Doubting Mother Theresa ~ John 20:24-29

24 But Thomas (who was called the Twin), one of the twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. ²⁵So the other disciples told him, ‘We have seen the Lord.’ But he said to them, ‘Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.’ ²⁶ A week later his disciples were again in the house, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were shut, Jesus came and stood among them and said, ‘Peace be with you.’ ²⁷Then he said to Thomas, ‘Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.’ ²⁸Thomas answered him, ‘My Lord and my God!’ ²⁹Jesus said to him, ‘Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.’ 

In 2007 the world discovered what would be for many in incomprehensible truth about one of the most remarkable Christians of the twentieth century – Mother Theresa. Her letters were published revealing in excruciating detail her own painful doubts over God’s absence. She writes

Since 49 or 50 this terrible sense of loss – this untold darkness – this loneliness – this continual longing for God – which gives me that pain deep down in my heart. – Darkness is such that I really do not see – neither with my mind nor with my reason. – This place of God in my soul is blank – There is no God in me. – When the pain of longing is so great – I just long & long for God – and then it is that I feel – He does not want me. . . Sometimes – I just hear my own heart cry out – “My God” and nothing else comes. – The torture and pain I can’t explain.[1] 

The news wires burned with endless commentators debating the merits and implications of these new revelations. Was Mother Theresa a hypocrite? Was she a true saint? Had she lost her faith? Or, were her struggles to be expected, even typical of many Christians?

What do two saints - Thomas, the apostle, and Mother Theresa - have to teach us about doubt and the Christian life?

               1.      Good Christians doubt and Doubters are welcomed to worship

Thomas is quite an interesting character in the Gospel of John – the only Gospel in which he actually speaks. We hear him speaking on three occasions. He first speaks in 11:16, when Lazarus has just died. The apostles do not wish to go back to Judea, where Jews had attempted to stone Jesus, but Thomas says: "Let us also go, that we may die with him.” Second, he speaks in 14:5 after Jesus has just explained that he is going away to prepare a heavenly home for his followers. Thomas reacts by saying, "Lord, we don’t know where you are going, so how can we know the way?" And finally, we meet him here where he expresses his doubts and demands to investigate Jesus wounds before he will believe. His comments and questions clearly mark him as a person of faith.

Now, I often meet people who believe that to be a doubter is to no longer be a Christian. And two popular translations – the NRSV and NIV don’t help matters much by having Jesus say to Thomas, “Do not doubt but believe.” Yet, the Greek is important to follow here literally – Jesus’ actual words are “Do not become unbelieving [apistos] but believing [pistos]. Doubt is the inbetween space between these two points – it is not something on its own but necessarily belongs with faith. Do you know that you are never absolutely sure you’re right when you’re living in faith? That’s why it’s called “faith”!

Yet, due to such poor associations of doubt with unbelief or faithlessness, many find themselves in deep pain thinking that their doubts sever them from the church or their faith. If that’s you this morning then I have good news for you – “Thomas,” John adamantly tells us, was “one of the twelve.” This doubter was hand-picked by Jesus and keeps his job, his title, and his role. And how do the others respond to his doubt? In staff meeting, Don pointed out that they are oddly silent – no pushy arguments, no condemnation, in fact, in vs. 26 it says, all 11 were hanging out together at the time when Jesus showed up to deal with it. So, if you are struggling with doubts – hang out with us! We love you, we need you. I think that one of the reasons the disciples don’t harp on Thomas is that they understood him and we’ve all been there. We’ve all struggled with elements of our faith, wondering if they were really true. 

So doubt is neither fatal nor extraordinary. If fact, the Gospels illustrate it as a normal part of a worshipping community, even by those who are closest to Jesus. Doubters are not skeptics or seekers. They are always insiders – uncertain about a faith to which they are no strangers and to which they have been committed. Jump with me quickly to Matthew 28:16-17, the verses just prior to Jesus’ Great Commission. It says, “The eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had directed them. When they saw him, they worshipped him; but some doubted.” So Matthew tells us that Thomas wasn’t alone. I want to tell you  - out there, you who are wrestling and struggling with doubt while we worship, neither are you. You are in good company. You can doubt and be welcomed here. And what does Jesus do? Chastise? Berate them? No, he gives them something to do – the Great Commission. And that leads to my next point.

               2.      When you doubt, Jesus says, “put your finger here.” – vs. 27

Caravaggio’s image of Thomas’ encounter with the resurrected Jesus is an interesting one. It’s an intimate sort of investigation that can leave one feeling a bit queasy. Notice how Jesus holds his arm and intentionally guides him, maybe even forces him, to explore the wound. 

With respect to doubt, Jesus rarely appears to engage with logical arguments but rather offers us to touch his wounds. I believe that Jesus and the Gospel writer are exposing us here to a deep theological truth if not a literal one. The wounds’ of Jesus represent “suffering love and service to us in obedience to God” - the physical experience and expression of God’s love. If you think about it – Jesus could have demonstrated who he was by any number of arguments, miracles, etc. but Thomas was right – the only credible evidence would have been his wounds, his suffering love. And you don’t have to live very long to face that reality – where the true test of love is found not in words or a romantic embrace but in an unwavering commitment despite circumstances of pain and difficulty. 

A very beloved professor at Westmont College, Dr. Bob Wennberg, a philosopher who passed away a few years ago, wrote a book about doubt called Faith At the Edge: A Book for Doubters. I am indebted to him for what follows. In his book, Bob beautifully argues that the best response to doubt and a sense of God’s absence is often not some extended philosophical discussion but for the doubter to reach out to others in their need, and doing so consciously in the name of Christ. In our woundedness, he argues, our doubt can be healed best when we tend to other’s wounds.

The famous Catholic writer, Flannery O’Connor once corresponded with a college student who had expressed to her his struggle with doubt. She told the student how the poet/physician Robert Bridges, an agnostic struggling with deep doubts, wrote to his friends Gerard Manley Hopkins, a poet/Jesuit priest, expressed his struggles and deep pain about understanding God’s absence. Manley responded with a two-word reply, “Give alms.” Manley was saying that God is to be experienced in Charity (in the sense of love for the divine image in human beings). Flannery writes, “Don’t get so entangled with intellectual difficulties that you fail to look for God in this way.” 1 John tells us that “God is love.” And if God is love, then God simply cannot fit solely into intellectual categories. To touch the wounds of Jesus is to recognize that love requires its own evidence, its own reasons, its own logic of service and commitment. And that “inner logic” brings me to my last point.

          3.      “Blessed” – What Mother Theresa can teach us about doubt and God’s absence

Doubt such as what Mother Theresa writes about can feel all the more painful, even cruel when we here Jesus say, “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.” Mother Theresa describes her doubt as inability “to see” God but she doesn’t sound “blessed.”

A critical step for Mother Theresa like many mature Christians before her, was her eventual understanding that her struggle with God’s absence was not due to her own fault but was actually God’s doing. Why? What is the point? Is there a compelling theological explanation for our doubts with God and God’s apparent absence in our lives? I think there is and believe that Mother Theresa can help us understand it.

The first thing that Mother Theresa did is important for all of us when we struggle with doubt. She sought help. She did not try to shoulder the burden alone but talked to trusted spiritual advisors to help her make sense of own experience. She worked with a spiritual director, the Jesuit theologian, Father Joseph Neuner, who helped frame her own experience within a broader perspective. And it helped. She recognized that doing doubt alone was a recipe for disaster. Like Thomas, she shared her doubt with others and discovered that she was not alone. Second, she discovered that the darkness of doubt with its pain and suffering rendered her more kind hearted, more able to empathize with the needy and forsaken – those who also felt they had been abandoned by God. Third, when she began to recognize a transformation in herself. She learned to embrace doubt and a sense of God’s absence as a strength and even source of joy. She said, 

“For the first time in 11 years  - I have come to love the darkness – For I believe now that it is a part, a very, very small part of Jesus’ darkness and pain on earth . . . Today really I felt a deep joy . . . More than ever I surrender myself to Him. Yes – more than ever I will be at his disposal.”

Let me be clear – doubt can be excruciatingly painful and Mother Theresa did not believe that doubt itself was life-giving but she did believe that God is. And in God’s economy – nothing is wasted and God can make even doubt a blessing. Doubt, in God’s hands, can help grow your faith, help you believe, help you to go the distance in your spiritual journey. 

And that brings us back to Thomas. Thomas Didymus – “the twin”. But whose twin? I’ve come to believe that he’s my twin and your twin. Church tradition tells us that Thomas took the gospel message all the way to India. If that’s true, then the quintessential doubter does something quite extraordinary. Of all the apostles, Thomas, travels the farthest distance to share the gospel, walks more miles (literally) for the sake of love.

Song: Doubting Thomas is a modern lament for the doubter by Nickel Creek (not a Christian group), if you doubt let it give you words to weep, words of comfort, words of hope. If you don’t doubt, let it give you words to pray and remind you of the struggle of many. Wherever you are, may you hear it and find your welcome in the wounds of Jesus amongst the church. 

You can hear the song with lyrics at this link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E3c_8hYK0eo

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[1] Cited in Wennberg, Faith at the Edge: A Book for Doubters (emphasis mine)

Skin in the Game: Why Praying "in the name of Jesus" matters ~ John 16:23-33

²³ On that day you will ask nothing of me. Very truly, I tell you, if you ask anything of the Father in my name, he will give it to you. ²⁴ Until now you have not asked for anything in my name. Ask and you will receive, so that your joy may be complete. ²⁵ “I have said these things to you in figures of speech. The hour is coming when I will no longer speak to you in figures, but will tell you plainly of the Father. ²⁶ On that day you will ask in my name. I do not say to you that I will ask the Father on your behalf; ²⁷ for the Father himself loves you, because you have loved me and have believed that I came from God. ²⁸ I came from the Father and have come into the world; again, I am leaving the world and am going to the Father.” ²⁹ His disciples said, “Yes, now you are speaking plainly, not in any figure of speech! ³⁰ Now we know that you know all things, and do not need to have anyone question you; by this we believe that you came from God.” ³¹ Jesus answered them, “Do you now believe? ³² The hour is coming, indeed it has come, when you will be scattered, each one to his home, and you will leave me alone. Yet I am not alone because the Father is with me. ³³ I have said this to you, so that in me you may have peace. In the world you face persecution. But take courage; I have conquered the world!”

His feats were legendary. Good looking, accomplished military commander, successful merchant – many looked at him as a model of heroism and truth leading to him becoming a major-general. Distinguished in many battles – Saratoga, Ridgefield, Fort Stanwix, often with a small force against superior odds, he proved himself time and time again as one of the more successful military strategist of the American Revolutionary war – a claim substantiated by the throngs of people who would shout his name as he entered towns that dotted that the eastern coast of the colonies: “Benedict Arnold, Benedict Arnold, Benedict Arnold.” His one act of treason altered his story, changed his name.

Names aren’t magical. Being called a Benedict Arnold doesn’t make you a traitor but its associations and inner meanings can change how you are perceived by others and how you even see yourself. In the same way, Jesus’ name isn’t some magical password of prayer, some mantra, or mystical “open sesame” for the spiritual life. But it does have some powerful associations that can affect your life deeply. I’d like to explore those today.

What does prayer “in the name of Jesus” mean? 

          1.      To pray in the name of Jesus is to understand that God can be trusted because God has skin in the game.

To pray in the name of Jesus is to recognize what Jesus has repeated so often in these last few chapters and throughout the John’s Gospel, “the Father and I are one.” So to pray in the name of Jesus has everything to do with who Jesus is and who God is. Jesus says in vs. 26, “One day you will pray in my name” and claims to speak “plainly of the Father.” To pray in the name of Jesus is to confess that God has skin in the game; that in Jesus we see God in action, God at work, God spoken and God revealed. It means that we can know to whom we are praying and how to pray. To pray in the name of Jesus is to acknowledge that Jesus is Lord and that the Father is teaching us through Jesus how to pray.

This brings us to that inscrutable mystery that plagues pastors and church-goers alike – the Trinity – that there is one God in three persons! Now when you hear the word “Trinity” maybe your response is “AHHHHHHHHH!” Or maybe you hear the word “Trinity” like I hear my mechanic talk about what’s wrong with my car – “so your exhaust manifold is leaking due to a busted gasket, wah wah wah wah.” Just fix it, I say to myself, I don’t need to understand it.” But prayer is the perfect context in which to discuss and understand this difficult truth because it has everything to do with how we pray, why we pray, what we should pray for, and whom we pray to. 

Praying in the name of Jesus means that the Father and the Son are one and that God the Father reveals himself bodily in Jesus. So what Jesus tells us of the Father is trustworthy and true. What one wills and does, the other wills and does – this is further added to by Jesus who says the Spirit only says what Jesus speaks, vs. 16:14. How does this affect how we view God? Well, in vs. 26 Jesus says, “I do not say to you that I will ask the Father on your behalf; for the Father himself loves you,”.  So Jesus does not placate the Father or do something that the Spirit refuses to do. So Jesus is claiming more than being the messiah but saying that he has a unique relationship with the Father who loves us. Trinitarian prayer stresses that all who God is expressed in all that God does. So Jesus doesn’t have to mediate for us in the sense of shielding us from a God who wants something for us other than salvation. I continually struggle with a bad Trinitarian theology in which I ask Jesus to go and speak to the scary God for me. Jesus’ own words are not, “I change God’s mind toward sinful human beings” or “don’t worry, he’s grumpy right now but I’ll put in a good for you”; rather Jesus says, “Ask in my name and you are talking to God, I am God and the Father loves you like I do.

More than that, however, it also means that Jesus is uniquely qualified to teach us what to pray for. To pray in the name of Jesus is to know what God wants. What God want us to pray for – is to pray about what Jesus said and did. Jesus is God’s answer to the riddle about God’s will. Too many evangelicals agonize over God’s supposedly secret, personal plan for their lives. Take heart – God’s will is Jesus Christ, God’s will with skin. 

          2.      To pray in the name of Jesus is to pray knowing that we have skin in the game.

I recently heard a marvelous story about a four-year-old child who awoke one night frightened, convinced that in the darkness there were monsters hiding in the closet. Alone, she ran panicked to her parent’s bedroom. Her mother calmed her down and, taking her by the hand, led her back to her own room where she turned on the light and reassured the child saying, “You needn’t be afraid, you are not alone here. God is in the room with you.” The child replied: “I know that God is here, but I need someone in this room who has some skin!”

To pray in the name of Jesus is to pray to the God who came and took on flesh, presence, and action. But the incarnation, God taking on flesh, is not simply a thirty-three year experiment by God in history but God’s continued bodily work in the world. God still has skin in the game, human skin, powered by His Spirit – the church. We are, Paul tells, the Body of Christ. We are God’s skin.

To pray in the name of Jesus therefore is not some desperate need to have a go between to save us from an angry God. To pray in the name of Jesus is to recognize that we are part of God’s concrete, enfleshed presence and plan to redeem and heal the earth and all that is in it. This is what it means to pray as a Christian rather than as a theist. Both believe in God but a theist prays to a distant God in heaven. A Christian prays to a God who brings “heaven to earth.” To pray in the name of Jesus is to recognize that the answer to prayer is now partially dependent upon being what we pray for. So when we finish a prayer “in the name of Jesus” we are not only asking God in heaven to act. We are also charging ourselves as the Body of Christ by the power of the Spirit with some responsibility for that action. To pray as a Christian, in other words, demands concrete involvement or it is not Christian prayer. To pray as a Christian is to demand God’s intervention but also our own. If my friend is sick and I pray that she gets better, but do not drive her to see the doctor, or visit her, I have prayed as a theist, not as a Christian. I have not given any flesh or skin to my prayer. This is the point of James who asks, “If a brother or sister is naked and lacks daily food, ¹⁶and one of you says to them, “Go in peace; keep warm and eat your fill,” and yet you do not supply their bodily needs, what is the good of that?” There is always a politic to prayer, there is always some necessary action for it to be prayer “in the name of Jesus.”

There is an Ingmar Berman movie called “The Serpent’s Egg” which powerfully illustrates my point. A priest has just finished presiding over a mass and is taking off his clerical robe when a woman confronts him. Middle-aged, needy, lonely, and suffering from a burdensome view of God she sobs to the priest, “I’m so alone, Father, nobody loves me! God is so far away! I don’t think he could love me anyway. Not the way I am! Everything is dark for me!” At first, the priest is more irritated than compassionate, but he finally says to the woman: “Kneel down and I will bless you. God seems far away. He cannot touch you right now, I know that, but I am going to put my hands on your head and touch you – to let you know that you are not alone, not unlovable, not in the darkness. God is here and God does love you. When I touch, God will touch you.” This is someone praying as a Christian, praying in the name of Jesus. This is someone who understands that we are God’s skin – that we have skin in the game.

          3.      To pray in the name of Jesus is to pray by the power of the Spirit who rose Jesus from the dead. 

In other words, to pray in the name of Jesus is to pray knowing that God has already acted and won in the death and resurrection of Jesus. To pray in the name of Jesus means that there is no such thing as a bad or wrong prayer but that all prayer is animated, worked with, empowered by God. When we pray in the name of Jesus we recognize that we are joining God in his work and he is not worried. I’m not suggesting that there’s not heart ache in this life nor that prayer can’t be vexing as we struggle to understand why some are answered and some seem not to be answered. I’m simply saying that in the end, heart ache doesn’t win because Jesus rose from the dead. And that same Spirit who rose Jesus from the dead, Jesus says in chapter 16, will guide and direct us. Friends, because God has skin in the game – God has already won and we can join him in his work. So to pray “in the name of Jesus” - to end your prayer with that phrase - is not some sort of divine magic but to remind yourself that you need not worry about life being redeemed, you are simply waiting and working with the God who will make it so.

Like the disciples, you may scatter when trouble comes your way. But be of good cheer – your life is not determined by what you fail to do but by what God the Father, Son and Holy Spirit have done. Jesus says, “I have conquered the world!” Doesn’t that make you want to pray?

But Also Lazarus . . . ~ John 12:9-19

⁹ Meanwhile a large crowd of Jews found out that Jesus was there and came, not only because of him but also to see Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. ¹⁰ So the chief priests made plans to kill Lazarus as well, ¹¹ for on account of him many of the Jews were going over to Jesus and believing in him.

¹² The next day the great crowd that had come for the festival heard that Jesus was on his way to Jerusalem. ¹³ They took palm branches and went out to meet him, shouting,

“Hosanna!”

“Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”

“Blessed is the king of Israel!”

¹⁴ Jesus found a young donkey and sat on it, as it is written:

¹⁵ “Do not be afraid, Daughter Zion;
    see, your king is coming,
    seated on a donkey’s colt.”

¹⁶ At first his disciples did not understand all this. Only after Jesus was glorified did they remember that these things had been written about him and that these things had been done to him.

¹⁷ Now the crowd that was with him when he called Lazarus from the tomb and raised him from the dead continued to spread the word. ¹⁸ Many people, because they had heard that he had performed this sign, went out to meet him. ¹⁹ So the Pharisees said to one another, “See, this is getting us nowhere. Look how the whole world has gone after him!” ~ John 12:9-19

In Ephesians 5 the Apostle Paul offers a provocative and poetic discussion of marriage only to turn the tables on his readers at the end by quoting a verse from Genesis about the two becoming one flesh and stating, “This is a great mystery, and I am applying it to Christ and the church.” Well, today I would like to take such a strategy as we look at this mysterious story of Lazarus and also apply it to Christ and the church. What does it mean for us to be a Lazarus community?

                1.      We gather to tell of what Jesus has done for us.

We must never underestimate the power of our stories of Jesus to change people’s lives – to believe in him, to let us know of what’s possible. Personal testimonies remind us how much our lives matter and that the deepest spiritual truths are not found in dry facts or impeccable logic but the courage to share our experiences of God, to ask meaningful questions of one another and the patience to listen closely for the answers.

This is not about ego so some reluctance is not a bad disposition to have – for Lazarus hadn’t truly done anything, he was dead at the time - but about people coming to Jesus “on account of” what Jesus has done for us (vs. 11). And some of you have had Jesus walk up to the tomb of your dreams, your health, your life and bring you back from the dead. And you removed every stitch of grave clothes but that which covers your mouth. Some of you are being story selfish or story phobic – not sharing with others the hopeful story that others might need to hear so that they can believe in Jesus. That’s why we are going to start hearing more testimonies. Someone rightfully asked me, “Why would we want to do that in worship?” Well, we need to look no further than the Bible to recognize this truth – the Bible is filled with stories, the Gospels promote them, and we are thrilled, joined together, and excited by them.  Stories are the stuff of faith.

When I went through my divorce I knew what the Bible said but longed for others who shared such a story of pain to give me comfort, to let me know that I was not alone. 

Melissa Caputo sharing with the teenagers about her experience as a high schooler in the Philippines.

For us to be a faithful church, like Lazarus, we must never fail to share what Jesus has done for us. You can start by sharing with Don or myself.

               2.      We gather as a fragile community whose life is often in jeopardy.

But if we have exciting stories to tell of resuscitation, it is also true that that’s not the whole story of our lives. We gather as a community resuscitated by Jesus but still waiting on the resurrection. This is an important distinction. Lazarus being brought back from the dead is not resurrection. Resuscitation is breath coming back into the body, the heart beating once again but still capable of stopping, dying. Resurrection is an entirely different kind of life, a very different state of being – an incorruptible, non-decaying life - like Jesus’ body after the crucifixion and all the amazing things it could do. Don’t get me wrong – Lazarus’ resuscitation may be one of the more dramatic and awe-inspiring miracles of the Gospels but we would do well to remember that while such a thing might be amazing, our story reminds us in vs. 10 that there are things, people, shadowy parts of this world which after the fact still want to end our fragile, little lives; that plot to kill us.

I’m always surprised by how many believe that the church and its worship are meant only to be a polished service for happy people. Such a vision, because it’s pure fantasy and not biblical, leaves many people hiding and wounded. People who fail to mention that lingering illness, that withering depression, that painful divorce, that financial mistake, that plot to end their lives. I’m not blaming individuals for this lack of sharing but trying to express a frustration at something the church often seems to fail to understand – this is a place and we are a people which acknowledge our resuscitations as well as our threats of death. And like Lazarus we didn’t ask for them, maybe we didn’t even cause them, but they’re still there. So we need people who have the courage to say, “Jesus saved me and now I am struggling.” “Jesus pulled me out of the grave and now I fear those who seek to take my life.” 

Story: I met a woman who had been a recovering alcoholic and Christian for 13 years - she understood that her new life in Christ still needed a place for the broken parts, a place to struggle with life-killing tragedy like a child abused by a relative. But she couldn’t go to church for that, she told me despairingly, she would go to AA where others could accept her pain.

It’s funny to realize that we often speak of the church as a hospital but then are surprised to find sick people there. Can you imagine the folly of showing up in the ER only to respond, “I feel great. I’m fine. No troubles here.” Or to be told, “Hey, if you’re so sick, why did you come?”

If what I am saying is correct then we should not be surprised that we find every kind of sickness within our churches. The presence of those pathologies should then not deflect us from going to church but, instead, positively beckon us there.

               3.      We gather as a Hosanna community committed to lament and praise.

Lazarus’ story and Jesus’ triumphal entry are a good model for balanced thinking about who we are as the church. It reminds us that we aren’t simply people brought back to life nor are we victims known only by threats of death. It means that the life of faith is never only triumphant or struggling, that this life, cannot only be praise or merely lament. Luke’s account of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem is always a sobering reminder of the exciting journey of faith – amidst praise and adulation, Jesus, Luke shares, weeps. We worship a praise-worthy yet weeping King.  

Another way of capturing what I’m trying to say can be found in the crowds cry of “Hosanna!” Commentators puzzle over the ambiguity of this Hebraism which means “save” and what the crowd is actually doing. Some point out that “Hosanna” was a prayer for help – used for any number of petitions. “Helps us, O Lord, Save us, O God, give us what we need!” Other scholars point out that the term was used as an acclamation or a cry of praise. “Praise and thanks, O God! Blessing and honor to you, O Lord!”

And Lazarus? Which one would he be saying? Well, I imagine that as he joined the throngs crying “Hosanna! Hosanna!” Lazarus who was brought back from the dead, whom the chief priests plotted to kill, who loved Jesus and who was probably afraid – he understood better than anyone what it means to follow the Jesus riding slowly on a donkey, to the sounds of praise while tears fall from his eyes. This side of the resurrection we can’t decide which “Hosanna” is the right one – praise or lament - we simply have to say them both. 

And there is an odd promise in this text if we will be that Lazarus community that shouts Hosanna! The chief priests offer it as a complaint but for us it should be our prayer. “Look,” they said, “how the whole world has gone after him!” May our “Hosannas” bear witness to that.