Spiritual Sunday
Today being Palm Sunday, I share two Palm Sunday poems that I’ve written about before, one by contemporary poet Lucille Clifton, one by 17th century metaphysical poet Henry Vaughan. Since both poets love nature, it stands to reason that they would both emphasize the vegetation imagery.
Here’s today’s reading:
When he had come near Bethphage and Bethany, at the place called the Mount of Olives, he sent two of the disciples, saying, “Go into the village ahead of you, and as you enter it you will find tied there a colt that has never been ridden. Untie it and bring it here. If anyone asks you, ‘Why are you untying it?’ just say this, ‘The Lord needs it.'” So those who were sent departed and found it as he had told them. As they were untying the colt, its owners asked them, “Why are you untying the colt?” They said, “The Lord needs it.” Then they brought it to Jesus; and after throwing their cloaks on the colt, they set Jesus on it. As he rode along, people kept spreading their cloaks on the road. As he was now approaching the path down from the Mount of Olives, the whole multitude of the disciples began to praise God joyfully with a loud voice for all the deeds of power that they had seen, saying,
“Blessed is the king
who comes in the name of the Lord!Peace in heaven,
and glory in the highest heaven!”Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to him, “Teacher, order your disciples to stop.” He answered, “I tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout out.” (Luke 19:27-40)
Clifton retells the story using traditional African American imagery. I love how she refers to Jesus as “the brother”:
palm sunday
so here come i
home again
and the people glad
giving thanks
glorying in the brother
laying turnips
for the mule to walk on
waving beets
and collards in the air
For his part, Vaughan calls upon palm trees to lend him their shades and freshness, just as Jesus’s followers turned to palms to express their joy upon his entry into Jerusalem.
It is clear that the poet is really addressing himself as he addresses the “trees, flowers & herbs; birds, beasts & stones” that have been groaning since man’s fall. After all, it is only humans that groan. Seeing himself as a “humble flower,” he says that today is the day for such flowers to leave their fields and secret groves to come and join in the joyful celebration.
Incidentally, the unexpected inclusion of “stones” in his list refers to the rebuke of the pharisees that concludes today’s passage. When they complain about the multitude celebrating Jesus as “the king who comes in the name of the Lord!”, Jesus replies, “I tell you, if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out.” As Vaughan sees it, he is called upon to cry out in joy with the rest of creation.
Still struggling to be joyous, however, he then he tells the plants/himself to take inspiration from the children who cried “Hosannah” as they strewed the palms. I have no doubt that Wordsworth had this stanza in mind when he wrote about the shepherd boy in Intimations of Immortality, and the comparison is clarifying. Just as Vaughan is fighting against gloom, a depressed Wordsworth feels himself rebuked by the happy shouts of the boy:
Thou Child of Joy,
Shout round me, let me hear thy shouts,
thou happy Shepherd-boy.Ye blessèd creatures, I have heard the call
Ye to each other make; I see
The heavens laugh with you in your jubilee;
My heart is at your festival,
My head hath its coronal,
The fulness of your bliss, I feel—I feel it all.
Oh evil day! if I were sullen
While Earth herself is adorning,
This sweet May-morning,
And the Children are culling
On every side,
In a thousand valleys far and wide,
Fresh flowers…
An image of joy is not enough to entirely lift Vaughan out of his dark thoughts, however. He also needs an image of sacrifice. His attention therefore turns from the children to the ass that bore Jesus, and he wishes that he were that derided beast of burden. He resolves to be as meek as the ass, as the children, and as the palm fronds over which Jesus rides. Then it will not matter whether he bears the sorrows of Job.
In the lovely final line, he combines an image of life with an image of purity. All that matters, he says, is that he secure “but one green branch and a white robe.”
Palm Sunday
By Henry Vaughan
Come, drop your branches, strew the way
Plants of the day!
Whom sufferings make most green and gay.
The king of grief, the man of sorrow
Weeping still, like the wet morrow,
Your shades and freshness comes to borrow.
Put on, put on your best array;
Let the joy’d road make holiday,
And flowers that into fields do stray,
Or secret groves, keep the highway.
Trees, flowers & herbs; birds, beasts & stones,
That since man fell, expect with groans
To see the lamb, which all at once,
Lift up your heads and leave your moans!
For here comes he
Whose death will be
Man’s life, and your full liberty.
Hark! how the children shrill and high
“Hosanna” cry,
Their joys provoke the distant sky,
Where thrones and Seraphim reply,
And their own Angels shine and sing
In a bright ring:
Such young, sweet mirth
Makes heaven and earth
Join in a joyful symphony,
The harmless, young and happy ass,
Seen long before this came to pass,
Is in these joys a high partaker
Ordained, and made to bear his Maker.
Dear feast of palms, of flowers and dew!
Whose fruitful dawn sheds hopes and lights;
Thy bright solemnities did show,
The third glad day through two sad nights.
I’ll get me up before the sun,
I’ll cut me boughs off many a tree,
And all alone full early run
To gather flowers to welcome thee.
Then like the palm, though wrong, I’ll bear,
I will be still a child, still meek
As the poor ass, which the proud jeer,
And only my dear Jesus seek.
If I lose all, and must endure.
The proverb’d griefs of holy Job,
I care not, so I may secure
But one green branch and a white robe.
