A Joyful Cry for Help
A sermon preached with the people of Lordstown Lutheran Church in Lordstown, Ohio.
When the Son of God enters the gates of Jerusalem, the crowds lay branches and cloaks on the road before him, and they shout:“Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest heaven!”
“Hosanna,” they cry.
Not “hooray!” Not “thank you!” Not “praise God!”
“Hosanna.”
They know this word from Hebrew scripture, and we do too. From Psalm 118: “Hosanna, Lord, hosanna!” or, translated: “Save us, we beseech you.”
Save us. Help us. Hosanna.
Maybe that doesn’t sound as celebratory or joyful a refrain as we want the crowd’s response to this procession to be – it might not seem to fit the tone of the beautiful strains of our beloved “All Glory Laud and Honor.”
But I think there is something truly joyful going on here. It lies in the freedom that comes when we acknowledge that we all need help and, when we embrace the hope in Christ that help will come.
It’s so easy to picture those crowds that day.
They’re people tied up in a geopolitical struggle; living in an occupied land, ruled by an exploitative government.
Some of them are living with health struggles, having heard of this great healer,, teaching and preaching throughout the country.
Some of them are living in poverty, having heard of this man who provides bread and fish to more people than should be possible.
Some of them are marginalized or ostracized, having heard of this prophet who speaks to and ministers to people he should not.
Some of them struggle with their own failings, their own sources of guilt and struggle, and yes, perhaps sin.
All of them, like all of us, need help. All of them, like all of us, need salvation.
And when they allow the cry of hosanna to ring from their mouths, they reveal a belief that help is available. In other words, hosanna is a cry of hope. Hosanna is a cry of joy.
As Jesus passes by this Palm Sunday, I lay my branches before him, and cry:
Hosanna! from rampant, endless gun violence
Hosanna! from deadly storms and other effects of climate change
Hosanna! from dictators, invasion, occupation, and any kind of war
Hosanna! from hunger, from poverty, and lack of access to healthcare
Hosanna! from white supremacy, and violent extremism
What are your hosanna cries this morning?
I want to hear them, maybe after the service. Because it’s worth noting that the crowd that morning in Jerusalem heard one another’s “hosanna” cries. Not just their own. How powerful. To not only feel the freedom of asking for help, but to hear that we’re not alone in that need. We do this every time we worship together. Every time we pray the Lord’s Prayer. Every time we recite together words of confession. Every time we recite the prayers of intercession. We remember that we all need help. We remember that we were not made by God to be self-sufficient. And we remember that we are saved.
And so at our best, we allow the Spirit to work through us, as we listen for other sometimes very soft hosanna cries in our community. I was so moved to read in your newsletter about your sponsorship of the high school and elementary school pantries. Hearing and helping vulnerable children and young people is “holy hosanna” work indeed.
As Jesus rides along the path this morning he knows, and we know, where he is headed. We heard it in the second Gospel this morning – the “passion” part of “Passion and Palm Sunday.” We know we are headed toward the foot of the cross.
And even then, especially then, we know that the cross is not the end of the story. We know that Easter will come. And with it, help. And with it, salvation. And, always, the peculiar joy of crying out “hosanna.”