This Sunday churches across the globe will celebrate Jesus's Triumphal Entry into Jerusalem for the Passover Feast, better known as "Palm Sunday."
Images surface in our minds and on church bulletins and religious literature of a reposeful Jesus sitting side saddle on a lowly donkey riding calmly through the sandy streets of the city as people lay down their cloaks before him, waving palm branches and shouting, "Hosanna!"
The scene mimics almost in a satirical fashion the victory parade of an ancient war hero or king, returning from battle and riding victoriously through the throngs of praising people, mounted high upon a strong and composed stallion.
Only Jesus isn't riding on a horse. Oh, but hold your horses, because one day he will.
What is striking to me as I reread the above scriptures and what I most certainly overlooked in past readings, is that before Jesus's triumphal entry, he gives these laughable instructions to his disciples: get a donkey, a colt, a young one - one that has never been driven on.
Only Jesus wasn't laughing.
As a farmer, I've seen many a donkey and owned one in fact. And trust me, you don't just throw a blanket or coat over the back of a young, untrained jackass and think you're going to ride him, especially through a crowded city of screaming people. Unbroken? No sir. Not unless you enjoy grit and pebbles shoved up your nose.
However Matthew takes this scenario an outrageous step further by given us an additional, more revealing and potentially dangerous piece of information:
Jesus speaking: "Go into the village in front of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her. Untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, you shall say, 'The Lord needs them,' and he will send them at once." This took place to fulfill what was spoken by the prophet saying, "Say to the daughter of Zion, 'Behold your king is coming to you, humble and mounted on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a beast of burden.'" ( Matthew 21:2 - 5 ) ( Zechariah 9:9 ) ESV
Uh oh, now Jesus not only has an untamed, unridden baby donkey to deal with, but he also has his overprotective, helicopter mom to boot.
Jesus never seems to do anything the easy way.
Years back when we had problems with predators stalking and attacking our livestock here at Healing Brook, several neighbors encouraged us to quickly obtain a donkey. They assured us he would protect the flock and the herds.
Only he didn't, and I just recently learned why.
It's actually a great story that eventually steered us to our Great Pyrenees livestock guardian dogs, but the short version is that a year ago when my vet was making her farm rounds, I began to recount the story to her as she examined and vaccinated the animals.
During my animated retelling of the adventure, she stood up from checking the dogs' teeth and squinted her eyes in the bright sunshine.
"Wait, did you have a jack?"
"Yeah, and all he did was jump the fence to visit the neighbor's mares. This, when he wasn't stealing the Farmer's building tools or trying to stomp a poor box turtle to death."
"No, you needed a female donkey, a jenny," she said, "And better yet, one with a colt. She wouldn't have put up with any coyotes or funny business. She would have guarded this farm for you."
Sometimes we overlook the greatest miracles.
You see, donkeys, like Great Pyrenees are not so much stubborn as they are independent natured and fearful. They like to think things through before they act. They need a trainer to come alongside of them to be gentle and firm all at the same time, with patience and a positive attitude and a loving, reassuring caress.
Under these conditions of discipline and instruction, after much care, they can be quite useful to mankind in a number of ways, once the spirit breaks and is reshaped for good.
Much I suppose like a husband and expectant father knew long ago as he helped his young, pregnant wife unto the back of his faithful donkey for the long journey that lay ahead of them to his hometown of Bethlehem.
Isn't it interesting that the Son of God would choose a young donkey to ride upon at the beginning and at the end of his earthly life? Not a handsome, stately steed as the proud kings of this world, ancient and modern, choose to sit upon, strutting along the streets, or down the newsfeed, for that matter, desiring crowds to bow to their quest for power and hail them as victors and heroes.
Jesus didn't need to come sweeping in on a resplendent stallion. He created the stallion.
Jesus wasn't that kind of a king.
Jesus rode to claim that he would conquer what no earthly king could ever hope to conquer for his people: Death.
Jesus rode to offer his people the exquisite gift of true freedom, the liberty no earthly king's shed blood could ever obtain on the battlefield, no matter how valiantly he fought: Salvation.
Jesus rode to secure a life no earthly king or government could ever promise for their constituents: Happily Resurrected Ever After In the Presence of the God of Creation, His Holy Spirit, and King Jesus Himself.
On the back of a baby donkey.
True, he also comes in holy anger. Hurling over furniture with whips and rebukes, lashing out at the money changers and the self-righteous religious leaders, his reprimands are aimed at those who audaciously abuse and take advantage of the poor and needy right in his Father's house.
They are so blind to see that his salvation comes through weakness, not strength. It comes to those willing to dismount from their high horses. It comes to the sinner, the destitute, the addict, the humble, the impoverished in spirit, the lowly in heart.
His salvation is received as a child, not as a grown-up.
"Jesus, save me! Hosanna!"
And he did save us, on the cross and out of the tomb.
I'm not a betting woman, but I would be willing to bet the farm that the instant that baby donkey and his protective mama came into the presence of their Creator and Master that a flood of peace calmed their bodies, melting away their fears. I bet they submitted not only to his Lordship, but to his will.
And I just bet on that first Palm Sunday, on the eve of the Passover, right there in the dusty streets of Palestine with all of the commotion, as Roman soldiers attempted to keep order and as town-folk began gathering and waving their palm branches and shouting praises, I bet that as Jesus's disciples lifted him onto the back of that untried colt that they did not experienced a single buck or hee-haw.
I believe those unbroken, waywardly animal hearts were more than willing to humble themselves under the weight of such glory.
Are we?
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| Our donkey, Little Bit with a couple of precious visitors. |