“Help me! Help me!”
His words echoed down the hallway from the upstairs bathroom. My son was laid out on the floor, sobbing, and heaving and crying out. He was sick in the middle of the night. He was too young to understand what was happening so he cried out, “Help me!” He wanted us to save him from the pain of the moment.
“Hosanna! Hosanna!”
As a man with “no beauty or majesty” (Isaiah 53:2) rode into Jerusalem on the back of a colt, the people called out “Hosanna!” which means “Please! Save us!” This “Palm Sunday” scene is often depicted as a celebration, like an ancient Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. The Hosannas of our imagination sound like shouts of joy and praise. But what if the scene was actually much more like my son calling out from the bathroom floor?
The people were living under the heavy hand of Rome. The Holy City, the promised land of God was occupied territory. The peace that passes all understanding was undermined by the “Pax Romana”… the peace of Rome, which in short was, “Do what we say or we will kill you.” It’s funny how many people proclaim a “gospel” that isn’t much different. Sigh. Anyway, God’s people were desperate. They were living in the sickness of empire. “Hosanna! Please! Save us!” They cried our in helpless desperation from the dusty streets of the eastern gate as Jesus entered the city just days away from his trial and crucifixion and death. “Please save us!”
At the beginning of this Holy Week my heart remains heavy and I cry out “Hosanna!” I’m sitting in a coffee shop as I write. At the tables behind me a church group is talking about “that trans thing” and the Nashville school shooting as equivalent examples of the depravity of “man.” They all nodded their heads in agreement and said amen as the leader declared this.
“Hosanna! Please save us!”
Has it really come to this? Recognizing the humanity and rights of marginalized people, loving people for who they are as they are is a “problem?” Just like the murder of 9-year-old kids? Really? One clearly seems opposite of God’s will and way to me and its not “that trans thing.”
I need this Holy Week. I need this time to reflect and think and grieve and hope.
“Hosanna! Please save us!”