Thomas Weelkes was a noted composer of the madrigal, a secular, a cappella form of vocal music which rose to popularity in the 17^th century. These kinds of pieces were colorful representations of life itself. The composers tried to encapsulate real life – sounds of love, heartache, and struggle. They were an attempt to unpack what it means to be a human. The music highlighted pain, suffering, and the longing of unrequited love and desire. Weelkes had first-hand knowledge of struggle. It’s reported that he often got into trouble for too much drinking, having been dismissed in various church positions for showing up drunk. As comedic as that might sound, those of you who struggle with addictions know first-hand how difficult they can make one’s existence.

What I hear in his glorious setting of Hosanna to the Son of David, which is very much like a madrigal, is a complex unfolding of Palm Sunday’s meaning. The fanfare-like beginning, juxtaposed with the jagged edges of complex rhythms are combined with ominous, minor tonalities that ultimately culminate in a victorious ending. Pay particular attention to how the music goes back and forth from being crystal clear to seeming cacophonous. It’s no mistake, but an intentional representation of what Jesus was about to go through, and ultimately what He would walk away from.

In many ways, we all go through unbearable suffering. There are always jagged edges to being a human, treacherous circumstances that seem to burn up the rough edges of who we are. But without that refiner’s fire, we could never see the better days that are ahead. Hosanna to the Son of David, with its declamatory beginning, abruptly turns to the darkness. The ominous quality of the outset makes the forecast look dismal. But somehow, by listening in between the notes, we know better than that.

If your own suffering is the end of your story, then you’ve haven’t read ahead in the “assignments.” If you listen carefully to this music, you’ll hear the real forecast. Sure, the refiner’s fire is at work, but it’s making the crooked places straight. That’s what the story is really about, after all. You’ll hear the thunder roar, and hear the music sinking into the valley. But that’s not the destination, that’s just a waypoint. If you read ahead, you’ll know nothing can stop you, if you are here today, reading this sentence – it’s not over, yet. No matter what you’re going through, there will always be a way out. That’s what Palm Sunday is about, it’s knowing that even if something is ominous, it’s only because there hasn’t been a solution, yet. The truth is that the refiner’s fire is still working, and it just needs more time. Eventually, you’ll come out purer, stronger, more resilient, more loving, and ultimately more victorious. Christ was the example. There are dark days ahead during Holy Week. But we know how it “ends,” that the world is without end, so to speak. So go on, look ahead, it’s not cheating to read the final chapter, before it gets here. It will at least help you stay at ease when you’re going through the rough places. Soli deo Gloria!