The first Palm Sunday was not a practice in social distancing. It was crowded, the streets overflowing with jostling people waving branches high and crying Hosanna, Hosanna to the King! It was full of people, hearts overflowing that the Promised Messiah was among them and the long years of waiting in silence were over. The Israelites knew about loneliness, they knew about isolation, they knew about living through fears and unknowns. When Jesus was born, God had been silent for hundreds of years. No word, no prophets, just desperate hearts clinging to the whispered hope of a Messiah, an Emmanuel who would be always-near. When Jesus came, full of compassion, full of God’s faithfulness to His promises, full of near-ness, the overflowing joy of the Israelites was evident in Palm Sunday as they cried Hosanna! In Hebrew, hosanna means to save or rescue, a savior. And that is what the Bible promises the Messiah is. One who saves us.

And so this year, as we sit alone in our homes, walking through Holy Week as we social distance, we can know this: the One who came to the Israelites- in the midst of their silence, in the midst of their unknowns, in the midst of their isolation- is the same Savior who draws near to us. In the midst of our silence. In the midst of our unknowns. In the midst of our isolation. He hears our whispered Hosannas, our whispered cry to our Savior, and draws near to us, the ever present Emmanuel.

This year, our hosanna might sound a little hollow in our ears and feel a little lonely in our hearts; but to Jesus’ ear, it’s the sound of His people, all over the world, digging in and holding on to the promises of His word. It’s the sound of His people choosing to worship Him where they are instead of where they want to be. It’s the sound of His people keeping steadfast Hope in His goodness in all things. It’s His people choosing to be light in the darkness. And this Palm Sunday, as we sang out our lonely hosannas, as our hearts longed for connection in the midst of fears and unknowns, He was there. In the tears clinging to our lids, in the broken crack of our voices, in the tight hugs as we clung to our immediate families and sang out. Jesus, Emmanuel, always-with-us, draws near to the broken hearted, the lonely, the vulnerable. And we can see that in the midst of the chaos all around us, He remains, as constant and trust worthy as He was when He walked the crowded streets on that first Palm Sunday. And He is with us. Our Savior. Hosanna to the King!