Why We Can Say: Hosanna in the Highest

by Editor · April 14, 2019

Hosanna! The crowds in Jerusalem afforded Jesus a euphoric entry into Jerusalem. Within five days, the blink of an eye in a lifetime, Jesus died an unheralded death on a cross.

At Mass each week (or, for some, every day) we echo these crowds as we exclaim, “Hosanna in the highest”, in exultation of our Lord.

And yet, not too long after we issue our resolution of praise, many of us become all too human again and, like the crowds in Jerusalem, separate ourselves from Jesus, however briefly, in thought or deed, by commission or omission.

In truth, most of us are like those masses in Jerusalem who chanted their hosannas and waved their palms at Jesus, and soon abandoned him

As we enter Holy Week, it is our impulse to be on Jesus’ side, seeking to ally ourselves with him. In truth, most of us are like those masses in Jerusalem who chanted their hosannas and waved their palms at Jesus, and soon abandoned him.

In Holy Week, more than at any other time of the year, we must find a measure of identification with them, as well as with the disciples who fled after Jesus’ arrest, and with Peter who found that his pledges of unwavering fidelity to Christ were hopeful platitudes.

Holy Week shines the spotlight on us as sinners, reminding us that our own pledges of fidelity to Jesus are as fickle as Peter’s.

Holy Week calls us to take stock of our sins when we lacked love and charity, when we idly gossiped, when we wished somebody else ill, when we broke God’s Commandments.

This examination of conscience is part of our participation in the sacrament of Reconciliation, especially before Easter, when we confess our sins before God and ask for his forgiveness.

Part of the deal is our commitment not to repeat these sins—or at least to try our best not to. But if our treatment of others is an indication, chances are that either we do not confess our trespasses against others, default on our commitment not to repeat our sins, or do not think that our poor treatment of others is in fact sinful.

Sinning against our neighbour is not just the terrain of obvious villains such as the abusers of women and children, conmen, drug dealers, price fixers or corrupt careerists. Sometimes, we may not think of our trespasses as sinful.

For example, as Pope Francis keeps reminding us, gossip or rumour-mongering are behaviours we might not regard as sinful. But gossip, rumour, innuendo and lies have a way of affecting the lives of their targets.

The result may be relatively harmless (say, a dented ego) or grave (say, the loss of a job). Either way, by acting with malicious intent, a lack of charity, or thoughtless imprudence, the offender negates Christ’s love.

Such conduct is more shocking yet when set within the context of the Church — in parishes, in chanceries, in the Roman curia — and even committed in the name of serving Christ.

Ideally, our interior examination should reveal how our actions, behaviours and hypocrisies — whether or not we classify them as sins — affect other people and our own relationship with God.

We are called to confess our sins, in the knowledge that God in his mercy forgives us, and make reparation.

With our own imperfections as faithful followers of Christ revealed and acknowledged, we then humble ourselves before the cross on Good Friday, in awe and shock at the cruel death Jesus suffered for our weaknesses, and in deferential gratitude for the gift of everlasting life we may redeem because of it.

The Passion of the Lord humiliates us in our fragility as followers of Christ, but our humiliation is laced with joy in anticipation of the Risen Christ whom we welcome on Easter Sunday, as he issues us an invitation to be with him forever.

Even as we know that next year we will again bring our weaknesses and sinfulness to the cross, we continue to live in hope because of Christ’s promise of redemption.

And that is why we can say at Mass: Hosanna in the highest!