Last year I had the chance to go to Washington, D.C. for a few days. I stayed with my good friend who lives in an old neighborhood just a couple miles from the Capital. When I got there, mid-afternoon, she was still in the middle of her work day – so I dropped my stuff at her house and set off walking. I hadn’t been to D.C. since I was a kid and I was excited to take it all in.
I saw all sorts of cool things on my walk: Frederick Douglas’ house, the Naval Academy, the Supreme Court, the Capital… It felt very much like being a kid again, in awe of all the buildings and history.
But then something happened that overshadowed it all.
Traffic patterns started changing. Within a few minutes all the cars on the street had disappeared. Other pedestrians were stopping and looking so I stopped and looked with them, becoming a part of an impromptu crowd. We looked up and down the street; as we waited, I got more curious. Then, I saw it, the source of their interest: Metro Police motorcycles and cars… a flock of vehicles with dark tinted windows… (Is this? Wait – could it be? The crowd was getting more excited!) And then: a Cadillac limo/SUV hybrid, two flags on the front…
Did I just see… ???
Who was it, do you think?
The PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES?
I think I did! I think I saw the President! I couldn’t see inside those tinted windows, but the motorcade gives it away, right? Only the President rides in that black armored Caddy with the double flags, tricked out with super-secret security. A ride fit for a king!
Do you know what that Presidential Cadillac is nicknamed? It’s a nickname with some relevance to this Palm Sunday:
“The Beast.”
Here at Central we had a beast – not a beast of a car but a beast of an animal. We met out on Church Street with our Presbyterian and Episcopalian friends – and a donkey! That donkey was to help us reenact the original Palm Sunday, where another impromptu crowd lined the streets of Jerusalem, hoping to catch a glimpse of Jesus.
They waved palm branches like flags. They laid their cloaks out like a red carpet, just like the Israelites did when Jehu was named king (2 Kings 9:13). They sang songs, hymns to praise Jesus as king: “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the LORD!” (Psalm 118:26). Then they waited for Jesus to on a vehicle fit for a first-century king: a warhorse!
But when Jesus came into view, what did they see?
A donkey.
A hee-hawing, stubborn, silly donkey.
The crowd was impromptu, but that donkey was not. The story doesn’t go, “Jesus was hoping to find a nice, respectable horse but had to settle for a donkey.” No – Jesus carefully orchestrates this. He sends two disciples ahead telling them, “Go to this specific place, talk to this specific person, get this specific animal.” That animal is “a colt that has never been ridden.” That word, “colt,” can mean a young horse or a young donkey; the gospels of Matthew and John do us the favor of specifying that, yes, a donkey is what Jesus picked for his vehicle.
A donkey.
Imagine if, when I was standing on Pennsylvania Avenue and I finally caught a glimpse of the center of that motorcade, what I saw wasn’t a tricked-out Cadillac but… I don’t know, a Ford Tarus. A 1992, couldn’t-be-more-basic Ford Taurus. You might even think it wasn’t the president, after all, but behind those un-tinted windows you see him, smiling and waving.
That’d be ridiculous, right? It’d make you want to ask, “What kind of President is this?”
Likewise, when we see the donkey in the middle of our Palm Sunday story it ought to make us ask: “What kind of king is this?”
What did the crowd think about that donkey?
What do we think?
We’ve filled this sanctuary; we’ve lined the streets! We’ve sung hosanna, made an offering! We’ve prayed the Lord’s Prayer, ending with a big, “Thine is the kingdom!” In more ways than one we’ve joined in with a crowd that’s saying, “Yes! Jesus is our King!”
We’re hungry for a king, frankly. What would you give to be able to control, right now, the next President of the United States? I don’t know about you, but I would spend money we don’t have to spend – I would sacrifice quite a bit! – to rest easy for the next eight months knowing that the right person was going to take office and lead us. That might not be an option… but as Christians, we actually do choose our ultimate leader. We choose Jesus as our King. We submit to his authority; we let him rule over us. And thank God, because I want the person in power to be as wise, as compassionate, as strong, as good as Jesus. I want to follow him. I want Jesus and only Jesus to be the one making the decisions that effect my life.
I hope you do, too.
But what about the donkey?
What does it mean that we are choosing as our king the one who chose to ride on a donkey?
Matthew and John tell us that Jesus rode on this young donkey just as it’s written in Zechariah 9:9:
“See, your king comes to you;
triumphant and victorious is he,
humble and riding on a donkey,
on a colt, the foal of a donkey.”
Our King is humble.
Our King doesn’t need a fancy vehicle – our King chooses a humble donkey.
Our King doesn’t have to associate with the right, well-connected people – our King prefers to spend his time with the people most would overlook or avoid.
Our King doesn’t choose to fight might with might. Our King turns the other cheek. Our King forgives. Our King sacrifices.
Humility isn’t thinking less of oneself – it’s more about thinking better of others, all others, and being willing to give up our own status to meet those others where they are. That’s what our King does.
And in turn: that’s the life we’re adopting, when we accept Jesus as our King. A life where we receive this amazing status – children of God! – but then live with that status just as Jesus lived with his. Humbly.
This is frightening – to choose to sacrifice and forgive and love as Jesus did. But imagine: what if all of us who serve Christ did it? What if all Christians all over the world intentionally chose a stance of humble love just as Jesus did? Don’t you think the baseline anxiety level in the world would drop – and the baseline levels of peace and love would rise?
Friends, on this Palm Sunday – don’t miss the donkey. You can’t miss the donkey, can you?! But I’m asking you to see it, to really see it – and to see our King on it.
Amen.
Prone to Wander 
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