hosanna

Twin themes of humility and repentance ran through our service today. An odd choice for the typically jubilant nature of Palm Sunday, you might think; let me explain.

Pilgrims coming from distant villages for Passover flooded into the lanes and gates surrounding Jerusalem. Along with their traveling bags, they brought with them new stories of the miracle maker: His healings, wise teachings, acts of compassion and mercy. Prophecies foretelling the Messiah were searched out and examined; zealots hungry for Rome’s overthrow whipped the crowd into fever pitch. Some were caught up in the general excitement. Others were certain that this man—riding in on a donkey colt as the prophets had described—would be the one to save them from tyranny and usher in a new Jewish kingdom.

Placing in the road before Him a carpet of coats and freshly cut branches, they cried, “Hosanna to the Son of David; Blessed is He who comes in the Name of the Lord; Hosanna in the highest!” (Matt. 21:9)

How swiftly the wind can change! Mere days later, these very same crowds would have a startlingly different cry on their lips. If the exultant pilgrims had stopped to examine the meaning of their words, would they have realized “Hosanna” is a humble cry for salvation? Would they have seen that the “Son of David” whom they praised had come to proclaim a Kingdom of the Spirit?

If we could go back 2000 years and experience the Triumphal Entry firsthand, what would our place have been in the crowd? Of course we would like to see ourselves shouting His praise, lifting our voices in exuberant song. We would strip off our outer garments and spread them before Jesus, making His way smooth and full of honor; we’d hack branches from obliging palm trees and wave them over Him in giddy delirium, full of exaltation that the long-awaited One has come at last. Surely we, like Peter, would be ready to lay our lives down for Him, go with Him to the end; even if others turned back, we would never desert Him!

Except … how many of us, like Peter, would be allowing our pride to set us up for a painful fall?

Returning to today: our world is being shaken in unprecedented ways. Cultures are shifting, governments scrambling, economies and industries are shuddering at the core. Nations, communities, family units, and individuals are being forced to examine long-held assumptions and realign their priorities. Fear is rampant, heroes abound; the best and worst of human nature is bubbling up for all to see.

Where will this time of shaking leave us? If we allow ourselves to get swept up in the crowd, we will be just as likely to shout “Crucify!” as we are to sing “Hosanna!” But what if we were to listen to a different Voice? If we humble ourselves and admit our own inadequacy, if we allow our Lord to lead us into a quiet place of repentance, of belief, and trust, then this can be a time of transformation, rather than destruction.

As we walk through this sacred, soul-shaking Holy Week, let us step softly. Let us slip from beneath the weight of tradition and allow the Spirit to sift our hearts. If we long to be among the few, the faithful, weeping at the foot of the Cross, encountering the empty tomb with wonder and delight, then let us begin here: with humility, and with repentance.

Shalom.