Mark 11:1-10
1 As they approached Jerusalem and came to Bethphage and Bethany at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, 2 saying to them, “Go to the village ahead of you, and just as you enter it, you will find a colt tied there, which no one has ever ridden. Untie it and bring it here. 3 If anyone asks you, ‘Why are you doing this?’ say, ‘The Lord needs it and will send it back here shortly.’”
4 They went and found a colt outside in the street, tied at a doorway. As they untied it, 5 some people standing there asked, “What are you doing, untying that colt?” 6 They answered as Jesus had told them to, and the people let them go. 7 When they brought the colt to Jesus and threw their cloaks over it, he sat on it. 8 Many people spread their cloaks on the road, while others spread branches they had cut in the fields. 9 Those who went ahead and those who followed shouted,
“Hosanna!”
“Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”
10 “Blessed is the coming kingdom of our father David!”
“Hosanna in the highest heaven!”
This Will (Not) End Well
Do you think things would have been different had they known how that week was going to end? Do you think the disciples would have been so quick and unquestioning to go get that donkey for Jesus if they knew that it would carry him to the place where he would die? Do you think the people would have postponed their parade or cancelled it altogether if they knew that Jesus was going to be crucified and in the ground for three days in just a week’s time?
For the last several months Jesus had been trying to prepare them for this moment by predicting his eventual suffering and death, but every time he did, they plugged their ears and started humming loudly; they didn’t want to hear it. We find out in John’s gospel that the Jewish plot to take Jesus’ life was well-known and widespread. His followers and friends warned him about it and encouraged him to stay away from Jerusalem.
But it seems as though the light of a new day drove all their fears away, almost as if they had forgotten Jesus’ predictions and the Jewish plot against him. As Jesus approached Bethphage and Bethany at the Mount of Olives – just across the Kidron Valley from Jerusalem – a crowd had formed, bustling with activity, and buzzing with excitement.
It was only 2 miles from there to the city gates – an easy walk but quite long for a parade route. And yet no one seemed to mind. With palms in hand and their shirts in the dirt this spontaneous procession marched along with Jesus singing his praises and reciting old psalms that brought to mind promises of victory and long-lost glory. At this point in the morning, thoughts of suffering and fear for Jesus’ life were far from their minds.
Jesus, of course, wasn’t afraid either, but it wasn’t because he had forgotten his promises or as if he didn’t know how that week would end. He knew what was waiting for him in Jerusalem. For years he had carefully sidestepped several assassination attempts, but now he was walking – or rather riding – right into one, because the time had come. It was no longer time to hide or to preach in distant lands. It was time to stir up the hornets’ nest. It was time to poke the bear and provoke his enemies, because it was time for Jesus to die.
That’s what made what the crowd was singing so ironic. “Hosanna!” they said. In Hebrew, “hosanna,” means, “Save us!” It was a common refrain in the Psalms, so much so that it had almost taken on a different meaning entirely. Instead of conveying a sense of desperation, it had become a cause for joy because of the confidence in God to save us. The irony here was that it was this refrain that was twisted into the ridicule Jesus would hear from the cross: “He saved others,” they said, “but he can’t save himself!”[1]
Would things have been different had they known how that week was going to end? Had they known that Jesus would trade a colt for a cross, would they have changed their tune from a major to a minor key? Had they known that their King was riding on to die, would they have changed their praise parade into a funeral march or swapped their cloaks on the road for veils over their faces?
Maybe they would have, but they shouldn’t have. What the crowd did on Palm Sunday was exactly what should have happened; it was entirely good and right, because while that week was not going to end well for Jesus, it was going to end well for you.
We do know how that week ended; that’s why we still take up palms today and sing his praise. None of the people there may have woken up thinking, “I’m going to take off my shirt, tear some branches off a tree and sing psalms for 2 miles as I follow Jesus into Jerusalem,” But God had been planning that parade for quite some time. In fact, it was 500 years earlier that Zechariah prophesied: “Rejoice greatly, Daughter Zion! Shout, Daughter Jerusalem! See, your king comes to you, righteous and victorious, lowly and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.”[2] This seemingly spontaneous moment in Jesus’ life was promised by God hundreds of years in advance.
But it wasn’t the only thing God had prepared for that day. “Hosanna!” “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”[3] That’s what the people were singing. Those words come from Psalm 118 – which we sang just a few minutes ago – written a thousand years before Jesus jumped on that donkey.
And those syllables aren’t just a collection of silly noises. “Hosanna” means something. It means, “Save us!” which is exactly what Jesus came to do by not saving himself from the fate that was awaiting him. Jesus rode into Jerusalem knowing how that week would end. Jesus received the praise of those people on Sunday knowing that by Friday, their shouts of “Hosanna!” would turn to cries of “Crucify him!” Jesus willingly went to Jerusalem, knowing that he would die there, because he loves you and didn’t want you to suffer the consequences of your sin.
You know, we can be like those crowds sometimes, blissfully unaware of how hard God works to love us. We can be like them and joyfully raise our palms in praise on Sunday, but by Friday we can be heard using the same mouth that praised him to say unspeakable things. We can be like those disciples who were eager to do the tasks that sounded fun – like grabbing a donkey for a parade or preparing to celebrate a festival – but when it comes to the hard stuff, we quibble with God’s will.
“That doesn’t sound easy, God. I don’t know if I can do it. I don’t know if I can forgive the person who sinned against me. I know you want me to, but I don’t really want to.”
“But, God, if I talk to my friends or family about you, they might get weird about it. They might not invite me over again. What if they ask me a question that I don’t have the answer to? That sounds too hard, Lord.”
“God, I know you want me to prioritize you in my life, but I had different plans for my Spring Break than going to church 4 times. Lord, I know you want me to support the work of my church, but think of all the other, funner things I could do with that money.”
It’s one thing to sing Jesus’ praise today, here, surrounded by other Christians. It’s another thing entirely to speak his name in public, out there. It’s one thing to confess our faith and say the prayers that are written out for us here. It’s another thing to put that faith into action out in the world and remember to say our prayers or to pray from the heart. Like the crowd on Palm Sunday and like Jesus’ own disciples, we can be fickle and weak. We can stand up one day but fall down the next.
But the beauty of Palm Sunday is that Jesus knew all that about us and he rode into Jerusalem anyway. Jesus was well aware of our failures and fickleness, and he rode into Jerusalem anyway. Jesus knew what was waiting for him there, and he rode into Jerusalem anyway, because he loves you, i.e. because he is your “Hosanna,” because he came to save you from yourself. Jesus rode into Jerusalem as the sacrifice for your sin, to forgive you all your sin, and to give you everlasting life in his name.
There is nothing more praiseworthy than that. I can’t think of a better reason to tear branches off of trees and wave them in the air. I can’t think of a better reason to toss our shirts in the dirt. Jesus is our Hosanna and he deserves every bit of praise that our mouths and our hands can offer.
Forget what would happen later in the week. Look at what these people did on Palm Sunday. It’s beautiful. They were unashamed to sing Jesus’ name, even after Jesus’ enemies came and tried to silence them. They didn’t hesitate to do what Jesus asked them to do. They even offered the shirts off their backs for his donkey walk on for 2 miles. This was more than just lip service. They showed their joy and their faith by what they did.
How can we put our shirts in the dirt for Jesus? That’s the question, isn’t it? The answer isn’t easy, in part because it’ll be different for each of us. There’s no one-size-fits-all palm that we can wave around in our lives. But there’s beauty in that too, isn’t there? I don’t have to be like you. You don’t have to be like me. I don’t have to have the resources or connections that you have. You don’t have to have the time or talents that I have. We are each and all perfectly suited to praise God’s name uniquely in whatever circumstance of life God has placed us.
Do you know someone who doesn’t know Jesus? There’s may be no better time to introduce them to him than this week. So, invite them to one of the five services we’re hosting in the next 7 days. Share a livestream link with them. Host a watch party at your home or online.
Do you have extra time on your hands? Offer to help folding bulletins and tying ribbons. Has God blessed you with a little extra cash? Consider giving a little extra so that we can get the word out wider. Do you have a compassionate heart and a decent cell phone plan? Then call someone who needs your encouragement. Be a loving a parent, a respectful child, a caring friend.
We are each and all perfectly suited to praise God’s name uniquely in whatever circumstance of life God has placed us, because we know how this week will end. We will hold his body in our hands and taste his blood on Maundy Thursday. We will literally put nails in a cross on Good Friday as a testament of our guilt and sin. But still we praise his name, because Jesus rode to his death knowingly, willingly, lovingly for you. He knew how that week would end – not well for him, but eternally good for you.
Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest! Amen.
[1] Mark 15:31
[2] Zechariah 9:9
[3] Mark 11:9