friends; now we feel abandoned. We look around for those who will stay with us through thick and thin. Many among us have felt the shallowness of the crowd, the fickleness of fans. The athlete who is cheered on one play, is booed the next; the actor who wins the critics’ acclaim for one role is vilified for the next. At times it may seem that no one can be counted on for long.
Fortunately, most of us know true loyalty because we’ve experienced it. If not, we can sow seeds of loyalty. We can be more trustworthy and reliable, welcoming these virtues into our lives. Loyalty and all its associated qualities are to be cherished and nurtured: We can be faithful to family, friends, and others in good and not-so-good times. We can be steadfast in our devotion to truth. We can be fair and treat people mercifully. In word and deed, we can be loyal not only to those who are present but also to those who are absent.
Jerusalem stirred with passion that Sunday before the Passover. Travellers had clustered there bringing sacrificial lambs. Coins clattered in coffers where pigeons were sold and in the temple yard, merchants were busy earning silver off the celebration. But above the hubbub hung a question, “Would the prophet from Galilee come?” “What think ye, that he will not come to the feast?” they asked one another.
Even as they wondered, Jesus Christ’s apostles had fetched Him a young donkey for His entry into the city. It was to be His last, and so He paused for a moment at the Mount of Olives, looking across at the golden city, and He wept—not for Himself, though He knew His death was imminent, but for Jerusalem, a city whose walls and children would be ground into the earth. Then He proceeded.
Word spread ahead that He was coming and as He did, the babble of voices united into an uproar of adulation. “Hosanna, to the Son of David,” they cried. “Blessed is He that cometh in the name of the Lord.” Even before He made it to the gates of the city, crowds were thronging the way, waving palm fronds and myrtle, spreading their garments in His path.
They were giving Him a Messianic welcome. For this moment, at least, they were His people, and He was their king. He came not with armies, but riding a gentle animal, and they believed they adored Him.
Where was this crowd just five days later when Jesus hobbled to Golgotha, bent under a cross? History does not tell us. Their shouts had been carried away on the wind, their palm fronds withered, and so Christ went alone to be crucified.
As we contemplate a lonely Saviour on a hillside cross, we may feel critical of this crowd whose love was so brief, but it should teach us something deeper. It is the human tendency for even the most righteous enthusiasm to wane. We are inspired, see with clarity and then the fog rushes in. We seek to proclaim our love of the Lord and then circumstances teach us forgetfulness. We mean to amend our character, and then the urgency leaves. We shout for the Lord one day and turn our backs the next. When we hope that we would have been one to rush out and carry His cross, we need to examine whether even now our shouts swell and ebb on a fickle wind.
He alone could descend below all and bring life and salvation to those who would humbly seek it. The Lord taught: “He that is greatest among you shall be your servant. And whosoever shall exalt himself shall be abased; and he that shall humble himself shall be exalted.”He invites us to come unto Him, to taste the sweetness of forgiveness and “gather fruit unto life eternal.” His promises are sure, His peace everlasting.
Far from the pulsating, indecisive crowd is One who slumbers not nor sleeps as He watches over us. His love is perfect, His fidelity unsurpassed. Quietly, and with unwavering loyalty, we can let Him in.
By Samuel Enos Eghan
THE journalist is a hunter. He goes after human rats and grasscutters personified, matters about whom he can salt and spice and present as news. The fatter and juicier the catch, the better, because sensation is essentially our cup of tea.
Our job is to sell news and sell it in grand style.
Because the journalist is a hunter and is created with a special kind of nose for sniffing out news, he is usually not welcome in many places. He is seen as someone who has been born to make people uncomfortable.
The problem is that some people don’t want things written about them even if it is promotional and favourable. When it entails publishing their pictures alongside the story, they are doubly scared.
“Please, don’t use my picture. People will think I’ve got money and come for loan,” someone told me.
Anyhow, journalists are seen as intruders, undesirables, born with plenty of okro in the mouth; maybe some also in the nose. Some of my friends are no longer too close because they fear I’d give them full coverage in the Sikaman Palava column. Ha ha ha! What a funny world!
Well, people like my Uncle, Sir Kofi Jogolo, my former classmate and born-mathematician, Kwame Korkorti, and ex-football star cum human-salamander Kofi Kokotako don’t mind featuring in the hilarious inches of this column. Kofi Owuo alias Death By Poverty is one personality who has to be mentioned in this palaver.
These are people who are going to live long, primarily because they see the world as one big ball of fun. When Kwame Korkorti was told that his dear mother was dead at home, he smiled and asked the bearer of the message whether his mother had cooked the afternoon meal before claiming she was dead. Until her death, Korkorti ate his lunch at his mother’s end.
When my Uncle Kofi Jogolo was picked and lost 1,500 dollars and a good amount of Sikaman currency, he didn’t lament the loss. Instead he was amused. In fact, he was almost glad about it, because he grinned from ear to ear, stroked his delicate moustache and congratulated the thief, adding that “He is smarter than I am.” Yeah, Jogolo is the man who employs a Swedish barber to trim his moustache.
And when Kofi Kokotako was unemployed and was nearly hit by an articulated truck, he called the driver a fool. “The idiot should have killed me,” he said to me. “Didn’t he know I was unemployed and suffering?”
Today, Kokotako is employed as a Reverend and is not doing badly at all. Thanks to the regular silver collection.
And what about Kofi Owuo, the celebrated poor man. His wife left him not because he was poor, but because he swore in front of her that he would never prosper.
The following dawn the wife packed bag and baggage and went back to her parents and told them all about her husband’s alliance with poverty. Her parents were bewildered and called the alliance unholy. They had no option than to send back Owuo’s drinks to end the marriage.
Kofi Owuo alias Death By Poverty did not contest the issue. He was more engrossed thinking about how to become poorer than to contest what he called a frivolous matter. The wife could go to hell, he said. These are people longevity smiles upon. Nothing worries them.
Getting back to talking about journalists. I’d say that anywhere there is journalism, the issue of press freedom is not too far away. Is the press free? That’s one question foreigners want answer to when they are on visit.
Well, journalists celebrate a yearly WORLD PRESS FREEDOM DAY to drum home the idea of press freedom as a very important thing in the practice of journalism.
This year’s was celebrated almost a fortnight ago but people didn’t see much of us because we are normally not good celebrants. We should have mounted a float to roam the entire capital, dancing asaboni to brass band music just like PTC did recently.
Although journalists are known to be very good dancers because they walk very much, on that day, they were all busy writing. It was the Minister of Information, Mr Kofi Totobi Quakyi who saved the day by addressing a forum organised to mark the day.
He is a man I’ve always admired since his radical university days. He spoke much on press freedom, cautioning the press not to abuse the freedom granted by the Fourth Republican constitution, but to use it for the progress of society.
Well, press freedom has been defined by many journalists as the freedom to ‘write nonsense’. This definition is not quite accurate. I asked one staff reporter to define press freedom. It took him fifteen minutes to put up something.
“Press freedom is the freedom that is enjoyed by the press that enables journalists to publish or broadcast any kind of material so long as it is absolutely true, is not libelous and slanderous, and is not against the national interest.”
I gave him eight out of 10, a straight A. I guess every journalist is old enough to know that certain things he or she writes is for or against the national interest. We certainly must guard against writing against the national interest; that is very important.
There is also the question of criticising government. The government can be criticized, so long as the criticisms are genuine and the President and his ministers are not insulted and called names. Let us criticize, but let us do it decently so that the journalistic profession can be revered, and its nobility acknowledged. We are not war mongers, are we?
One area in which journalists are not spoken well of is the complaint that they misquote people. Journalists sometimes misquote people, but in four out of five complaints it turns out that nobody is misquoted after all.
When we interview people they say things unreservedly and we publish unreservedly. When the publication is out and their friends or superiors read it and accuse them of having said too much to the press, then they start claiming they were misquoted.
We have encountered these ‘misquotation palaver’ every now and then and reporters are usually accused of this transgression. However, when they bring out their note-books or recorders, it is realised that they wrote nothing out of the way. “Book no lie”.
My advice to people who deal with the press is that if they do not want anything written, they shouldn’t say it. What they want to say is OFF-RECORD, then of course, there is no reason to say it. When you say it, you’re taking a risk. In that instance, you can’t also claim to have been misquoted or words put into your mouth.
And it isn’t every journalist who would be circumspect in matters that are supposed to be off-record, because journalists often want to be as sensational as possible to make their stories saleable. So say just what you want to see published and you won’t later regret it and claim you were misquoted.
Well, I’m not holding brief for journalists, because a few of us are notorious for colouring our reports sometimes sand-papering the words so much that they look very bright in front of readers.
As I once said, when the police tells one such notorious pressman that the thief stole a brown goat, the pressman would want to know whether the goat was bearded. Of course, the police would say ‘Yes’.
However, in the press report, it appears, “A gang of notorious goat-thieves were apprehended in the early hours of yesterday. In the car in which they were riding was a brownish-red goat having a long beard. Upon further examination, it was realised that the goat also had a greyish moustache.”
When the story appears, the police are naturally disturbed. A single thief turns out to be a gang of thieves. The goat also becomes a chameleon and changes colour to brownish-red. And a moustacheless goat overnight wears a greyish moustache whether you like it or not. Luckily the journalist does not add that the moustache was trimmed by a Swedish barber.
Yes, we have a few of such mischief-creating, chronically notorious journalists. But they are one in a hundred. In any case, we make the world. And we shall always do our best to make it a happy place to live in.
This article was first publish on Saturday, May, 20, 1995
When I hear of people who are of the opinion that they cannot make it in life unless they travel abroad, l become sad.
Whenever I see on TV, news of people, that is migrants who have drowned in the Mediterranean Sea, while attempting to cross to Europe, l become filled with sadness and then anger.
The underlying factor is desperation born out of loss of hope, in life. When an individual tends to believe that his only hope of making it in life is to travel abroad, the risk of dying at sea, does not deter him or her.
The role of some pastors on shaping the mindset of people, especially the youth, leaves much to be desired. You hear them declaring on various media platforms how they can pray for you to get a visa to travel abroad, instead of encouraging them to find something to do to improve their lives as the Bible teaches that God will bless the work of their hands.
The GREATER WORKS CONFERENCE is geared towards renewing the minds of people with a specific focus on people of African descent to rid themselves of the negative perception of lack of capacity to excel in life.
Pastor Mensa Otabil believes that every human being, no matter the skin colour, was created in the exact image of God and therefore has the capacity to do exploits.
The whiteman was not created in the image of God while the Blackman was created in the image of something other than God. The Black person therefore can achieve whatever the whiteman can achieve.
The development in terms of industrialisation that is lacking which has generated unemployment for the youth, is due to lack of effective leadership. The lack of moral integrity in society, is what is causing the lack of job opportunities, which is as a result of corrupt acts which drive away private investment.
A culture of inferiority complex exists which needs to be dealt with, so the African can develop the self worth necessary for personal development which can then result in capacity deployment to avhieve personal goals.
Success in life begins with the individual’s recognition that he or she is capable of achieving the dreams he or she has conceived in his or her mind. The Bible teaches that the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, and the knowledge of the holy is understanding according to Proverbs 9:10.
Christianity was the driving force behind the development of Europe because no society can sustain development without high moral values. GREATER WORKS therefore is a deliberate project to shape the minds of people, especially the youth, who will become the leaders of our future, to prioritise morality in their daily lives.
This is the only way to see a massive transformation in every aspect of our lives as Ghanaians and Africans in Ghana and the rest of the continent.
Since the inception of the GREATOR WORKS CONFERENCE, it has made a lot of impact in the lives of many people from the youth up to the senior citizens level. I recall the testimony of a church member who was motivated and pursued higher education and became one of the youngest Chartered Accountants in this country. Year after year, the impact of the conference has been enormous and lives in Ghana and across the continent, are being transformed.
Black people have started regaining their self confidence and the youth have started getting into areas that previously were considered out of bounds. At a personal level, certain ideas that some years ago, l would have not dreamt about suddenly has become realistic dreams.
The Christian lifestyle has impacted on my children and those close to me. Mindset change starts with one individual, then another and then gradually it spreads like a viral infection until a critical mass is attained and them a massive impact. There is hope for the future.
By Laud Kissi-Mensah
