“How Holy Week Taught Me There Is Always a Reason to Shout ‘Hosanna!,’” Liahona, Apr. 2026.
From YA Weekly
How Holy Week Taught Me There Is Always a Reason to Shout “Hosanna!”
“Hosanna” is an expression of faith in God’s ability to save us, His covenant people.
Palm Sunday, which begins our Holy Week celebrations, is a joyous day. It marks the triumphal entry of Jesus Christ into the Holy City and is still celebrated by Christians in Israel today.
On this day, the multitude “took branches of palm trees, and went forth to meet him, and cried, Hosanna: Blessed is the King of Israel that cometh in the name of the Lord” (John 12:13).
As a study abroad student in Jerusalem, I participated in this commemorative event. Standing with a palm reed in my hand, I was inspired by how many other Christians had traveled to the Holy City because they loved and wanted to celebrate Jesus Christ.
People sang, cheered, praised, and danced. Just like in Jesus’s time, they waved their leaves from the top of the Mount of Olives, down to the Kidron Valley, past the Garden of Gethsemane, and into the Old City. Throughout the procession, I heard continuous shouts of “Hosanna!”
It was an experience I’ll never forget.
A few years later, on another Palm Sunday, I was far less joyful. Instead of waving a palm frond, I lay sick in bed. I reflected on how I’d been so happy shouting “Hosanna!” in Israel. But not that morning.
Somewhere amid my internal complaints, a thought came into my mind: “Do you not still have great reason to shout ‘Hosanna!’?”
“Hosanna!” is an exclamation of adoration. But it can also be a plea: “God save us. Help me, please.” And at times, “Hosanna” is an expression of faith in God’s ability to save His covenant people.
Recalling the events of Holy Week has taught me how these exclamations of “Hosanna!” are powerful—both in despair and in triumph. Through four pivotal days of this week, I’m learning to better echo the sentiments of those present at His triumphal entry two thousand years ago.
Thursday: He Taught Me About Redemption
On Thursday, Jesus gathered with His Apostles for the Last Supper and instituted the sacrament (see Matthew 26:26–29).
I love that the sacrament instituted during the last week of Christ’s life thousands of years ago is now part of our every week. President Jeffrey R. Holland (1940–2025), President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, taught, “This hour ordained of the Lord is the most sacred hour of our week.”
Whether two thousand years ago in Israel or today in the pews of your local ward or branch, the power of God to sanctify, deliver, and redeem is unchanged.
Because of that, I can shout “Hosanna!” Every week, I can plead for God’s help, and the Savior can make me whole again.
Good Friday: He Conquered the Pains of Death
On Good Friday, we remember the events of Christ’s trial and Crucifixion (see Alma 7:11–12).
Recently, I learned of a young wife and mother who passed away in a tragic accident. Though I hardly knew her, I wept over this loss. I cried for the unfairness of it all and for the miracle that didn’t happen.
While in my grief, these words come into my mind again and again:
“Christ can heal this too.”
So I say, “Hosanna! Because of Jesus Christ and the events of Good Friday, I am not alone in my devastation. Hosanna! Jesus Christ has carried my sorrows. Hosanna! He can heal me, regardless of the pain I experience.”
Saturday: He Sustains Me in the Waiting
Like the disciples of old, I’ve experienced days when I felt hopeless. I have even felt abandoned by God. I pled for many years that I would find someone to marry. And then for years after I did get married that we would somehow be able to have a baby despite the challenges we were facing.
Even still, I feel a deep ache and longing for promises that seem currently unmet, unseen, or unheard by God. I’ve experienced loneliness and uncertainty that I haven’t known how to deal with.
But to me, the Saturday of Holy Week represents a day of waiting. A day of feeling unmet expectations. A day of … in between.
In preparation for each sabbath in Israel, many of our Jewish friends congregate at the Western Wall. There, you’ll find them dressed in traditional attire, reverently standing with prayers in hand.
They write prayers on slips of paper and place them between the rocks of that wall. Year after year, they wait for the Messiah.
Witnessing their devotion in that holy place changed the focus of my own “in between” Saturdays. As I worship in the temple and pray, I’m learning that God’s silence doesn’t equate to God’s absence or a refusal to answer our prayers.
There is sanctification in the Saturdays of our lives because of what comes after.
I’m learning how to say “Hosanna” when I’m still waiting desperately to receive what God promised He could deliver.
Easter Sunday: He Triumphed over All, So I Can Too
I love Mary Magdelene and how she represents all of us in her need for Jesus Christ, in her sorrow waiting for Him at the sepulchre, in her failure to recognize Him immediately, and in her being known by Him by name (see John 20:11–16). And I love that she became the first recorded witness of Christ as the risen Lord.
In Jerusalem, over the garden tomb believed to be Christ’s burial place, is carved this inscription: “He is not here—for He is risen.”
That is the message I find most worth shouting “Hosanna!” for.
The empty tomb is a reminder that Jesus Christ saves me. He saves me from the pains of sin, devastating failures, the loss of loved ones, loneliness, discouragement, despair, and all that is unfair about life.
And He blesses me instead. He blesses me with encompassing peace, sustaining hope, the promise of healing, joyful anticipation, victory, and perfect love.
My prayer is that regardless of where we are in striving for faith in Jesus Christ, you and I find reason to approach this Holy Week in the same way the first one began:
“Hosanna: Blessed is the King of Israel that cometh in the name of the Lord” (John 12:13).