It seems that every year as I look at the accounts of the last week of Jesus’s life, something new pops to the foreground. I find myself saying to myself, “I never saw that before! How did I miss seeing that all these years?”

This time around I am noticing, or I am being made aware of, the seemingly random people who are nevertheless critical to the events of that last week.

There is the owner of the donkey and its colt. Jesus instructs two of his disciples, very specifically, that upon entering the village in front of them, they will find a donkey and its colt which they are to untie and bring to him. If anyone asks them what they are doing by taking these animals, they are to explain their actions with these words, “The Lord has need of it.”

Sure enough, as the two disciples are untying the animals, its owner understandably asks, “Why are you untying the colt? (Lk.19:33) “The Lord needs it and will bring them back immediately”, they replied and the owner let them take the animals.

The circumstances of this story are peculiar, as the unsuspecting owner of the animals is swept up into the final account of Jesus’s life.

Then there is the woman who enters Simon the leper’s house, breaks her alabaster jar and pours out pure, pungent nard on Jesus’s head. The disciples are indignant because of this woman’s impulsive, wastefully disruptive act. “And they scolded her.” (Mk.14:5) Jesus comes to her defense. “Leave her alone. Why do you trouble her?” What they saw as irresponsible and wasteful behavior was actually prophetic – anointing Jesus’s body beforehand for burial, and deeply profound – what she has done will be told in memory of her wherever the gospel is proclaimed in the whole world!!! (Mk.14:9) How could she have known that her lavish act of love would have such significance.

There is another unusual encounter with two figures in the preparation of the Passover meal. Jesus sends two of his disciples into Jerusalem. “Go into the city, and a man carrying a jar of water will meet you. Follow him, and wherever he enters, say to the master of the house, ‘Where is my guest room, where I may eat the Passover meal with my disciples?’” (Mk.14:13,14) A man carrying a jar of water? This is highly unusual behavior for a first century Jewish man. Who is this man and why was he carrying water? Did he know to meet the disciples?  And who is the master whose house he enters? How did he know to have a room furnished and ready to host this holy meal?

Simon of Cyrene is described as a mere “passerby who was coming in from the country”, the father of Alexander and Rufus. Suddenly he is hauled out of the crowd and compelled to carry the cross under which Jesus is stumbling. The bloodied beam is placed on Simon’s back as he marches in the chaotic procession up to Golgotha. No one other than his executioners is as close to Jesus as Simon as he follows him on this final ascent. No one heard his reply as clearly to the women on the way who were mourning and lamenting. “Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me, but weep for yourselves and for your children.” (Lk.23:28) How could he have known that on his way to celebrate Passover he would intercept the march to the cross.

So here we have these people, some whose names we know, Mary and Simon, others unnamed, the owner of the donkeys, the man carrying the jar of water, the master of the home that housed the upper room. Each of these people played a significant role in the Easter story. What if the man with the donkeys refused to let the disciples take them? What if Mary had taken the disciples’ advice and sold her bottle of nard and given the proceeds to the poor? What if the man carrying the water jar had refused to do so because it was not considered to be “man’s work”. What if the master of the house thought it would be too risky for him to have Jesus and his disciples in his home? What if Simon had decided that the trip from Cyrene (Libya) was too far and costly to come to Jerusalem for Passover? What is my point?

All of these people played a critical role in the final days of Jesus’s life but not because they planned it that way. Obviously we know none of the back story to each of these individuals and events, but there were decisions made along the way that positioned them to say yes. Yes, you can take my animals, yes, you can use my upper room for the Passover meal, yes, I will carry the water jar even if people will think less of me, yes, I will used my most valued possession to express the depth of my love for Jesus, yes, I will make my way to Jerusalem in obedience to Torah and to honor God. Did they know that their yesses would hold such significance? Did they realize that by saying yes, they would be fulfilling Old Testament prophecy? Could Simon have known that by saying yes, he would be walking behind the Passover Lamb of God, whose sacrifice would atone for the sins of the whole world? 

The answer to all of these is, “Of course not!”. In the course of making ordinary decisions, difficult decisions, scary decisions, costly decisions, decisions made to honor God with our time, our possessions, our reputation, our convenience, we are positioning ourselves to be written into God’s story. This is what encourages me as I read through the end of the gospels and consider these people, whose yesses allowed them to be so intricately woven into the salvation story. It is not just them though. It is us as well. Our yesses to God have more consequences than we could possibly know. Our yesses matter because they please and honor the One we love. Our yesses position us to be used in ways that we may never know about in this lifetime but in God’s economy, our yesses are woven into His redemption story.