Walke: Our children are counting on us to take the threats to their safety seriously

Now that it’s been over a month since Palm Sunday, perhaps it’s safe to bring this up. Palm Sunday, the Sunday before Easter, is the traditional celebration of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem and begins Holy Week. I speak for many pastors when I say that it ranks among our least favorite Sundays.

It’s because of the palms, which are a complete nightmare. Churches hand children leafy branches and encourage them to reenact the Jesus parade by waving the palm branches around while shouting, “Hosanna!” It’s all fun and games until someone loses an eye.

In the retellings of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem, three of the Gospels describe the crowd shouting, “Hosanna!”, a word we often use as a synonym for hallelujah, an utterance of worship and adoration. Many who cheered Jesus into town that day were certainly using the word in this sense, and this is the way many churches reenact the scene.

But the people who gathered to welcome Jesus into Jerusalem needed more than a parade; they needed peace. They were oppressed by the Roman Empire, starved for food and freedom. Not in the text, but what scholars feel sure of, was that the Roman Empire was likely throwing its own parade at the same time on the other side of town for Pontius Pilate, who would have entered Jerusalem with as much pomp and circumstance necessary to remind the people who was in charge. As theologians Marcus Borg and Dominic Crossan note: Jesus’ procession proclaimed the kingdom of God; Pilate’s proclaimed the power of empire.

This is why the people were crying out, “Hosanna!” Theologian James Mayes explains, “Hosanna is the Greek transliteration of a Hebrew imperative phrase meaning ‘save now.’” That is what the people were shouting that day so long ago. “Save us! From oppression, poverty, want, and violence. Save us!” To cry, “Hosanna!” is a call for help, an emergency flare, a distress signal.

It is not hard, then, to see the irony of how we have tried to keep this scene light, make it a cute reenactment for children, instead of a desperate prayer of deliverance. Ironic indeed, given that our children are crying out, “Save us!” in real life, as gunfire rings out in school hallways. “Save us!” they cry silently, huddled behind locked doors trying to keep quiet to avoid detection. “Save us!” they cry, as they run as fast as their little legs will carry them across the wide, exposed expanse of the school yard to terrified parents.

“Save us!”

This is what Jesus heard as he entered the city. And Jesus, seeing their tears and struggle, was so moved, he tweeted, “Thoughts and prayers!” and went on his way.

No, that’s not what Jesus did. In Matthew, Jesus’ next stop was the temple, a place of power and corruption at the time. Instead of wringing his hands, Jesus flipped the tables of injustice, unseated oppressors and disrupted business as usual.

This is not a story in which we are to stick to the sidelines, Church, watching Jesus do his thing. His thing is our thing. Let us be found shoulder-to-shoulder with Jesus, walking towards the fray, turning thoughts and prayers into policy and change. We can save our children with universal background checks, red flag laws and assault weapon bans.

Our children are counting on us to take this story seriously. Perhaps when we find the courage, they’ll throw us a real parade.

The Rev. Lori Allen Walke is senior minister at Mayflower Congregational United Church of Christ.  

This article originally appeared on Oklahoman: This is not a story in which we are to stick to the sidelines, Church