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Save Us!                        Mark 11: 1-11                   Palm Sunday 2009

I learned a new word this week. I love it when that happens. I first saw it as I was reading an op-ed article by of one of my favorite columnists, Maureen Dowd. "As President Obama renegotiates the terms of American leadership this week in Europe," Maureen wrote, "those of us left at home struggle to get over our affluenza." Affluenza. I thought . . . what a great word.

Maureen must have known that many of her readers wouldn't know the meaning of affluenza, because right after she uses it for the first time she defines it. She says it's "a painful, contagious, socially transmitted condition of overload, debt, anxiety and waste resulting from the dogged pursuit of more."

As you might expect, my curiosity kicked into high gear when I read that, so I looked further. An even better definition of the word, I discovered, can be found in the on-line encyclopedia, Wikipedia. The Wikipedia definition of affluenza is "An epidemic of stress, overwork, waste and indebtedness caused by the pursuit of the American Dream."

My research also revealed that Affluenza is not a new word at all. A PBS movie released more than a decade ago bears that name. A sequel called "Escape from Affluenza" was released a year later and, more recently, several books have been published with catchy titles like Affluenza: The All-consuming Epidemic, Affluenza: The Secret of Being Successful and Affluenza: When Too Much is Never Enough.

My reading also uncovered the work of Oliver James, a popular British psychologist who is something of a crusader about the problem of affluenza. He believes that higher rates of mental disorder can be directly connected to excessive seeking of wealth in consumerist nations. Even the World Health Organization confirms this notion, he argues, when it reports that English-speaking nations have twice as much mental illness as mainland Europe.

In other words, our Anglo-American preoccupation with material possessions and our tendency to pursue wants rather than needs is driving us crazy - literally. It creates an inner emptiness, a constant hunger for more.

"Why do so many more people want what they haven't got and want to be someone they're not," asks James, "despite being richer and freer from traditional restraints?"

James believes the core of the problem is advertising and marketing, and he cites research that shows that for half a century the spending per capita of on advertising has been four times greater in America than in mainland Europe, and twice as great as the UK.

It seems to me that this suggests an overly simplistic cause, but it's hard to dispute the effect. Most of us would agree, I think. We are, as a culture, afflicted with stress, overwork, waste and indebtedness, and that often makes us crazy.

Certainly the current state of the economy - particularly here in the United States, but around the world as well - has helped to spread our affluenza and, even worse, exaggerated its symptoms.

Little wonder, then, that the global financial meltdown has become topic number one in every means of communication known to humankind. Newspapers, television, and radio - particularly radio. People yell about it, obsess over it and, most importantly, long to be delivered from its grasp.

I can't think of another time in my lifetime that we were more in need of a savior.

I suspect that the people who lined the street on the day Jesus entered Jerusalem felt pretty much that same way. The Roman army was occupying their country. Life was miserable. Undoubtedly, the daily experience of oppression and the constant fear of bodily harm was topic number one in Jewish households.

And in much the same way that radio talk-show hosts, bloggers and newspaper columnists fan the flames of fear and discontent today, in the First Century, rabble-rousers called zealots stirred up as much anger as possible.

So the people, then, as now, were longing for a savior. And just as we did this morning, they greeted the one who they believed would save them with cries of "Hosanna!"

Hosanna. Now there's another great word. My guess is that none of us ever uses it in an everyday conversation, and it rarely comes up in our worship. We used it a lot this morning, but if you're like me, the last time you spoke or sang the word "hosanna" was nearly five months ago on the first Sunday of Advent - the other time that wonderful chorus is part of our liturgy.

Hosanna is a peculiar word. One that is difficult to define. Scholars' best guess is that it's a contraction of two Hebrew terms, one meaning to save or deliver, and the other meaning to ask or pray. So if the crowd, that day, had been speaking English, they would have cried, "Save us! Save us, we pray!" as they tossed branches from the nearby trees to the ground and looked at the one who was rumored to be the Messiah.

The whole meaning of Palm Sunday, for us today and for the people then, hangs on those two words - on that simple plea. Save us! Save us, God! Now more than ever.

The people who lined the streets on the road to Jerusalem wanted Jesus to save them. And they defined that salvation as freedom from the occupying Roman army.

"Save us," they cried, but Jesus did not save them in the way they had hoped. He did not take up a sword and send the Romans fleeing. Instead, he left the crowd and had supper with his friends, telling them he was about to die, and then went and prayed in a garden.

It only took a few days for the people in the crowd to switch from crying "Hosanna" to crying, "crucify him" instead. When they found out that Jesus was not going to save them from the Romans, their euphoria quickly vanished.

The parallels to the present day are striking. This is the time of year when churches are full - there's a nice crowd here this morning, and next Sunday it will be even bigger. And just as the Jerusalem crowd gathered to cry "Hosanna!" to the Jesus they believed would save them, we, along with Christians around the world, repeat the same plea today: "Hosanna! Save us!" we sing.

But from what, exactly, do we expect to be saved?

"Save me from loneliness," some would say. Others might cry out, "save me from cancer, or whatever illness threatens to strike me down." Still others might seek salvation from depression, debt, or family trouble. Even more might cry, "save me, God, save me from my fears. Save me from my brokenness and make me whole."

Can we expect salvation from the current wave of affluenza? From the stress, overwork, waste and indebtedness that makes us crazy?

That British psychologist I mentioned earlier, Oliver James, suggests that the cure for affluenza is cutting down on having, so we can focus on being.

Jesus would agree. In fact, cutting down on having so we can focus on being sounds just like the warning Jesus gave to his disciples: "Be careful not to gain the whole world and lose your soul," he told them.

Both the teachings of Jesus and the example of Jesus' life suggest a way out of our current malaise. They suggest that we, the people who call ourselves Christians, if we faithfully follow our Savior's lead, can put our affluenza behind us forever.

Our closing hymn on this Palm Sunday is the traditional "Lead On O King Eternal, the Day of March has Co. . ."

Before we sing that hymn, please listen to the words of another song.

It's a song that was written by a Shaker Elder a long time ago - long before the coining of the word "affluenza," but it suggests a mindset that might just be the one we need to adopt, this year, as we walk with Jesus along his Passion Week journey.

"Tis the gift to be simple," the hymn begins,
"'tis the gift to be free,
'tis the gift to come down where you ought to be,
And when we find ourselves in the place just right,
It will be in the valley of love and delight.
When true simplicity is gained,
To bow and to bend we shan't be ashamed.
To turn, turn will be our delight,
'Til by turning, turning we come round right"

                                                                             AMEN

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