The Week Everything Changed: Mark's Account of the Final Days of Jesus

They say my Gospel reads like a Passion narrative with a long introduction. If that’s true—then I agree with them.

I’ve heard readers say it: that everything in my writing has been moving toward this final week. The healings, the parables, the authority, the tension—all of it presses forward until it breaks open in these last seven days. This is not just the end of the story. It is the story’s turning point. The decisive pivot in the unfolding drama of the Kingdom breaking in—a kingdom that continues to advance even now, unfinished and still surprising us.

So let me take you back there just as others have taken me.

The Beginning of the End

It was nearing Passover. The city was swelling with well over a hundred thousand Jews—some estimates say as many as 150,000 to 250,000—who had arrived for the festival. It was a time to remember their deliverance from Egypt and to offer sacrifices at the temple, as the Law commanded. For many, it was the most important journey of the year—a pilgrimage tied not just to tradition, but to identity, obedience, and hope. A hope that one day they would be out from under the rule of Rome. For some, their very presence in Jerusalem at Passover was also a symbol of solidarity—a statement to Rome that the Jewish people were still a force to be reckoned with, a shaking fist in the face of “the man.”

Jerusalem, receiving over two times its normal population in Jewish visitors, was now packed beyond capacity. The streets were tight with people. Vendors, animals, families, travelers—all pressed in, shoulder to shoulder. The Roman authorities were well aware of the potential for unrest during this time, and they had increased their military presence in the city, this included the arrival of Pontious Pilot who normally did not reside there. Temple guards stood watch. Soldiers patrolled. Everyone could feel the weight of the season.

With all the energy and commotion of the week—the noise, the movement, the layered tensions, Jesus walked straight in or rather rode straight in. From what I understand his arrival didn’t stir immediate alarm with the authorities. The crowd around him was loud, yes, but it blended into a city already overwhelmed. The Roman authorities had their hands full. To them, this might have looked like just one more group adding to the chaos. But Jesus knew exactly what he was doing—and who would eventually take notice.

Jesus and his disciples were approaching Jerusalem. Near Bethphage and Bethany, Jesus paused and sent two of his disciples ahead to find a colt—a young donkey no one had ever ridden. It felt deliberate. Not improvised, not spontaneous. As if he had planned it.

“Go into the village,” he said, “and as you enter it, you’ll find a colt tied there. Untie it and bring it here.”

The people lined the road as he rode into the city. Cloaks thrown on the road. Palm branches waving. Shouts of “Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”

It looked like a coronation.

This this wasn’t a power grab. It was a fulfillment. He was enacting the words of the prophet Zechariah: “See, your king comes to you, gentle and riding on a donkey.” He was showing them what kind of king he was: not mounted on a war horse, but on a colt. Not conquering by force, but arriving in peace.[i]

Not the King They Expected

Many who waved those branches expected a revolution. They saw the palm as a symbol of national deliverance. Of David restored. Of Rome overthrown.

But the revolution Jesus came to bring was deeper, quieter, and more subversive. His was a kingdom that would not bow to Herod or Caesar—or even to the sword. His arrival was a paradox: the King who conquers by being handed over. The Son of Man who reigns by being rejected.

My Gospel is not simply stories about Jesus but proclamations about how the kingdom of God was coming on earth as it is in heaven. That was what this entry was about—not a spectacle, but a declaration. One that few truly understood in the moment.[ii]

Some have called my Gospel an “apocalyptic biography”—and I see it. Jesus doesn’t just arrive to teach or to heal—he arrives to unveil. To reveal a hidden reality. His entry into Jerusalem pulled back the curtain and eventually tear it in two.[iii]

But what did it reveal?

The Unfolding Drama

It revealed the dividing line. The moment when those who had followed had to decide: was he the one we hoped for, or not? Was he the Messiah—or just another teacher with a short-lived movement?

I move from this moment of joyful arrival to confrontation, controversy, betrayal, and arrest in just days. But it all begins here. The first step toward the cross is taken not with resistance, but with obedience. And that obedience would cost him everything.

It took me time to understand it all. I head this story from different points of view as it had been passed down and interpreted.  I think see it now. The way he entered Jerusalem said everything. It wasn’t about taking military or political power. It was about giving that up.  He was teaching us all that his fellow Jews needed to change their course.  What they thought the Messiah would do wasn’t going to happen.  They needed to repent (change course) and start helping bring the real kingdom, the one that had true power here to earth.

Why It Matters

This was not just a parade. It was a pivot. A collision course between the Old Regimes and the New. Jesus was headed for a collision with both Jerusalem and Rome.

For some, this moment looked like victory. For others, it looked like blasphemy. But for Jesus, it was the beginning of the path he had been chosen for all along—the path of the suffering servant, the rejected stone, the crucified King.

And for me, in the story it was the moment I realized: you cannot follow this Jesus casually. You either throw your cloak down and shout Hosanna—or you harden your heart, testify against him, and help lead him to the cross.

 

—Mark

 

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[i] Bruce Metzger, A Textual Commentary on the Greek New Testament, for minor variants in Mark 11:1–11. Some manuscripts of Mark include slight variations in this section—details in how the crowd responds, how the disciples prepare the colt, or how Jesus interacts with the bystanders. But the core remains unchanged across the tradition: Jesus entered deliberately, with prophetic intent, and was welcomed like a king. For more on the political undertones of the triumphal entry, see Paula Fredriksen’s “Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews.”

[ii] Wright, N.T., “Mark for Everyone”

 

[iii] Bird, Michael, “The Gospel of the Lord,” where he describes Mark’s Gospel as an 'apocalyptic biography.'