Hosanna! But Which King Are You Cheering For?

Introduction

On Palm Sunday, the crowd cheers Jesus in the streets of Jerusalem. They shout "Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord, the King of Israel." Palm branches wave, the entrance is triumphal. And yet, five days later, the same crowd will shout "Crucify him!" What happened in between? A misunderstanding about who this King truly is. In this message, Togbe Naingaye raises a question that runs through the entire Holy Week and concerns you today: Hosanna when everything goes well, when your prayers are answered as you wish—but when the trial comes, when God's silence settles in, when his help looks nothing like what you imagined, do you not also abandon him on the road to Emmaus?

Message Outline

1.A misunderstanding that runs through Jesus' entire life

From the birth of Jesus, Herod hears that "the king of the Jews has been born" (Matthew 2:2) and can only see it through the lens of political power: a rival, a threat, a throne to defend.
Wherever Christ comes into the world, those who feel threatened will seek to snuff out this newborn life. Herod kills innocents because of a misunderstanding in his mind.
Yet Christ comes neither in a palace nor with an army. He comes as a baby, stripped of his power. A baby does not impose himself; he lets himself be adopted—this is the first sign that God does not reign as men reign.
After the feeding of the five thousand, the crowd wants to make Jesus king by force. He withdraws to a mountain by himself (John 6:15). He does not refuse this crown because he is not a king, but because his kingdom is not what the crowd imagines.
Paul will put it this way in Romans 14:17: "For the kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking, but of righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Spirit." Jesus is not against your material needs—he even multiplies the bread—but if that is your only reason for following him, your faith will waver at the first day of difficulty.

2.The signs of Palm Sunday and the tears of Jesus

"Hosanna" means "save us now, save us we pray." It is the cry of a people in suffering, under domination, awaiting deliverance—but it is also a cry of hope, because they have identified the one they are calling on for rescue.
The people hold in memory the Maccabean revolt, about 150 years earlier, when Israel freed itself from Greco-Syrian occupation. They expect a military liberator of the same kind. Jesus, however, has come to free them from an enemy far more dangerous than Rome.
Matthew adds a detail: the crowd also cries "Hosanna to the Son of David." For the people, the Son of David is the vanquisher of Goliath, the strong man. But in the Scriptures, David wanted to build the temple and God told him: it will not be you, it will be your son. Solomon—whose name means peace—builds the first temple; the messianic Son comes to build the ultimate temple, not of stone or gold, but in the heart of man.
Jesus then performs a prophetic act: he rides a donkey. The horse was the mount of war and conquest; the donkey, the mount of peace. Zechariah had announced it four centuries earlier: "Rejoice greatly, Daughter Zion! See, your king comes to you, righteous and victorious, lowly and riding on a donkey" (Zechariah 9:9). And Zechariah continues: "He will proclaim peace to the nations." God's kingdom goes beyond "he is my God alone"—he comes even for those you consider your enemies.
Luke records a detail the other Gospels do not preserve: at the sight of Jerusalem, Jesus weeps over it (Luke 19:41-42). A striking contrast: the crowd shouts for joy, and he sheds tears. He knows that five days later, the same crowd will shout "Crucify him!" He sees a city that is missing its peace because its faith is based on material accomplishments and not on who he truly is.

3.When the misunderstanding falls, peace begins -- on the road to Emmaus

On the Sunday of the resurrection, two disciples leave Jerusalem with their heads down and take the road in the opposite direction, toward Emmaus. For them, it is over. The one in whom they had believed did not fulfill the mission they had projected onto him.
A stranger joins them on the road: it is Jesus. But they do not recognize him. A troubling detail: normally, a disciple can recognize his master. If they do not recognize him, it is because they had formed an image of Christ that does not match the real Christ. God warned us: do not make images of him. Yet in our minds, we can freeze God into an image that does not look like him.
A precious contrast: they do not recognize Christ, but Christ recognizes them. Out of the crowd of thousands he had fed, he knows each one individually. Even when you form a wrong image of him, he recognizes you and he wants to walk with you.
Cleopas sums up all the disappointment: "We had hoped that he was the one who was going to redeem Israel." The verb is in the past tense—they no longer hope. How many of us have lived that moment, when the image of God we had made for ourselves collapses, when prayer no longer seems to be heard?
Jesus does not abandon them. He walks with them and explains, beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, how the Scriptures spoke of him. "Did not the Messiah have to suffer these things and then enter his glory?" The cross is not a failure; it is the way, it is the plan from the very beginning. Isaiah 53:5 had announced it: "He was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him." The disciples knew these texts, but they were blinded by the image they had made for themselves.

Key Takeaways

Christ does not impose himself; he offers himself. He comes in vulnerability—from the manger to the cross—so that you may adopt him freely, out of love and not by force.
A faith based on material accomplishments or specific expectations is fragile. The day the trial comes, it wavers and scatters—like the crowd that shouted Hosanna five days before shouting Crucify him.
The kingdom of God is not first about what you eat or what you obtain; it is righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Spirit. Seek first his kingdom, and the rest will be given to you as well.
Your image of Christ may not be Christ. When your prayer is not answered the way you wanted, the real question is not "why, God?" but "is he love? Does he love me?"—and the answer is yes.
Even when you walk toward Emmaus, head down, Christ recognizes you and draws near. True peace begins when the misunderstanding about him falls away and you receive him as he is.

Personal Application

What specific expectation have you placed on Jesus, and are you perhaps ready to lay it down this week in order to receive him as he is?
What image of Christ—shaped by your hopes, your disappointments, or your needs—do you need to let go of in order to see the true face of the King of Peace?
What is your primary motivation when you come to Christ: his blessings for you, or his reign in your heart? What would you do if the blessings stopped?
In what trial have you stopped saying "I hope" and started saying "I had hoped"? Can you, on the road to Emmaus, let Jesus reopen the Scriptures with you?
Is your heart a temple where Christ takes pleasure in reigning—or merely a place where you go to find him when you need something?

Cited Verses

Frequently Asked Questions

What does the word Hosanna really mean when cried out on Palm Sunday?

Hosanna literally means "save us now, save us we pray." It is first and foremost the cry of a people in distress, under domination, awaiting deliverance. But because this cry is addressed to someone they have identified as savior, it also becomes a cry of hope and victory. On Palm Sunday, the crowd recognizes in Jesus the one who can save—but they expect a political liberation, not the liberation of the heart that he came to offer.

Why did Jesus choose a donkey rather than a horse to enter Jerusalem?

In the culture of the time, the horse was the mount of war, conquest, and domination; the donkey, that of peace. By choosing a donkey, Jesus fulfills a prophecy announced by Zechariah more than four centuries earlier: "See, your king comes to you, lowly and riding on a donkey" (Zechariah 9:9). He visually declares to the crowd that he is not a warlord come to overthrow Rome, but a king of peace who comes to offer that peace even to the nations—including those believed to be enemies.

What should I do when I no longer recognize Jesus in a trial I am going through?

The road to Emmaus teaches three things. First, if you no longer recognize him, it may be because you had formed an image of him that does not match who he truly is. Second, even when you turn your back on Jerusalem, Christ still recognizes you individually and draws near. Third, clarity returns not first through a new circumstance but through a return to the Scriptures: "their hearts were burning within them while he talked" even before they recognized him. Let him reopen the Word with you, and ask the real question—not "why, God?" but "does he love me?"

to take notes and ask questions.