Hindsite

Palm Sunday | March 28, 2021

Isaiah 50:4-9a
Mark 11:1-11

You know the phrase, “Hindsight is 20/20?” It means, of course, that when you look back on things, everything leading up to an event seems obvious—predictable—even avoidable. Sports fans can review plays and just ‘know’ that, had they been the ones to make the calls, they would have set things up differently. Clearly, they would have run instead of passed, or shot instead of dribbled. It’s so obvious—looking back on it.

It’s called Hindsight Bias. “Hindsight bias is a filter our brains use to tell us that events in the past follow a logical pattern. Since we know how the event turned out we can see the whole story from start to finish, which makes us think the story was predictable back when it first started.”[1]

It helps us make sense of events—drawing logistical lines from moment to moment leading up to the event in question. We do this as Christians all the time. We read from the Old Testament and think, “This is really a passage about Jesus!” Or we look at the gospels and wonder how the disciples could have been so dense. We raise our palm branches and sing “All Glory, Laud, and Honor” with gusto, knowing that though Jesus was mocking the Roman rule with his little parade on a donkey, knowing that both Jewish and Roman leaders would understand his subtle threats to their claim to power, knowing that threatening those that hold the cards can only end one way—we sing with gusto. Because we know the end of the story: that Jesus defeats death.

So, we look back on this entry into Jerusalem and think, “Well, of course. It all makes perfect sense. He’s coming in from the east on a donkey just as Pilate is coming in from the west on his steed, followed by an army. He’s making a counter-argument to Rome. He’s preparing the people for the Messiah. Hooray! Hosanna!”

But we forget that this wasn’t going through the minds of the disciples or the people who came out to meet him on the road. I wonder what they were thinking. Were they confused? Like, should they go meet Jesus…or join the crowds welcoming Pilate? If Jesus isn’t the promised one, what will happen if they’re caught on his side? I wonder if they automatically caught the connections between the donkey Jesus rides in on and the promises of Zechariah. I wonder if they were hoping to get Jesus to recognize their expectations by spreading cloaks and branches before him just like the people did after the Maccabean Revolt. I wonder if their hunger for justice was stronger than their hunger for their own safety; if their longing for God’s kingdom was enough for them to risk taking a stand against the Roman Empire.

I wonder what they thought when, after all the hoopla as Jesus came into the city, all he did was stand in the Temple, look around for a bit, and then leave. “Is that it? Wasn’t there supposed to be a calling upon the angelic host from the pinnacle of the Temple?” Perhaps they thought that Jesus was spreading things out—saving the best for the celebration of the Passover. Well, in that case, they were right. And yet, so wrong.

I wonder, after it all fell apart, and he’s hanging on the cross, what they thought as they looked back upon the day of celebration and fanfare. Did they think, “We should have known. We should have seen it coming. How did we miss the signs? He was on a donkey! A beast of burden. What king does that? Oh, how foolish we were.”

Hindsight is 20/20.

You know, as we look upon this past year, could we have possibly known what the year would bring? Could we have anticipated the angst, the divides, the death toll, the longings, the loneliness, the weariness, the ugliness that so naturally sprouted from within? Could we have known how much we would miss one another? How much we would hurt each other?

If you were to go back to last February, what advice would you give yourself? For me, one thing I would tell myself is that I shouldn’t let the technology do all the work. I’ve spent more time on the computer developing, creating, planning, and designing, not to mention meetings, than ever before—but less time connecting personally. I would also remind myself that this pandemic won’t last forever—that the shadow of death never gets the last word—and that sometimes we need to hear a word of hope before we can bear another message of challenge—especially when it feels like things are falling apart. I would tell myself to enjoy the little moments—and to not spend so much time and money on Amazon. I would armchair-quarterback the hell out of myself. But in truth, it’s all hindsight. It’s all about what I’ve learned going through it—and preparing to come out of it.

And as we anticipate coming out of the pandemic, as more and more people are vaccinated, as fewer people are at risk for exposure, I wonder what we’ve learned. I wonder who we want to be on the other side. Have we learned to make time for what is important? Or have we simply learned how to multitask and work in more meetings because we can zoom from anywhere? Can we be different—or will we settle for going back to the way things were?

I love the video poem created by a British group called Tomfoollery. The poem is called “The Great Realisation.” In the video, a man is putting his child to bed, when the child says,


“Tell me the one about the virus again.
Then, I’ll go to bed.”
“But, my boy, you’re growing weary,
Sleepy thoughts about your head.”

“Please, that one’s my favourite.
I promise, just once more.”
“Okay, snuggle down, my boy,
Though I know you know full well,
The story starts before then,
In a world I once would dwell.”

It was a world of waste and wonder.
Of poverty and plenty,
Back before we understood
Why hindsight’s 2020.

You see, the people came up with companies
To trade across all lands.
But they swelled and got much bigger
Than we ever could have planned.

We’d always had our wants
But now, it got so quick.
You could have anything you dreamed of
In a day, and with a click.

We noticed families had stopped talking.
That’s not to say they never spoke.
But the meaning must have melted
And the work-life balance broke.

And the children’s eyes grew squarer
And every toddler had a phone
They filtered out the imperfections,
But amidst the noise, they felt alone.

And every day the skies grew thicker
Till you couldn’t see the stars,
So we flew in planes to find them,
While down below, we filled our cars.

We’d drive around all day in circles.
We’d forgotten how to run.
We swapped the grass for tarmacs
Shrunk the parks till there were none.

We filled the sea with plastic
Because our waste was never capped,
Until, each day, when you went fishing,
You’d pull them out already wrapped.

And while we drank and smoked and gambled,
Our leaders taught us why.
It’s best to not upset the lobbies,
More convenient to die.

But then, in 2020,
A new virus came our way.
The governments reacted
And told us all to hide away.

And while we all were hidden,
Amidst the fear and all the while
The people dusted off their instincts
They remembered how to smile.

They started clapping to say thank you,
And calling up their mums.
And while the car keys gathered dust
They would look forward to their runs.

And with the skies less full of voyagers,
The earth began to breathe.
And the beaches bore new wildlife
That scuttled off into the seas.

Some people started dancing,
Some were singing, some were baking.
We’d grown so used to bad news
But some good news was in the making.

And so when we found the cure
And were allowed to go outside,
We all preferred the world we found
To the one we’d left behind.

Old habits became extinct
And made way for the new
And every simple act of kindness
Was now given its due.

“But why did it take a virus
To bring the people back together?”
“Well, sometimes you’ve got to get sick, my boy,
Before you start feeling better.

Now lie down and dream of tomorrow
And all the things that we can do.
And, who knows, if you dream hard enough,
Maybe some of them will come true.

We now call it the Great Realisation
And yes, since then, there have been many.
But that’s the story of how it started
And why hindsight’s 2020.”[2]

We’ll eventually look back on this time as we do now with Jesus’ ride into Jerusalem and think it was all so predictable—so obvious. We’ll see the bigger picture and wonder how people could have possibly misunderstood or gotten it so wrong. But until we reach that perspective, we live in the messy middle, where it’s not quite so clear or obvious, where the outcome isn’t certain, and the pain is raw. And it’s okay to be in this place. It’s okay to be looking ahead and wondering what we’re in for next. Because, as we already know from that day 2,000+ years ago, God does the unpredictable—God dies. And Love wins. And viewing that in hindsight is where hope grows.

Pastor Tobi White
Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church
Lincoln, NE

[1] https://www.mymentalmodels.info/hindsight-bias-examples/

[2] https://robynobrien.com/hindsight-2020/