I preached this reflection at a contemplative service two years ago. It still feels relevant. Read the paper or watch the news to find where the world's cries of "save us!" are loudest today.
Our Palm Sunday liturgy takes us from the mountaintop to the valley of death. From the crowd laying branches along Jesus path and crying “Hosanna!” which means, “save us,” to cruelly taunting Jesus on the cross, “save yourself.”
We think of the crowd’s cries of Hosanna as cries of victory. Jesus had come to Jerusalem to at last claim his kingship and bring justice and peace to the world. He was surrounded on this dusty mountainside by a ragtag group. Not a sedate crowd of well-respected religious and political leaders come to usher him in to Jerusalem, but rather a crowd that had been and still was, desperate for the salvation Jesus brought. Jesus had reminded them of their inherent dignity as children of God. He had preached good news to the poor, release to the captives. He gave the blind back their sight, restored the sanity of those possessed, made the lame walk, even raised the dead. In very real ways, he saved them.
But they were still living under the brutal thumb of the Roman Empire. They were still being exploited by some religious leaders who were busy lining their own pockets. The Messiah was coming to bring God’s rule to earth, not just to heal a few people, right?
So while they were celebrating, they were also looking forward to this journey across the valley, down the Mount of Olives and back up the other side to the City of David, to Jerusalem. “Hosanna” was a cry both of thanksgiving and expectation.
“Save us!”
A few days later, their expectations shattered. Jesus’ own cry from the cross “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” no doubt echoed in the hearts of those who had loved him and trusted him – who had put their hope in him.
It often seems like we haven’t come terribly far since that first Palm Sunday. Cries of “why have you forsaken me?” and “save us!” echo in our hearts and minds daily. From Syria. “Save us!” From South Sudan. “Why have you forsaken me?” From Saint Petersburg and Stockholm. “Save us!” And it goes on and on and on. God’s dream for us seems far away indeed.
It is easy to feel forsaken, and yet we know we are not. We know the rest of the story. But we can’t get to Easter joy without sitting in the betrayal of Maundy Thursday, the crucifixion of Good Friday, and the emptiness of Holy Saturday. Because that is where large chunks of human history take place. Just as Jesus suffered and died, all creation groans as it is transformed. So let us raise our Hosanna – save us! – knowing that though we may feel forsaken, we are not.
