by Rev. Sean Amato

“HOSANNA!”
SCRIPTURE: Matthew 21:1-11

In last week’s scripture, Jesus and his people approach a place and time that their Savior, our Savior, knew to be his end. They approach Jerusalem – the City of David, the City of God. And it has been a long journey. In my sanctified imagination, I imagine Jesus reflected on his haggard group of friends and family -those to whom he’d been preaching, at least for the last few weeks, something like his own death. Under the shadow of a Roman fortress just outside the Holy City, His people walk into the place – walk through a crowd, even – that would kill the Son of Man. A little grim, I’d say.

And having seen this grimness, felt this grimness – for Jesus had human emotions; Jesus wept, and would weep – I like to imagine it wasn’t just prophecy that led our Christ to summon a donkey and a colt – no, it was an understanding that even His people needed joy.

Joy – yes, joy! That forgotten emotion, one that the world so endeavors to squeeze out of us – to take from us through endless streams of bad news and countless hours of doomscrolling. Joy, an emotion that some of us barely feel outside of paying off another bill or clocking out of work. Joy, which Jesus’s followers might not have known much of, following him through His ministry. Jesus knew that joy was part of the human experience, having shared in it Himself; He knew how important it was to humanity, too. And he chose one of Jerusalem’s city gates, through which Rome’s armies had passed in “triumph” time and time again, to share his joy.

For those outside the historical ‘know,’ a Roman” triumph” was a great wartime procession meant to herald a major political or military victory. A triumph was considered one of the Roman Empire1s greatest honors: glory, supremacy, success, and sometimes even living godhood were afforded to the triumphator leading the march. And the folks of Jesus1 Jerusalem, subject to Roman rule, would have been familiar with the pomp and circumstances of a triumph: they’d been conquered not so long ago, and some in the crowd might’ve been paraded through their own streets as wartime spoils.

Before that same Roman Empire, Jesus would assemble His followers in a mock triumph – a funny, provocative celebration that that contrasted Roman might with Christian humbleness; contrasted Roman order and efficiency, Roman control and conquest, with a beautiful and joyous gathering. They tossed down their palms and their cloaks instead of laurels and denarii; they shouted “Hosanna11 – “deliver us11 – in the same kind of way that a Roman citizen might hail their passing triumphator. Before the very people who would kill Him, before the same people who would scatter and abuse His church for generations: Jesus and his people laughed at the false power of those who had conquered God1s City, for they know the Romans hadn1t conquered what mattered.

They joked and cheered, knowing of the shadows to come; they celebrated with their Savior, a Savior who loved and cared for them, who cultivated their joy and humanness amidst a world that could not make them joyous, that never intended to make them joyous. Christ’s people resisted their harsh and unforgiving world that day, and they did it by not hiding their joy.
Friends, we find ourselves in a time of unprecedent strangeness. This is a season of tumult and division – much like the one in which Jesus and His followers did their work. And just like those days, we Christians trundle forward, stumble forward, with no idea as to how rough things might get. In this, we follow a familiar path for our people. And in this scripture, Christ makes it clear: Inviting in joy isn’t just a ‘nice’ thing to do: after a long and hard road, with another long road ahead, joy is a means of survival. Here, Jesus shows us how to be joyful before even our enemies -how to laugh and parade before their gleaming soldiers and harshest judges.

Be joyous, my friends, even if it seems strange. Be joyous, knowing that being joyous before danger and death is a Christian endeavor; be joyous, knowing that it is okay to be joyous despite the state of the world – be joyous, knowing that the only reminders our friends might have of their joy is our joy. Rejoice, friends – for though our Christ walks His heavy path, and though we walk alongside him carrying some of that heavy weight, we know the truth: that for every death, there is a resurrection.

This Sunday, I invite you to join us in celebration of this truth – in celebration of the defeat of Death and Sin by our Risen Savior. Come and see, my friends, what joy should feel like; come and rejoice with us, won’t you? Amen.

Pastor Sean