BEWARE THE CRIES OF HOSANNA

 A SERMON FOR PALM SUNDAY

Today, we witness the triumphant entrance of Christ the King into his capital city of Jerusalem.  With the crowds we wave our palms proudly and cheer him on with our cries of “Hosanna to the Son of David: Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord.”  What an inspiring spectacle, as we see our blessed Lord given the honor he is owed by his people.

And yet, our vestments today are not colored gold in honor of this triumphant and glorious event.  We continue in our mournful garb of purple.  There are no flowers on the altar to welcome our King.  There is a feeling in the air, and it is not one of pure, unadulterated joy on this day.  We know that the cries of the crowd will soon change from Hosanna to something far less reverent, something too terrible almost to contemplate.  With this feeling of imminent dread, the Church today gives us not one Gospel but two.  She reminds us in the long and shocking account of our Lord’s Passion, that in the midst of our joy and veneration of our beloved Savior, this is not the end of the road.  We need to focus past the grand entrance of this King into the Holy City and remember how he will leave those city gates next Friday.  We must see the adulation of the crowds for what it’s worth.  Thus do the sufferings of our beloved King begin.

The thronging crowds on that first Palm Sunday were, for the most part, a boisterous and enthusiastic lot, eager to welcome their King into his city.  But our Lord did not throw his hands in the air in triumph; he did not wave and bow to the crowds.  For he knew what was in the heart of each person in that crowd.  He knew that many of them were genuine, sincere in their happiness to see him coming, and he was sad for them, for the devastation they would feel later this week.  Then there were those who were there out of mere curiosity, eager to see what would happen next.  They will just as eagerly throng the road to Calvary next Friday, watching a whole new spectacle, with gaping mouth and chattering lips.  And others yet, sprinkled among the crowd, watching with malice, their faces contorted with hatred, these evil children of darkness were resolute that this man and his works must be stopped—destroyed as though they had never been. 

For “He was in the world, and the world was made by him, and the world knew him not.  He came unto his own, and his own received him not.” When these wicked men had earlier wanted to stone him to death, our Lord asked them, “Many good works have I shewed you from my Father; for which of those works do ye stone me?  The Jews answered him, saying, For a good work we stone thee not; but for blasphemy; and because that thou, being a man, makest thyself God.”  “And the world,” you see, “knew him not.”

This morning, we are all here, a modest crowd whispering our Hosannas politely and holding our palms limply in our hands as we listen to the events of the day and the rest of the week unfold before our eyes.  Some of us will be moved, perhaps even to tears, at the awful things that come to pass.  Others will be merely bored by it all, day-dreaming our way to better times, to the end of this whole miserable business when we can get back to the “reality” of the Easter Bunny, and spending our time by more worthy and fruitful pursuits, like searching for the eggs he somehow managed to lay all over the garden—or whatever, whatever other distraction takes your fancy and keeps you in a “happy” mood.  Beware this trap.  Life’s sorrows must be grasped with the same sense of purpose, perhaps more even, than the joys that take our minds off these crosses.  As for the third category, those who would deliberately defy the mission of our Lord to save their souls, I doubt there are any here who fall into that third category.  But there’s a strong likelihood that you know someone who does?  Perhaps someone close to you.  Those who proudly whisper their wicked lifestyle to the world, or their plans to defy the laws of God?  Those who have chosen to take this path of darkness may be lost, perhaps forever, hopefully for a short time only.  Our reaction to them must not be one of anger, of rejection, or of fear.  Let our cries ring out all the louder, “Hosanna to the Son of David.”  “Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord!”  Because he is blessed, and he cometh in the name of the Lord.  He cometh to visit and redeem his people.  And whether they like it or not, whether they even know it or not, all people that on earth do dwell are surely redeemed by our blessed Savior and by what he went through on that first Holy Week.  Think of those poor lost souls on their path to destruction, who might cry Hosanna, but inwardly make their decisions to crucify, and let your Hosannas of praise include prayers of mercy for them—“Lead all souls to heaven, especially those most in need of thy mercy!”