An advent meditation--what exactly is a Hosanna chorus?
Dostoevsky famously wrote that his Hosanna passed through a crucible of doubt but this very phrase suggests that the word "Hosanna" has a meaning that has so greatly changed over time it is difficult to discern precisely what it is supposed to evoke. In Dostoevsky's usage the word implies some kind of praise and an absence of doubt and yet in terms of its literal meaning "Hosanna" is perhaps more poignantly pertinent in the psalms of lament and psalms requesting aid in time of war.
Hosanna means "save us" or "please save us". It has been used so often as a chorus of praise and in a particularly upbeat way that the supplicatory nature of the word can be completely lost even in in settings by a composer as masterful as Bach. The osanna is often presented as a moment of triumph already realized which can happen even in a work like Durufle's Requiem (which I adore, just so you know).
So far I'm rusty on masses these days but if you compare the setting of Osanna by Frank Martin or Bach to, say, Arvo Part's Berliner Mass you'll see that each of these three wonderful masses have spectacularly different approaches to the very concept of the word. Bach's setting reflects a confidence in the work of Christ as though it were complete (as I hear the setting). Frank Martin's Mass for Double Choir has an element of expectation to it but is fairly cheery. Part's setting is dark, lonely, and even sorrowful. Not even in Byrd's masses do you find this sort of sadness and Byrd, who had to circulate his masses under the noses of Protestant leadership, would seem to have had more reason to make a forlorn setting.
To sing Hosanna is to ask Christ to save us and for me at this time of year and with no job and uncertainty about the future and acutely aware of my capacity to sin and even my indifference to turning from discouragement, impatience, and other failings ... I find Arvo Part's setting of the text in the Berliner Mass most resonant, most poignant. Part captures the sadness and even the anger we can feel awaiting the salvation of the Lord and wishing that we were not simply stuck where we are. We are like David, acutely aware of his own sin and realizing that he fumbles over and over but anxious despite this sin to turn to what is right. I want to be like that even though I realize how often I am not like that. I know that my spirituality is essentially a sham ... and yet all our spiritualities are shams apart from Christ and within Christ they take a lifetime to become perfected by seeking the author and finisher of our faith, something I am of late not the least bit good at.
Augustine, somewhat amusingly, wrote in his Confessions that his prayer was for some time, "Lord make me chast ... but not yet." This is funny because it can be idiomatically re-presented to us as "Lord save me but don't save me yet." And how does Christ save us? Through the Cross. This is the cross He asks us to take up and carry as we follow Him, and it is the cross He takes up on our behalf. Even Christ had to have someone else carry His Cross and he was nailed to it. If Christ in His darkest hour could not carry His own physical burden of the literal cross even while He knew that that burden was to be borne for us, then He knows what it feels like to be forsaken.
Christ's life itself was a bearing of our infirmities and this for our salvation. How easily and quickly we can forget even when we tell ourselves this is the truth we live by, the story that guides our story. David forgot often, Solomon forgot often and eventually for an unusually long time. Even the best among God's people have ended in miserable failure forgetting what the Lord had urged them to remember. Samson ended in a way that was both triumphant and pathetic yet was considered a hero of the faith. Jephthah sacrificed his own daughter after making a rash vow and yet he was regarded as a hero in the faith, too, because he was a judge who executed justice on behalf of Israel.
The judges were the ones God raised up when His people cried out "save us!" These judges were all ultimately failures and the great judge had yet to come. Even when I realize that I do not want to be saved yet, like Augustine used to pray, I know that I cannot finally forget that asking the Lord to save me remains for me to bring to the Lord, a petition to not forget.
