Hosanna Comes from the Heart

Matthew 21:1-11

1 As they approached Jerusalem and came to Bethphage on the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, 2 saying to them, “Go to the village ahead of you, and at once you will find a donkey tied there, with her colt by her. Untie them and bring them to me. 3 If anyone says anything to you, say that the Lord needs them, and he will send them right away.”

4 This took place to fulfill what was spoken through the prophet:

5 “Say to Daughter Zion,
‘See, your king comes to you,
gentle and riding on a donkey,
and on a colt, the foal of a donkey.’”

6 The disciples went and did as Jesus had instructed them. 7 They brought the donkey and the colt and placed their cloaks on them for Jesus to sit on. 8 A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, while others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. 9 The crowds that went ahead of him and those that followed shouted,

“Hosanna to the Son of David!”

“Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”

“Hosanna in the highest heaven!”

10 When Jesus entered Jerusalem, the whole city was stirred and asked, “Who is this?”

11 The crowds answered, “This is Jesus, the prophet from Nazareth in Galilee.”

Hosanna Comes from the Heart

“Hosanna to the Son of David!”

“Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”

“Hosanna in the highest heaven!”

That’s what the crowd shouted and sang when Jesus rode into Jerusalem on the back of a borrowed burro on that first Palm Sunday. That’s what we sang while we were waving palm branches today, “Hosanna to the Lord, for he fulfills God’s Word.” But do you know what “Hosanna” means? We sing it every year. By my count, we’ve sung or said or heard it at least a dozen times already today, but since it’s a Hebrew word, it’s easy to just sing the syllables without giving it much thought.

Hosanna comes from the Hebrew verb, “to save,” and it adds an element of request, e.g. “Lord, save us!” So, on the surface, you might think that this is the kind of thing someone would say in desperation, when everything is out of their control, “Hosanna, God help me!” But that’s not the scene we see.

On Palm Sunday the people weren’t hitting their knees with tears in their eyes begging for deliverance. They were dancing and jumping and singing for joy, because they identified Jesus as the living embodiment of their salvation. Here was the one in whom they put their hope. And, to their credit, their actions matched their words.

They weren’t just saying, “Hosanna to the Son of David;” they were shouting it. They were crowding around him and cutting branches off the trees and spreading their cloaks on the ground so that a dirty farm animal could walk on them. And they were willing to do all that because of who they thought Jesus was.

They called him “the Son of David.”[1] They remembered the promise that God had made to David a thousand years earlier: “Your house and your kingdom will endure forever before me; your throne will be established forever.”[2]

They could recall the promise God repeated to Isaiah even while the people were in exile, “For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders… Of the greatness of his government and peace there will be no end. He will reign on David’s throne and over his kingdom, establishing and upholding it with justice and righteousness from that time on and forever.”[3]

They had committed to memory the prophecy of Jeremiah, “’The days are coming,’ declares the Lord, ‘when I will raise up for David a righteous Branch, a King who will reign wisely and do what is just and right in the land. In his days Judah will be saved and Israel will live in safety.’”[4]

If they believed what they were calling Jesus – if he was going to be the King to usher in peace and safety and an endless reign on David’s throne – it only makes sense that these people would have been willing to sacrifice a few hoof prints on the backs of their jackets to give him a royal, red-carpet reception into Jerusalem. You can imagine the sincerity as they sang, “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”

It’s a beautiful scene of the praise and reverence that Jesus rightly deserves. But then Matthew spoils the whole thing by including verses 10 and 11:

When Jesus entered Jerusalem, the whole city was stirred and asked, “Who is this?”

The crowds answered, “This is Jesus, the prophet from Nazareth in Galilee.”[5]

They were so close and yet still so far away from who Jesus really was. They recognized him as the fulfillment of prophecy, representing the saving grace of the people, but all they could see was the Son of David – not the Son of God. They were rejoicing over what they hoped would be salvation from the Romans, when in reality Jesus came to save them from their sins, which explains why in just a few days’ time, some of the very same voices who sang, “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” changed their tune to a bloody, “Crucify him!”

How could people who cut branches off of trees and laid their cloaks down as a carpet for Christ change so drastically? How could people whose actions matched their words give up so quickly on the one whose praises they sang?

That’s the thing about “Hosanna.” It’s more than just a word. It requires more than just action. Hosanna has to come from the heart, and that heart has to believe in the Jesus who is, not the Jesus we want him to be.

I don’t have to tell you that “Lord, save us,” is a common prayer these days. Christians across the globe are saying “hosanna” whether they use that word or not. Now is the time to pour over Scripture and find the comfort and peace that God promises. Now is the time to seek out a Redeemer and King who is control and can give us hope. All that is good and provides a wonderful silver lining to a jet-black cloud in our lives.

But are we looking for the right kind of King? Or have we set up this picture of him in our minds as the Supreme, Sovereign Savior who spares us from pain and panic, but then find that we have little use for the humble way he actually impacts our earthly lives?

There’s something to the way that Jesus entered Jerusalem. “See, your king comes to you, gentle and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.”[6] He doesn’t come storming in on a noble steed and turn society on its head. He didn’t strut in all self-assured with soldiers at his back and route the Romans all the way back to Italy. He didn’t make sweeping reforms to a corrupt and greedy church. In fact, almost all the problems that plagued the people and inspired their songs of “Hosanna” stuck around long after his work was done.

But, whether they realized it or not, Jesus did come to Jerusalem to do exactly what these people were singing. He came to save us – not from earthly enemies or corrupt/inept leaders or deadly diseases and viruses. He came to save us from our sin.

Imagine his heartache to hear these songs of praise – “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” – from people who were doing and saying all the right things, but whose hearts weren’t in it. Imagine Jesus eagerly desiring forgiveness and salvation for people who would eventually be the cause of his crucifixion.

It shouldn’t be too hard to imagine, because that’s what we do. Even when we say and do all the right things, our hearts aren’t always in the right place. We sing the syllables without thinking about what they mean. We mindlessly go through the motions of worship and praise without rendering true reverence to our King. We plead for salvation from all the wrong things, and grow bored and dissatisfied with Jesus as he is and not as we want him to be.

We’re no better than those shallow singers on Palm Sunday, but Jesus rides on. He didn’t wait for them to get it right. He didn’t stop the festal procession and correct their false notions about him and instruct true praise of him. He rode on. He plowed headlong into a city he knew to be hostile against him. He rode on among a people who would betray and abandon and conspire against him. He rode on to the place where he would die for you and for your sins, for me and for mine. And there he set the record straight.

On the cross he showed us the kind of King he is – a selfless, servant King, who was willing to give his life for people who didn’t love him. On the cross he inspires our true praise, for the forgiveness of sins he won for us and the promise of eternal life he gives to us. He doesn’t require that we know him fully and praise him perfectly before he saves us. It’s his sacrifice for our salvation that teaches us who he is and arouses hearts that can cry out, “Hosanna! Lord, save us!”

As we begin this week we call “Holy,” let’s make it our task to recognize Jesus for who he is, not for what we want him to be. Sing for the Son of David because he is your Savior from sin. Bless his name as he rides into Jerusalem to redeem you and forgive you for your shallow thankfulness and praise. Shout “Hosanna!” to the highest heavens, even if all the rest of your problems in life remain, because you have Jesus, who is so dedicated and committed to you that he rode willingly to his death so that you could live in his peace.

He has saved you. He is your King, and to him we sing from the bottom of our hearts, “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest heaven!” Amen.


[1] Interestingly, Matthew begins his entire Gospel with, “A record of the genealogy of Jesus Christ the son of David…” (Matthew 1:1).

[2] 2 Samuel 7:16

[3] Isaiah 9:6,7

[4] Jeremiah 23:5,6

[5] Matthew 21:10,11

[6] Matthew 21:5