Hosanna! shout the people, welcoming Jesus into the city, crowding the streets to see a new king, the Messiah, the Son of God they have been waiting for. Hosanna to the Son of David! Hosanna in the highest heaven!
Jesus is a king riding a donkey, not a warhorse. He does not carry a sword, he does not build monuments to himself, he does not require his face on the coins of the realm; he is a refugee, he is a carpenter, he is an itinerant preacher, he is a child born to poor unmarried parents. Can anything good come out of Nazareth?
Jesus says, love those who hate you; he says, God knows every sparrow that flies in the air; Jesus is ticking off the powers that be; he has been protesting in houses of worship, hanging out with women and fishermen; he is one of the marginalized, one of the poor. He does not dehumanize or take revenge on those who disagree with him. He is a different kind of king.
Hosanna! shout the people. Hosanna to the Son of David!
And, as we read the story and hear the story of Palm Sunday and Jesus’ entrance into Jerusalem – theologian and author Diana Butler Bass points out that Hosanna isn’t the word we think it is. She says she always thought it was something like the “A word” that we can’t say for another week. But, she says, actually Hosanna! in Hebrew, is not a shout of praise, but, essentially, a plea of desperation.
Hosanna, Diana Butler Bass says, means, save us. Please save us now. Save us from the empire. Save us from the emperors, from the soldiers in the streets, from the system which keeps us poor and downtrodden – save us from the wealthy and the powerful and the corrupt – save us from the crucifiers. Save us, king who rides into the city on a donkey and teaches and heals and shows mercy and preaches blessings down on everyone – everyone. Save us from the empire, the people beg this king Jesus who isn’t like any other king they’ve ever seen.
And then, days later:
Crucify him! shout the people. Crucify him! He is not our king.
Because this King Jesus isn’t like any other king they’ve ever seen. This is a king they can’t understand. He is supposed to bring peace, and instead he inspires riots. He is supposed to conquer the people’s enemies, and instead he’s gotten arrested by them. He is supposed to overthrow the Romans, and instead he’s on trial by them, and refuses to speak up in his own defense. Jesus is supposed to bring everlasting life, and he’s about to be sentenced to death.
Crucify him! Crucify him! We want nothing to do with him.
The people welcomed Jesus into Jerusalem just days earlier, shouting Hosanna, asking him to save them, save us, please, and now he won’t even save himself. It doesn’t take long for the crowds to turn on him. Jesus, in his final hours, feels abandoned even by God, and cries out, Father, Father, why have you forsaken me?
Jesus’ words are Martha and Mary’s cry at Lazarus’ tomb. Jesus’ words are the cry of Judas, wanting a different kind of Messiah. They are the question of the rich man, who is told he must give away all his belongings. Jesus’ words are the ridicule of the passersby and the chief priests and the bandits, saying, you can’t even save yourself! They are the voice of Pilate and his wife, saying, this man is innocent – he has done nothing wrong – why should we kill him?
Save us, the crowd cries. Save us, the world begs. Jesus, dying on a cross, is facing the people he loves, who don’t understand that saving them is exactly what he is doing. Not by victory in battle, not by politics or revenge, not by violence, not even by miracles, but by living and dying with them – and, though they don’t know it yet, by coming back from death to bring us to unending life.
For love is greater than death. And mercy is greater than cruelty. And compassion is greater than vengeance. And healing is greater than hatred.
Blessed are those who grieve, for they will be comforted. Blessed are the peacemakers. Blessed are the merciful. Blessed are the poor in spirit. Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are all of us, self-centered and cruel and afraid as we are, and blessed is this man, this compassionate king, who loved and loves us this much, no matter how self-centered and cruel and afraid we are.
Hosanna. Save us. Save us from ourselves. Lord Jesus in your great love, come.
Amen.
Sermon on Palm Sunday 2026. Image: Gethsemane, Augustus Vincent Tack.
