Hosanna Sunday

Hosanna Sunday

I know why they call it “Palm Sunday.” But I think they could have done better. It’s better than Easter, or “Ishtar,” or whatever. Both could be improved. The pastor under whom I served when a youth pastor a hundred years ago always used Resurrection Sunday for Easter, religiously. He would also wear orange on St. Patrick’s Day. He was an interesting dude.

For Palm Sunday I would suggest Hosanna Sunday. “Hosanna” is a Hebrew terms that means, “Lord, save us,” and was most probably a heart-felt cry on the part of many of the people as Jesus rode the colt into Jerusalem. As far as palms go, they are mentioned in the Bible, though I don’t see a clear connection.

In Leviticus 23:40, in the instructions concerning the Fall festival called the Feast of Booths (or, Tabernacles), we find this verse: 40 ‘Now on the first day you shall take for yourselves the foliage of beautiful trees, palm branches and boughs of leafy trees and willows of the brook, and you shall rejoice before the LORD your God for seven days.” In another text, it seems that perhaps the palm branches were also used in constructing booths for the outdoor harvest festival. But Jesus’ approach to Jerusalem was just before Passover, in the Spring, not the Fall. Also, only John mentions palm branches. The other Gospels mention leafy branches (leafy branch Sunday?).

Palm carvings are mentioned with regard to Solomon’s Temple in 1 Kings 6, and also Ezekiel’s future temple prophecy in the closing chapters of his book. But again, I’m not seeing a clear connection. Perhaps Revelation 7:9-10 opens a future look: Rev. 7:9 After these things I looked, and behold, a great multitude which no one could count, from every nation and all tribes and peoples and tongues, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed in white robes, and palm branches were in their hands; 10 and they cry out with a loud voice, saying,“Salvation to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb.” But, as you know, Revelation hadn’t been written yet on this first Hosanna Sunday.

It is a strange Sunday, and it seems we don’t know exactly what to do with it. The pastor of the church we attended last Sunday was invited away this week, but chose to be home for Palm Sunday. The inviter said, “Why? We treat it like every other Sunday.” Obviously, I’m away as well, sitting under a palm tree as I write this, though I think this coming Sunday’s service in Milford, Hosanna Sunday, is going to be extra special.

This will just be the second Sunday before Resurrection Sunday that we have missed. The first time was 34 years ago when we had travelled to N. Carolina with our young kids and had planned to be home for Hosanna Sunday. Taylor was showing strange symptoms, always thirsty, and finally we called home to June Jones, an RN in our congregation. She said to go to emergency right away, and we did. It was a slow-moving little hospital in Blowing Rock, NC that also doubled as a nursing home. The old doctor plodded along until he took a blood test and said Taylor’s blood sugar was at 1300. If Taylor had been older than 8, he would probably have been in a coma. That was our introduction to Type I diabetes, and we weren’t going anywhere until they were able to get his blood sugars under control and until they could trust his parents to get him home safely (learning how to test and give shots). 

The doctor invited us to his church, Methodist, I believe, for their Palm Sunday service. You know, celebratory and all. We sat there with tears running down our faces as everybody said “Hosanna,” “Lord, save us.” Well, He did. Jeff and June travelled to N. Carolina to shepherd us home. Andy Rogers, our youth pastor, preached in Milford that Sunday, and I’m sure he did very well.

So I guess Hosanna Sunday carries differing overtones for different people, but right now, I’ve got to go dry my eyes and blow my nose. God is good.