Hosanna

The Christian tradition I grew up in didn’t celebrate Palm Sunday, or Easter, or Christmas.  To those who care we were Armenian Pelagian Dispensational Amillennialists heavy handed on the restrictiveness of the silence of Scripture with a watered down view of atonement.

Not that anyone does.

But I do. I’ll be paying off college loans until I’m 60 for the privilege of being able to use that language.   It’s cathartic.

I was taught that all time and places were sacred which means that no time or place is sacred.  It’s the dilemma of The Incredibles – if everyone is special no one is special. 

 It is bankruptcy of the soul to fail to celebrate. 

Sometimes what is needed is to create the time and space to say “Hosanna.”