Lord I want to be in that number?

First, let me remind you to check the Maundy Thurvey in the post that follows. The world would love to read your thoughts.

Earlier in the week I ranted a bit about the need to have the numbers. Popularity equals right. Popularity equals power.

Jesus had the numbers as he started the week riding into Jerusalem on the prophesied donkey. A large crowd welcomed him shouting "Hosanna, blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord, Hosanna, blessed is the Christ, the Son of David.'

He could have kept the crowds. He could have done a few more miracles, embarrassed the Romans, sucked up to the Pharisees and chief priests. He could have established himself in Jerusalem as the messiah they had been looking for, had been waiting for. He could have set up a nice little kingdom for himself right there, right then.

But something happened on the way to the coronation. Jesus went horribly off script. At least the script so many unholy ghostwriters then, and now, had written for him.

He threw the good businessmen out of the temple. He told stories in front of large crowds that embarrassed, even condemned the chief priests and pharisees. He talked of kingdoms and social revolution, which did not set well with the Romans. And Lord, where did he come up with the seven "Woes" speech? It made everyone mad.

So mad that it was obvious he was in trouble. Even those who might have wanted to hang in there with him were afraid for their life. If he wasn't committed to "winning," he was just going to make life hell for everybody who followed him. Trouble from the religious authorities and the Roman authorities. Who needed that?

So it was kind of remarkable that he had one hundred percent attendance at the Last Supper on Thursday night. But they came. Frightened. Confused. Not the large crowd. Just his real friends. The twelve.

The ones he served the sader, the ones whose feet he washed, and the only ones, as far as we know, to whom he spoke the words, "this is my body broken for you, this is my blood shed for you. As often as you eat and drink these simple things, probably every meal, remember me and what we have shared."

Only twelve.

Not big numbers.

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