They Don’t Know What They’re Asking

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John 12:12-19; Zechariah 9:9-12; Philippians 2:5-11; Matthew 26:1-27:66

In the name of the Father and of the ☩ Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. 

They don’t know what they’re asking. “Hosanna,” means “Save us.” But they don’t know how Jesus will answer that prayer. The Palm Sunday crowd doesn’t have a clue. If they imagined they were cheering Jesus on to die, to ride to the cross, there wouldn’t be any of this fanfare. They think Jesus will save them from the Romans. That’s why they cry “Hosanna.” They want Jesus to fix their current problem. And so great are their expectations that when they hear He’s coming to Jerusalem, they cut palms and take the cloaks off their backs, laying them down so that even the donkey He rides doesn’t have to step on a dirty road. This is how they hail Him, “the King of Israel” (John 12:13). And this crowd must have been massive because look how it frightens the Pharisees. They say, “You see that you are gaining nothing. Look, the world has gone after him” (John 12:19). 

So, what happened? How is it that the people of this city go so quickly from adoring this Man to loathing Him?

Usually, that question is just dismissed by saying that they’re different crowds. Those shouting “Hosanna” on Palm Sunday are not the same as the mob that cries “Crucify” on Good Friday. Which makes sense. Matthew tells us that children were a part of the Palm Sunday crowd. I doubt those boisterous kids joined the murderous throng. That seems unlikely. And the fact that they have to arrest Jesus by stealth seems to indicate that these two crowds are not the same. That’s why they rushed Him through the trial.

But that doesn’t mean the Palm Sunday crowd is innocent. If those waving palm branches are not the same ones calling for Jesus’ blood on Good Friday, fine, but then where are they? Where are the folks who filled the air with, “Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord, even the king of Israel” (John 12:13)? That’s what they said. But when that exuberant crowd finds out that their King has been arrested, sentenced to death, they don’t riot to save Him. There’s no indication that anyone even protested. So what happened? 

Well, it’s likely that the people heard Jesus preach after Palm Sunday. Jesus preached a lot this week, and His words were not exactly easy to digest. He told parables of judgment and woe. He pointed out sin and challenged the leadership of the Jews. Instead of railing against the Romans, He called the Israelites to repent. So maybe they found His words to be offensive, and abandoned Him. That’s possible. Or maybe they simply saw their Christ arrested and beaten and thought, “Well, I guess He wasn’t the Savior we thought He was.” 

Either way, they had expectations of Jesus. They thought He would remove their tribulations, fix their problems, and when those expectations were not met, the Palm Sunday crowd may not have yelled “Crucify,” but they still abandoned Jesus to the cross. They were only willing to stand with Him so long as everything was going well. Which makes it all a little surprising that every year you and I number ourselves among them. We carry the palms, and process into Church, and sing “Hosanna.” We step into the shoes of those who don’t know what they’re asking. But we do. 

We know that the “Lamb goes uncomplaining forth, the guilt of all men bearing; and laden with the sins of earth, none else the burden sharing.” Jesus rides to secure salvation. And when we gather as the Church, we know that this is where that salvation comes to us. This is where the forgiveness Jesus earns on Good Friday is given. His cleansing Blood is shed at the cross, but it cleanses you here, through the preaching of the Word and receiving the Sacrament. We know all that. 

And yet, what do we do? When life isn’t going well, when the depression gets its hooks in you, or the anxiety overwhelms, or loved ones get sick, you have to deal with another funeral, when your prayers aren’t answered as you expect, you just don’t see it, that’s when you’re tempted to set all of this aside, thinking, “What good is any of this? Forgiveness of sins? Is that all the Church can offer? Just the promise of heaven someday? I’m suffering here, Jesus. I need help now.” 

Repent. Do not think Jesus doesn’t know what you suffer or how best to help you. The people shouting “Hosanna” had all sorts of suffering, Roman oppression, loved ones who needed healing, they had mouths to feed. Jesus knows all that. And yet when He rides through the city, Jesus is not ignoring their suffering. He’s bearing it. 

Your Lord never promised to remove the Romans. And He hasn’t promised that you won’t suffer in this life. In fact, He’s promised that you will, “In the world you will have tribulation” (John 16:33), He says. Somehow, we’re still shocked when tribulation comes. Jesus’ promise is not that the world won’t bring you suffering, but that He has overcome the world. That’s what He goes to do at the cross. That’s what He knows you need. And that is why you don’t just step into the shoes of the Palm Sunday crowd. You also have this long Passion reading. We don’t have you speak parts of it to make it easier to listen to or help you stay awake. No. Consider which parts you spoke. 

You took up the role of the Chief Priests and elders plotting against the Son of God. You voiced the false concern of Judas about the expensive ointment, and then you sold out your Lord for thirty pieces of silver. You joined those who mocked His authority and dared God to judge them. You were given the words of Caiaphas, along with the lying witnesses at Jesus’ trial. Even the ones whose names aren’t given—they’re just labeled as those who spat in His face and struck Him—their words are recorded in Holy Scripture, and you spoke them. Pilate, who knows Jesus is innocent but condemns Him anyway, you spoke his words, along with those of the soldiers who weren’t content with merely beating and scourging Him, they also had to mock Jesus, kneeling in a cruel parody of worship. You spoke the part of Jesus’ disciples as well, but that’s not a good thing. Peter pridefully confesses never to fall away, and then denies Him three times. 

Did you feel a sense of shame at all speaking those words, knowing that your sins are no better? You’ve had good intentions to be faithful, to not fall into the same sins, to not be a fair-weather Christian, not be shaken when suffering comes to your door, only to find that your Hosannas are a little more muffled with each new struggle.

It doesn’t matter if the Palm Sunday crowd is the same as the crowd on Good Friday, because you have been both of them. But that! That is why it’s wonderful beyond all telling that you not only join your Hosannas at the beginning of the service, but that you are also given the peak moment of this responsive reading when all of you stood up, and your lips gave voice to the most important words, “His blood be on us and on our children!” (Matt. 27:25).

They didn’t know what they were asking. But you do. This is the reason for it all, dear saints, the reason for Holy Week. Jesus would ride today to have His veins opened, and His blood spilled so that it might be on you and on your children. This is what it means to be a Christian, to have that Blood that removes sin and gives life washed over you in your Baptism and fed to you in the Supper. That’s the Blood that undoes the curse. The Blood that destroys death, and doesn’t just forgive sin, though that would be great enough in itself. It’s also the Blood that gives you the righteousness of Christ, your Lord, that you might live in this fallen world and not crumble under the tribulations you’re given. That your grief and your sorrow and every anxiety would not destroy you. The world will throw everything it has against you, but your footing is secure in the hope of the Resurrection because of this Blood.

The Palm Sunday crowd and the Good Friday crowd do not know what they ask. But it’s the same cry: “Hosanna,” and “Crucify.” They ask for the same thing. As do you. The very next song out of your mouth after the Words of Institution, after bread and wine are Body and Blood, is the “Hosanna. Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord.” We’re begging for this salvation, this peace, forgiveness and rest in a weary world, crying, “His blood be on us and on our children!” And Jesus says, “Here it is. Shed for you.” 

In ☩ Jesus’ name. Amen. 

The peace of God which passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus. Amen.