St John & St Mark Church Bury

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What kind of donkey?

13 April 2025

Series: Palm Sunday

Topic: Palm Sunday

Book: Luke

What kind of donkey?

I came across a great start to a sermon about Palm Sunday recently, which I’m now going to shamelessly pinch. It asked a searching question. Was the donkey ‘a stretch-limo’ type of donkey – or was the donkey more of a get-away vehicle?’

Was Jesus deliberately presenting himself as the Messiah, coming from the Mount of Olives towards Jerusalem on a pre-booked colt at the most important time of the Jewish calendar? Or was the donkey more spur-of-the-moment, the only transport to hand, to get him away from a crowd who were rapidly getting out of control?

Maccabeus

Mostly, we tend to veer towards the first. Sermons will often tell us that Jesus is evoking the scene from 1 Kings where Solomon rides to his coronation on his father David’s mule (1 Kings 1:33)? Or of the prophet Zechariah saying: ‘Do not be afraid, daughter of Zion, look your king is approaching, sitting on the foal of a donkey.

Or they’ll remind us of the freedom fighter Judas Maccabeus, who at one point defeats his enemy and comes back to Jerusalem amidst joy and cheers (1 Mac 5:45-54). Another story has the crowd waving branches and palms and offering hymns of thanksgiving to Maccabeus after the Temple had been cleansed from being violated (2 Mac 10:1-8) – an event which is still celebrated today as Hanukkah, the Festival of Lights.

In today’s Gospel from Luke, Jesus certainly seems to go along with the enthusiasm of the crowd, telling the Pharisees who are complaining that the very stones will cry out if the disciples stay silent.

Playing to expectations?

So, is Jesus playing to the expectations of the crowd and deliberately setting himself up for the confrontation with the authorities that will surely come? Or is something else happening?

Because when Judas Maccabeus came into Jerusalem it was on a warhorse not a donkey. And he came through the Western Gate, the largest in the city. And our story today is during Passover, when Jerusalem was already crowded. Passover was when the nation remembered deliverance from oppression in Egypt. And just so the population didn’t get any ideas about getting rid of a new oppressor, the Roman Governor of the day, who knew his history, would parade into Jerusalem, through that very same Western Gate. He too would be on a warhorse, in armour, with his troops marching before and behind, holding banners.

But in contrast, Jesus came from Bethany, which is to the East, not the West. And, so, through the Eastern gate, which is much smaller, more discrete. And he’s on a donkey, not a warhorse. And if he did come in on the same day as the Roman Governor, Pilate, then most of the crowd would be on the other side of the city.

Then if you read our Palm Sunday account in Luke again, you’ll notice one glaring omission. No palms. Maccabeus had Palms, but in Luke, at least, there are none for Jesus. It should be Cloak Sunday, not Palm Sunday.

A get-away donkey

And if you read John’s version, Jesus is already in the crowd and seems to grab the nearest donkey to hand, getting on it only in response to the people getting a bit boisterous. A get-away donkey, not a pre-booked Uber-donkey. John’s Jesus comes in peace. He’s a king “but not of this world”, as he later tells Pilate.

And even in Mark’s pre-arranged version, there’s rather an anti-climax as he rides through the crowd, finally gets to the Temple, looks around, decides it’s got late – then turns around and quietly goes out of the city and all the way back to where he started.

Alternatives

In Yann Martel’s Life of Pi the author ends with 2 alternative explanations and you are asked to choose the one you prefer. And our Gospels seem to do the same. Which donkey do you prefer? The limo or the get-away? Everything pre-planned by a Jesus who embraces his destiny and inevitable execution, perhaps even provokes it – or one who makes a last attempt to subvert the expectations of the crowd and convince them that he’s not a military rebel leader ready to take on the might of Rome? It might be worth thinking about which version we prefer, and which challenges us more. To ask ourselves how confident we are that we know what it means to confess Jesus as ‘The Christ’? To know what it means to sing, ‘Hosanna to the Son of David!’

Assumptions

As we follow him through Holy Week, we may question our assumptions about power and vulnerability and brokenness and what it means to follow the Messiah. I’ve been in a busy Jerusalem and maybe some of you have too? Its narrow streets, tall stone buildings, twisting alleyways leading to the top of the city. Lots of people, colour and noise. And that was just a normal day, not a festival. And it makes me wonder about other aspects of the story as you compare the versions within the Gospels. Was Jesus really the centre of all the attention – or was he just another pilgrim with only the disciples making a fuss? Is Jesus riding into Jerusalem almost under-cover, incognito? Amongst a crowd already there, their palms waving but to celebrate Passover. Was Jesus a Messiah hidden in plain sight? Indeed, were most of the crowd looking the other way at Pilate rather than Jesus?

Looking elsewhere

And you may think that might be a bit of a stretch, but how often does Jesus ride through our lives, and we miss him because we’re looking elsewhere – following a different parade or distracted by everything else that’s going on? Perhaps we should be paying more attention and looking around at what’s happening. Where is Jesus, and where is he going? At the start of Holy Week, which Christ do you lean towards? The one who is the centre of attention or the one who quietly makes his way in. As his hands and his feet on earth now, most of us go about doing his work without fanfare. We don’t expect or want people to sing our praises – we want people to think about God’s Kingdom. To be fellow pilgrims with us. It’s often in quiet, humble service that Christ is at work. It’s in the selfless, understated giving of the time and talents of people who can slip through a crowd unnoticed. So, maybe many of us like a more modest Jesus.

Blowing the doors off

But… that same Jesus is the one who goes to the Temple and unexpectedly turns everything upside down, including the tables and chairs. I wonder which of our metaphorical tables and chairs he would over-turn now? Because God also needs those radical people amongst us who aren’t happy with ‘normal’.  He also needs the people who can unsettle, provoke and unnerve. People who, in the immortal words of Michael Caine, can ‘blow the bloody doors off’! Which, of course, is exactly what Jesus does… a week from now. Are we being called to be more radical? To be more vocal, to stand up for something, even if everyone else looks-on? To shatter or exceed expectations? How should we respond to a table-turning Jesus? But before the door of the tomb is blown off on Easter Day, we have Maundy Thursday and Good Friday and awkward Saturday. If you follow Jesus’ parade, then you have to go there first. To the washing of feet and breaking of bread. To the night that follows where he is betrayed, abandoned and denied. To his cross and his death. Many of us have had a tough few years. Most of us have suffered loss or felt vulnerable at some time and may still feel like that now. Today, as much as ever, we need to hear the story of how God became completely vulnerable for us in Jesus Christ – of how both despair and hope can ride together. Whether we prefer a limo-style donkey or a get-away donkey, whether we lean towards confrontation or modesty, we need to choose to follow Jesus, who has travelled this road before us. Because it’s in his company that pain turns to praise – and, as we see next week, death gloriously becomes life. Hosannah! Amen ‘What kind of donkey?’ was delivered by Ian Banks at St Margaret’s, Heywood on Palm Sunday, April 13th 2025. It was based on Luke 19:28-40

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