Ride on, ride on in majesty! Hark! all the tribes hosanna cry…
Henry Hart Milman, 1827
Palm Sunday begins not with thunder or judgment, but with singing. From the dusty roads of Jerusalem to our sanctuaries today, the voices of many echo through time—shouting “Hosanna!” and laying down palm branches before the one who comes on a donkey.
This day marks the start of Holy Week—a journey through joy, betrayal, suffering, and finally, redemption. But it starts here, in celebration and paradox.
“All glory, laud, and honor to thee, Redeemer, King…”
Theodulf of Orléans, 9th century
The celebration of Palm Sunday was for the arrival of a King. The people sang because they believed the Messiah had arrived. But He was not what they expected and all too soon they turned their backs.
Palm Sunday reminds us how quickly we can go from cheering to questioning, from trusting to doubting. One day the crowds welcomed Jesus with palm branches; within the week, many would turn away. It’s a mirror held up to our own hearts: how steadfast is our hosanna when the journey grows dark?
Yet still, Christ rides on. Into our brokenness. Into our chaos. Into our need. Not like a King with grandeur but with the love of a Saviour.
“Make way, make way, for Christ the King in splendour arrives…”
Graham Kendrick, 1986
Palm Sunday is not just remembering an event from when Jesus walked this earth. It is an invitation. An invitation not just to sing Hosanna but to follow. To walk the road with Jesus—even when the cheers fade and the cross looms.
Because beyond that cross is an empty tomb.
And beyond our hosannas is a hope that does not fade.
Blue Skies & Lollipops 