We hear these words each time we gather to break bread. The first two lines of the Sanctus draw on Isaiah’s vision of God attended by angels who sing, ‘Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory’ (6.3). Then, with the word ‘Hosanna’, we are catapulted to Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem (Mk 11.1-11). It is the word of Palm Sunday.
On the only other occasion it’s found in the Bible - at Psalm 118.25 – ‘hosanna’ is a cry for help. But that cry was answered almost before it was out of the psalmist’s mouth with the exclamation, ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!’ (v26). So the meaning of ‘Hosanna’ gradually changed from a cry for help to a shout of joyous relief. That’s what we hear from those crowds, oppressed by Roman occupation, on the first Palm Sunday. In Jesus, the ‘blessed’ one coming ‘in the name of the Lord’, they recognise their hope and salvation. At the bottom of Duccio’s painting (left), Jerusalem’s door is wide open for him at last.
After an awed and serene Sanctus, we hear a carefree joy in the Benedictus from Bob Chilcott’s Little Jazz Mass. No wonder these words belong now at the heart of the celebration at which the same ‘blessed’ one comes to us in bread and wine. Awed and joyous ourselves, we open the doors of our lives to welcome him in.