Palm Sunday Sounds

"They pluck their palm branches and hail Him

   as King,

 Early on Sunday;

They spread out their garments; hosanna 

   they sing,

Early on Sunday,

But where is the noise of their

   hurrying feet,

The crown they would offer,

   the scepter, the seat?

Their King wanders hungry,

   forgot in the street,

Early on Monday."

  -Edwin McNeill Poteat

Ever think about the sounds of Palm Sunday? It all began when Jesus told his disciples to go into a village. There they would find a colt that nobody had ever ridden. It was really a donkey. Not a horse. A donkey. The kind his mother must have ridden when she came to Bethlehem for the first time. Well, they found the animal and the journey began. So we have the first sound of Palm Sunday. Can you hear it? Clip-clop. Clip-clop. Clip-clop. If we identify with most of the crowd we are liable to miss the real sound here. But this is the sound of Palm Sunday. Just a man on a donkey on his way to death.

But there is a second sound that we hear on that Palm Sunday morning. The crowds lined the road. They waved palm branches and threw down their coats. Applause was everywhere and it was a wonderful day. So the gospel writers have given us the second sound of that day. Listen and you can hear it, too. In fact it is inescapable. Clap-Clap...Clap-Clap...Clap-Clap. They cheered. God knows they yelled at the top of their lungs. Surely our Lord must have been pleased with this reception. They cried: “Hosanna! Save us! Save us right now! Save us!” Clap-Clap. Clap-Clap. They wanted a King that would give them what they wanted. And of all the things that yearned for—none of them envisioned a cross. Why kind of a Messiah would that be?

Once I invited George Buttrick to preach one Sunday evening during Holy week. That evening was the second time he had preached that day and he was 82 years old. He chose the text: When Jesus hung on the cross, he could have had a legion of angels to release him but he did not. Now that was real power. Even after all these years we don’t understand it. It never is: Clap-Clap when we come to this Jesus. It is always Clip-clop at the heart of the story.

As the week unfolded the applause grew weaker and weaker: clap…c l a p…c   l   a   p… until Mark would remember before the week ended: “they all forsook him and fled.” Let’s not miss the holy sounds of Palm Sunday: Clip-clop…Clip…clop. For you see if we opt for Clap…Clap we will really will miss Palm Sunday.