What Does It Mean to Throw Your Life to Jesus? | Mark 11:7-10

What Does It Mean to Throw Your Life to Jesus? | Mark 11:7-10

By Pastor Autry Watkins IV | Transformation Church | November 15, 2025

We live in a culture that whispers incessantly about self-preservation. Protect your boundaries. Guard your time. Build your platform. Secure your future. But what if the path to true life requires us to do something that feels utterly foolish by worldly standards—to throw our lives away? When the crowds in Mark 11 spread their cloaks on the road before Jesus, they weren't just being ceremonial. They were making themselves vulnerable, literally putting their possessions under the hooves of a donkey. This wasn't careful Christianity. This wasn't measured devotion with emergency exits. This was abandonment. The triumphal entry forces us to ask uncomfortable questions: What are we actually willing to sacrifice for Christ? Have we given Him our Sunday mornings but kept our Monday ambitions? Our religious activity but not our life direction? Our words but not our wallets? The crowds threw their cloaks. What will we throw?

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The Scandal of a King Who Requires Everything

Mark 11:7-10 presents us with a King unlike any the world had ever seen: "And they brought the colt to Jesus and threw their cloaks on it, and he sat on it. And many spread their cloaks on the road, and others spread leafy branches that they had cut from the fields. And those who went before and those who followed were shouting, 'Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the coming kingdom of our father David! Hosanna in the highest!'" The scene is loaded with Old Testament expectation. These Jewish pilgrims knew Zechariah 9:9: "Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion! Shout aloud, O daughter of Jerusalem! Behold, your king is coming to you; righteous and having salvation is he, humble and mounted on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey." They believed the Messiah was coming to overthrow Rome, to restore Israel's glory, to make them great again. But here's where Jesus always disrupts our expectations. This King was riding toward a cross, not a palace. He was coming to die, not to conquer (at least not in the way they imagined). The cloaks thrown on the road would be matched by clothes gambled away at His crucifixion. The shouts of "Hosanna" would turn to "Crucify Him" within days. The crowds wanted a King who would serve their agenda. Jesus demanded followers who would abandon their own. This is the scandal that still confronts us today: Jesus doesn't negotiate. He doesn't say, "Give me 20% and we'll call it good." He says, "Whoever does not take his cross and follow me is not worthy of me" (Matthew 10:38). He demands not a portion but possession—total, absolute, joyful surrender. Why? Because He's worth it. Because nothing else can satisfy the depths of our souls. Because every lesser king will ultimately disappoint us and enslave us.

And they brought the colt to Jesus and threw their cloaks on it, and he sat on it. And many spread their cloaks on the road, and others spread leafy branches that they had cut from the fields. And those who went before and those who followed were shouting, 'Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the coming kingdom of our father David! Hosanna in the highest!' — Mark 11:7-10

Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion! Shout aloud, O daughter of Jerusalem! Behold, your king is coming to you; righteous and having salvation is he, humble and mounted on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey. — Zechariah 9:9

Whoever does not take his cross and follow me is not worthy of me. — Matthew 10:38

Throwing Your Cloaks: The Theology of Radical Surrender

Those cloaks were more than fabric. In the ancient world, your outer garment was often your most valuable possession—your blanket at night, your protection from elements, your badge of identity. When the crowds threw their cloaks on the road, they were literally putting their security under the feet of Jesus. This is the picture of biblical surrender. Paul captures it perfectly in Philippians 3:7-8: "But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ." Notice Paul's accounting language: gain, loss, counting, worth. He's done the math. He's calculated the value. And his conclusion? Everything he once treasured—his pedigree, his education, his religious achievements, his reputation—is literally "rubbish" (the Greek word is far stronger) compared to knowing Christ. This isn't masochism. This isn't a morbid devaluing of good things. This is the joyful recognition that we've found the pearl of great price, and we're gladly selling everything to obtain it (Matthew 13:45-46). The theological foundation here is crucial: We can only throw our lives to Christ when we're convinced of His supreme value. Reformed theology calls this "union with Christ"—the reality that when we're joined to Him by faith, we gain everything that matters. Romans 8:32 assures us: "He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?" We throw our cloaks not because God is a cosmic killjoy demanding sacrifice, but because He's already given us His Son, and with Him, everything we truly need. Our surrender isn't the pathway to earning God's favor—it's the response to having already received it through Christ's finished work. We love because He first loved us. We give because He first gave. We throw because He threw Himself into death for us.

But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ. — Philippians 3:7-8

Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls, who, on finding one pearl of great value, went and sold all that he had and bought it. — Matthew 13:45-46

He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? — Romans 8:32

When Throwing Your Life Looks Foolish to Everyone Else

Here's where the gospel confronts our comfortable, respectable Christianity. Those disciples throwing their cloaks on a dusty Palestinian road looked ridiculous. They were worshiping a carpenter's son riding a borrowed donkey. They were proclaiming a kingdom that had no army, no palace, no political machinery. By the standards of Roman power and Jewish religious establishment, they were fools. The apostle Paul embraces this in 1 Corinthians 1:18-25: "For the word of the cross is folly to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God... For the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men." The gospel has always made its adherents look foolish to the world. Consider what throwing your life to Christ might require in 2025: It might mean choosing a lower-paying job because it allows you to serve your family and church better. It might mean forgoing the promotion that would require compromising your integrity. It might mean adopting children when your friends are maximizing their freedom. It might mean staying in a difficult marriage and fighting for reconciliation when everyone says you deserve better. It might mean giving sacrificially to missions when you could be building your retirement fund. It might mean speaking truth in a culture that demands you affirm lies, knowing it will cost you friendships and opportunities. The world—and often the church—will call this foolishness. They'll say you're being irresponsible. Unwise. Extreme. But here's the liberating truth: Jesus has already secured our approval by His perfect life and substitutionary death. We don't need the world's applause. We don't need to protect our reputations. We don't need to play it safe. As Hebrews 11:26 says of Moses, we can consider "the reproach of Christ greater wealth than the treasures of Egypt," because we're "looking to the reward." Our King rode into Jerusalem on a donkey knowing He was headed to a cross. He calls us to follow Him on that same narrow road, trusting that resurrection always follows crucifixion for those who are in Him.

For the word of the cross is folly to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. For it is written, 'I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, and the discernment of the discerning I will thwart.' Where is the one who is wise? Where is the scribe? Where is the debater of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world? — 1 Corinthians 1:18-25

He considered the reproach of Christ greater wealth than the treasures of Egypt, for he was looking to the reward. — Hebrews 11:26

Enter by the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the way is easy that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few. — Matthew 7:13-14

The King Who Threw His Life for You

But here's where we must anchor everything in gospel truth, lest this become mere moralism: We can only throw our lives to Christ because He first threw His life away for us. Mark 11 is the beginning of Passion Week. Jesus is riding toward the cross with clear-eyed determination. In John 10:17-18, He declares: "For this reason the Father loves me, because I lay down my life that I may take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have authority to lay it down, and I have authority to take it up again." Jesus didn't stumble into crucifixion. He wasn't a victim of circumstances or Roman injustice. He deliberately, willingly, joyfully threw His life into death so that we might have life. This is substitutionary atonement in all its bloody, beautiful glory: "For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God" (2 Corinthians 5:21). Every call to radical discipleship must be rooted here. We don't throw our lives to Jesus to earn His favor—He's already thrown His life away to secure it for us. We don't surrender to prove our worthiness—He's already clothed us in His perfect righteousness. We don't sacrifice to pay our debt—He's already cried, "It is finished," from the cross. Our throwing is responsive, not meritorious. It's the overflow of gratitude, not the attempt to earn grace. And here's the glorious promise: The King who demands everything is the same King who provides everything. He gives us His Spirit to empower our obedience. He gives us His Word to guide our steps. He gives us His church to sustain us in the journey. He gives us His presence that never leaves or forsakes us. When we throw our cloaks, we're not left naked—we're clothed with Christ Himself.

For this reason the Father loves me, because I lay down my life that I may take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have authority to lay it down, and I have authority to take it up again. — John 10:17-18

For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God. — 2 Corinthians 5:21

For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ. — Galatians 3:27

I will never leave you nor forsake you. — Hebrews 13:5

Application

So what does this mean for us on Monday morning? How do we actually throw our lives to Christ in the mundane realities of 2025? Start by examining your cloaks—what are you holding back? Is it your career ambitions? Your financial security? Your reputation? Your comfort? Your time? Your children's futures? Bring them before the Lord and ask: "Am I willing to put this under the feet of Jesus?" Second, identify one specific area where you've been playing it safe spiritually. Maybe it's a conversation you need to have. A relationship you need to reconcile. A sin you need to confess. A risk you need to take for the kingdom. A financial decision that requires faith. Do the next right thing, even if it feels foolish. Third, preach the gospel to yourself daily. Remind yourself that Christ has already thrown His life away for you. Your acceptance is secure. Your identity is settled. Your future is guaranteed. You can risk everything because He's already given you everything that matters. Here are diagnostic questions for your heart: What am I afraid of losing if I fully surrender to Christ? Where am I still trying to negotiate with Jesus rather than fully submit to Him? Am I more concerned with the world's approval or Christ's glory? What would radical obedience look like in my specific circumstances this week? Am I trusting Christ's provision enough to throw my security at His feet? Remember: This isn't about manufactured intensity or works-righteousness. It's about joyful abandonment to the One who is infinitely worthy, infinitely trustworthy, and infinitely generous toward those who are His.

The crowds threw their cloaks. Some did it out of genuine devotion. Others did it caught up in the moment. Within days, many would disappear when following Jesus became costly. But there's a remnant who stayed—who continued throwing their lives to Jesus even when He hung on a cross, even when the tomb was sealed, even when hope seemed lost. And they were there when He rose. They were there when the Spirit came. They were there when the gospel exploded across the Roman Empire. Dear Christian, throw your life to the Most High. Not to earn His love—you already have it in Christ. Not to prove your worth—He's already declared you righteous. But because He's worthy of everything you are and everything you have. And because a life thrown to Him is the only life that's truly found.

For Further Reflection

What specific "cloaks" (possessions, ambitions, securities) is the Holy Spirit prompting you to throw at Jesus' feet right now?

How does understanding Christ's substitutionary atonement change the way we approach radical obedience and surrender?

In what areas of your life are you still trying to negotiate with Jesus rather than fully submit to His lordship?

How can we distinguish between godly wisdom and worldly wisdom when making decisions that require faith and sacrifice?

What would it look like for you to embrace the "foolishness" of the gospel in your specific context this week, even if it costs you the approval of others?