Sunday, 28 March, is Palm Sunday. There are two parts to the liturgy: remembering Jesus riding into Jerusalem and being hailed by the people (waving palm fronds), and remembering Jesus arrest, trial, and crucifixion (called Jesus’ Passion). They may be found on the Oremus website.

Readings for the Liturgy of the Palms:

Mark 11:1-11
Psalm 118:1-2, 19-29

Readings for the Liturgy of the Passion:

Isaiah 50:4-9a
Psalm 31:9-16
Philippians 2:5-11
Mark 14:1 – 15:47 [or Mark 15:1-39 (40-47)]

The sermon relates to the readings of the Liturgy of the Palms. I encourage you to watch the video service we are creating for Good Friday, when we hear the story of Jesus’ Passion (his arrest, trial, and crucifixion). It will be posted on Friday.

Link to service sheet for today.

Whenever Palm Sunday comes around each year, I remember a certain event from my childhood. I was about seven years old, and I went to Sunday School at a Methodist church. This particular church was in a community with a lot of children, and so the church had a children’s choir. I was even in the choir, which is a wondrous thing, because I can’t sing very well at all.

One year for Palm Sunday, the children’s choir sang in the main church service. And that means we got to process — in other words, walk into the church in a big line during the opening hymn. What I remember was how big and how grand this procession was. We had flags and banners, and we had the children’s choir and the adult choir, and we had the clergy and probably a few lay leaders in the procession too. It was very impressive to a seven-year-old.

The reason for the grand procession was because it was Palm Sunday, and we were celebrating Jesus riding into Jerusalem on a donkey and all the people laying cloaks and palm branches on the road in front of him and hailing him as king. We were remembering the celebration and the joy of all those people in Jerusalem, and we were celebrating with them and also hailing Jesus as king.

Skip forward a number of years, jump over many years when I did not go to church, and I discovered there was more to Palm Sunday than what I remembered from my childhood. Palm Sunday came in two pieces: remembering Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem, and then reading and remembering his arrest, trial, and crucifixion — what is called Jesus’ Passion. One event was joyous, and the other very sad. It always seemed odd to me that the two would be celebrated on the same day, and then we would have Holy Week, where we would back up and remember the same events: the Last Supper on Maundy Thursday and the Passion again on Good Friday. Someone explained to me that you have to have Good Friday — you have to have the Passion — before you can have Easter. You can’t have resurrection without crucifixion first. And if you just hear about Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday and then ignore everything until the Resurrection on Easter — if you skip all those events in between — then you miss a crucial part of the story.

If you wish to read the Passion and the other readings that go with it, those are listed on the church website. But today, for the year that is in it, we will remember the celebration. Sometimes it is just important to celebrate. Today we hail Jesus as king. We say, with the people of Jerusalem, “Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!”

Celebrations are important. The memory of joyous celebrations can keep us going through tougher times. We celebrate birthdays to give us a boost and to give thanks for another year. We celebrate holidays and holy days and even little events. Celebrations bring us joy.

The people in Jerusalem were celebrating Jesus riding into the city for the Jewish holiday of Passover. They knew of him because he had been teaching and healing and proclaiming the kingdom of God. He had been creating quite a stir, and here he was in their midst, and so they celebrate, crying out, “Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!” And to give full voice to their celebration, we have words from Psalm 118:

“O give thanks to the Lord for he is good:
his mercy endures for ever. …
This is the day that the Lord has made:
we will rejoice and be glad in it. …
Your are my God and I will thank you:
you are my God, and I will exalt you.”

And there is one line in the psalm that reflects what the word “Hosanna” means. It is this:

“Come, O Lord, and save us we pray.”

The word “Hosanna” means “Save us, please.” Yes, it is a joyful word, but it is also a prayer, a plea. So as those people celebrated Jesus coming into their midst, they were calling out, “Save us, please.” Help us, save us. We rejoice that you are here with us. Save us, please.

We have an advantage over those people of Jerusalem at the time. We know the end of the story, that even though Jesus would be crucified less than a week later, he would rise from the dead. Our celebrations can be longer-lasting than theirs; they can be more certain. We can celebrate Jesus as Risen Lord, as Saviour, as Son of God. We can celebrate the new life he offers to us. The people of Jerusalem did not yet know all this was possible — they just had an inkling that such a thing was true and possible.

And yet, we too say with those people, “Hosanna!” Save us, please, dear Lord. Bless us and save us.

Amen.