Sing Hosanna To The King
South Bay Christian Alliance, Chula Vista, CA
Yesterday was Palm Sunday. We had a lovely time at church.
And while no Dickensian Ghost-of-Palm-Sunday-Past visited me, I caught myself reminiscing. Holidays and rituals are meant for such a thing, I suppose.
One year we were living in New York, involved in a church that had more-than-a-few extroverted Pentocostaly excitable saints. We were encouraged to wave our palm fronds in the air (and wave them like we just didn’t care.)
One year I was on a missions trip in Mexico with my high school youth group. It was the first time I ever attended a bilingual service and I think the service lasted three hours. We teenagers thought it lasted too long at the time (I vividly remember complaining about it.) Oh youth. It’s wasted on the young. Now that I’m older, a three hour service sounds lovely. Especially if I could time machine back to a stage of life where I was among peers, toddler-free, and had no role in preparing or managing the service.
Oh wait. That thought is entirely misplaced. It misses the whole emphasis of Palm Sunday. Palm Sunday isn’t about sitting still and day-dreaming about a quieter time. It’s about responding in praise without reservation. It’s about shouting aloud. It’s about activity.
Matthew 21:1-17 records Jesus’ arrival in Jerusalem.
But when the chief priests and the scribes saw the wonderful things that he did, and the children crying out in the temple, “Hosanna to the Son of David!” they were indignant, and they said to him, “Do you hear what these are saying?” And Jesus said to them, “Yes; have you never read,
“‘Out of the mouth of infants and nursing babies you have prepared praise’?”
Matthew 21:15-16
So I gladly embraced Palm Sunday yesterday and all that the Lord has for me in this season of life. I have the honor and privilege of teaching my toddler about King Jesus. Every Sunday, while Jeff preaches, I go into the church nursery to watch Silas and read him a Bible story. Yesterday, the first thing Silas said when I latched the nursery gate was, “Silas wants to pray to Jesus.” (We’re working on not using the third person.)
So we prayed for his dad, and that he would faithfully preach the Word of God. I prayed for the manifest presence of God to be with us. And I asked God to touch the minds and hearts of those who came that morning to hear from Him.
After church, we came home (after a quick Costco-run) and noticed the neighbors across the street were putting lots of stuff on the curb. Yes please. We swooped up a bed, a bed frame, and two dressers, and put them in our garage since we’re furnishing the church parsonage for future interns. God is at work ya’ll!
Later, we listened to The Corner Room’s Zechariah 9:9 (a Palm Sunday-ee song.)
And we listened to Shai Linne’s Jesus Kids (another Palm Sunday-ee song.)
Then, Silas crayoned the living room rug that I washed 24 hours ago (yes, washed, I have a Ruggable.)
So with a crayoned rug, I sing hosanna to the King. Rejoice greatly, shout aloud, behold our King, salvation is here.
We sat on cold metal chairs in a white room, leaning against a cold metal examining table...waiting. Our beautiful dog Sabrina had been hurried to the back of the emergency clinic without us. She was in danger and distress.
It’s been a minute.
I love that phrase. I probably overuse it. And my repetitious use of it probably annoys those in my listening (or instant messaging) range.
Why did the tomato blush? He saw the salad dressing! Thank you for laughing. I appreciate it.
When you gotta go, you gotta go.
Our friends returned to the mission field last week. They had to go.
Lakes are pretty cool places. One might say that they're refreshing.
Months ago, we taught Silas how to count to twenty. Recently, he has been skipping six. Poor six.
I’m a huge fan of Os Guinness (and his ministry The Trinity Forum.) If you haven’t heard of him, go look him up on your favorite podcast app or on YouTube because he is a gazillion times more articulate than I am.
In the past ten months, I have had to hold fast to Hebrews 13:1-2a, “Let brotherly love continue. Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers.”
Hospitality to strangers is easy to neglect.
What do you think of when you hear, “when strivings cease?”
“When the burden is too much for you to bear, you do not need stronger shoulders, you need weaker knees.”
Dr. Mitch Kim
What do you do when life is rough? If you’re a follower of Christ, what do you do when your pursuit of Christian maturity keeps calling you onward and upward, to terrain that is steeper and more challenging?
What do you do when life is rough? If you’re a follower of Christ, what do you do when your pursuit of Christian maturity keeps calling you onward and upward, to terrain that is steeper and more challenging?
Our cool-factor here at SBCA has been notched up tenfold the past month. Why you may ask? Great question!
Yesterday was Palm Sunday. We had a lovely time at church.
And while no Dickensian Ghost-of-Palm-Sunday-Past visited me, I found myself reminiscing. Holidays and rituals are meant for such a thing, I suppose.
We attended a Christmas party last December and within two minutes of our arrival, Silas (age 2) showed me a toy he had just found. We were outside, in the dark, and on time (meaning not many people were there yet.) Looking around, I asked him, “where did you find this tractor?”
I nerded out this weekend at a ‘Faith and Science’ conference held here in San Diego. Praise the Lord for paid time off and for a grandma who is willing to watch the kid.
In the summer of 2007, in the sticks of San Diego county, Jeff and I met at Indian Hills Camp.
Oh Indian Hills Camp. So dusty. So Wild West-y. So can’t-ever-forget-that-camp-song-y.
No, this isn’t about Eutychus (Acts 20:9.) This is about the first Sunday of March in 2019 when someone suddenly died at the church we were serving at.
It’s early March and the evenings are still too chilly for me, even in San Diego. Since I’ve committed to staying inside in the evening until the weather warms up, it seems like a good time to start spring cleaning.
I am a terrible movie watcher. I don’t cope well with plot holes. Everyone else will talk about the scenes they loved, the parts that captured their imaginations. I, however, will talk about plot holes and major oversights.
During a short vacation to the mountains last summer, I had the time to read a few books
A few Sundays ago, we were singing ‘Be Still My Soul’ at church and my not-so-still two-year-old ran up on stage. Uggh.
Which of the four did I pay attention to (or do I plan to pay attention to) this weekend: the Super Bowl, Valentine’s Day, my mom’s birthday, or an anniversary?
This Wednesday is the first anniversary of Cat Lawyer! I love Cat Lawyer so much that I felt it appropriate to give him an homage via blog.
I’m an institutionalist. I believe we’re stronger as a team - that’s dedicated to the mission - than we are siloed off.
Two years ago while preparing material for our homegroup leaders, I came across a word study that shifted my thinking, or at least readjusted my focus: “Created for good works…so that we would walk in them”, (Eph.2:10). The word “walk” in the Greek does not imply the simple straight line from point A to point B, but has a more spherical quality.
I live in suburban America. Here in suburbia, we have companies that come to our houses on a weekly basis and take our trash away. It’s wonderful. Until the week before Christmas, when the magic stopped. The garbage workers went on strike. Womp womp.
Last night, we ditched our Sunday night prayer meeting, packed up Silas, and drove 98 miles to see a commissioning service at Celebration Church. One of their pastors and his wife will be returning to Cambodia to share the good news of Jesus with the people of Cambodia who have not yet heard His name.
Why start a blog? Here is a list of questions that I asked myself before starting this.
Kylene Lopo
Kylene Lopo is a pastor’s wife, a BI Reports Developer, and is the mother of Silas (age 4) and Hosanna (age 0.) She has a masters in Biblical Literature from Alliance Theological Seminary and is an official worker with the C&MA in the South Pacific District.