02 Apr SUNDAY, APRIL 2, 2023

One of the reasons I dread reenacting Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem is because it contrasts so greatly with his excruciating exit. It’s painful to hear how he was betrayed by not only Judas, but by every local in town. I hate knowing that many who cursed him had been healed by him.

How many walked to that procession who couldn’t walk before? How many could now enter town limits and mingle with the crowd free from a cursed disease that previously forced them into exile? How many families in the valley, I mean in the towns surrounding Jerusalem, had experienced benefit thanks to Jesus and his disciples? It seems to me like the positive energy surrounding shouts of, “Hosanna,” becomes twisted with evil. How could so many so easily and quickly forget the good associated with Jesus?

In fact, their cry was not a falsehood. “Hosanna” is not only an adulation of praise. It’s a cry for help. It isn’t the same as cheering. It falls into the grammatical category of an interjection, a word or phrase used to express feeling, request or demand something. Interjections are often punctuated with exclamation points like, “Wow,” or “Stop!”

Hosanna literally means, “Oh, save. Save us, now.” What the crowd shouted during Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem and what they shouted before a governor named Pilate was one in the same message.They just happened to be unaware that in both scenes their cry acknowledged the same thing: Jesus’ kingship and power to save.

Oh, save. Save us, now.

So now, I don’t hear their shouts as betrayal. I hear them as an admission of truth. Jesus gained momentum from the crowd’s energy both times. He wasn’t defeated; he was inspired not only by their cheers, but by their threats. Jesus knew all along what the outcome would be. His goal was one in the same with God’s: to save them all.

Palm Sunday is not a reenactment of human betrayal and guilt. It’s a reminder of what God requires: admission from the crowd of two things: that we desperately need saving and that for some reason, salvation had to occur the way it did, through death upon a cross.

Sin was not lifted up triumphant on that day; Jesus was. Our sin nailed him there, but by his wounds, he took each and every sin to the grave. Evil does not triumph, in fact, it is silenced. That’s why in silence, we read the words, “Let him be crucified.” That his blood would be upon us and our children was a good thing, not a curse.

Another reason I dislike reenacting the passion of Christ is because it hurts to imagine anyone being swept away by evil and victimized. In a chapter entitled, “Boundaries and God,” from a book authored by Drs. Cloud and Townsend called Boundaries, these words address all the events of Holy Week.

“God is free from us. When doing something for us,

he does it out of choice,

not under compulsion, guilt or manipulation.

He dies for us, because he wants to.

We can rest in his pure love.

He has no hidden resentment about what happened.

His freedom allows him to love.”

Sallianne’s about to sing these lyrics, “Through boundless love, the Christ of Bethlehem brings forth hope to thee forevermore.” Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord. Let us pray.

Lord, you obeyed your Father’s will unto death, but “sometimes we need a more compelling reason than obedience. We need to see that what is right is also good for us. And we usually only see good reason when we’re in pain. Pain motivates us to act,” and cry, “Hosanna. Save us.” Thank you for saving us through boundless love and giving us hope forevermore. IYHNWP, Amen.