Like many Britons, I still feel the jolt of the unfamiliar when I hear the National Anthem sung as, "...God save the King". For all of my life, until a week ago, we had a queen to reign over us. So I can be forgiven for taking my time to adjust to having King Charles III as my sovereign.
Now the days are filled with colour and pageantry. I love it. I appreciate the continuity with the past. I enjoy the legacy of hundreds of years of history, the tradition, the pomp and circumstance. As I write these words, the Queen's State Funeral is only a couple of days away. I shall watch it all and drink in the scriptures that are read out on these occasions. I shall add my amens to the prayers that are prayed. I shall pray too for the new King and for his family, that they may be comforted at this sad time.
My thoughts will also drift wider. In church last Sunday, we sang worship songs that we have sung on many other occasions. But every reference to Christ as King struck me afresh. The mention of Jesus as King of Kings came with new relevance and poignancy.
The Jesus-follower is exhorted in the New Testament to honour earthly kings. We do that gladly as we serve and honour the One who is above all others, King Jesus.
For the past few months I have been working through the Gospel of Matthew, slowly, verse by verse. I am comparing translations, reading commentaries alongside the text and making copious notes. I have reached Matthew 21 and today I was reading about the "triumphant entry" of Jesus into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday. Except that it wasn't a triumphant entry - those words are not found in the text - it was the humble entry into the city of a meek and humble King while the crowd loudly proclaimed his kingship and messiahship (and His divinity, if you study the passage carefully) to a city that largely knew little of Jesus.
As Jesus entered the city, "the whole city was stirred". As F. D. Bruner says in his magnificent commentary on Matthew,
Literally Jerusalem "quaked" (in the Greek, eseisthē, a word from which we get our "seismic"). Jerusalem was last moved like this at Christmas when the Magi entered looking for the newborn king (Matthew 2:3), and it will literally "quake" twice more like this---on Good Friday at Jesus' death (Matthew 27:51) and on Easter Sunday at Jesus' resurrection (Matthew 28:2-4). The question the city asks is definitely a "main issue"; it is the question Matthew wants everyone to ask: "Who is this man?"
The crowd shouted, "Hosanna to the Son of David". G. R. Osborne explains it like this,
"Hosanna to the Son of David!" (Ὡσαννὰ τῷ υἱῷ Δαυίδ). Behind their cry is Ps 118:25-26, part of the "Hallel Psalms" (Pss 113-18) used in Sabbath worship and at festivals, including the Passover celebration that is just a week away. It is a natural passage for the pilgrims in procession to Jerusalem (Ps 118:27, "with boughs in hand, join in the festal procession"). "Hosanna" (ὡσαννά) is the transliteration of the Aramaic (the Hebrew would be hošîʿānāʾ) and in Psalm 118:25 LXX is translated as a prayer, "Save now."
Its force here is debated. Most believe that in the first century it had become a cry of praise, though a few would retain the prayer form as a cry from Ps 118 for the kingdom to arrive. The former is more likely, especially with the added "to the Son of David." This is a major motif because of the twofold "Son of David" in the previous episode (Matthew 20:30-31); this is the coronation procession of the royal Messiah. The people are calling out divine blessings on their expected deliverer, but they will be delivered by the suffering Servant rather than a conquering king.1
1 Osborne, G.R. (2010) Matthew. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan (Zondervan Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament), p. 756. (Emphasis mine).
God save the King! Hosanna! Save now!