Dust rolled up from the shuffle of thousands of sandals. Fresh cut palm fronds mingled a clean scent with the sweat of bodies pressing closer to the road. Tattered cloaks flew overhead like banners unrolling across the spring sun. Kings went to war in this season, returning on a donkey to announce victory.
“Hosanna! Blessed is the King of Israel!”
Hungry, lost souls thronged the street. Their outcry’s literal meaning was, “Save!”
Another chant soon took its place.
The multitude pleading for a king did not see his crown of thorns as a symbol of glory. They failed to recognize the scarlet blood robing him at his moment of royal triumph. Not even his beloved followers perceived the correlated cries of salvation and sacrifice.
With raised hands and waving palms, today we cry, “Hosanna!” Let us lift our hearts with deep thanks for the cost of our salvation, paid by the King on our behalf. Let’s unfurl song-banners of praise for the Lamb of God, who rode into the midst of human sin and darkness to deliver us through his unsurpassed suffering into eternal life.
Blessed is the King of Kings!