What is the first thing that comes to your mind when you think of Palm Sunday? I promise this is not a trick question, but I am assuming that most of you immediately thought, “well palms. Duh, Vicar Karla. It is Palm Sunday.” We think of the triumph of yelling “Hosanna” as we process and parade through the church, often led by children, shouting for joy at the coming of Christ to Jerusalem.
Maybe you think of the prominent juxtaposition of today’s seemingly joyful parade with the journey to the cross we will very soon take with Jesus as we go toward Good Friday and Jesus’ crucifixion.
These are certainly logical and worthy responses. And, for me, the first thing that comes to mind when I think of Palm Sunday is always a rickety donkey that may not make it the entire way down the aisle. The church I grew up in had this old donkey that I always think of. How all of us kids would argue about who would get to walk the donkey during the procession each year. Heaven forbid someone actually ride it because I kid you not, the fear was that the thing would fall apart if you just looked at it the wrong way.
So because of this image, today, my first time preaching on Palm Sunday, I was immediately drawn to the narrative about the donkey as I read today’s gospel lesson from Luke. All of the language about the donkey caught my attention because I always so strongly associate Palm Sunday with the wooden donkey that I am very confident was rolled out at Salem Lutheran in St. Cloud this morning.
After moving beyond the donkey, I am struck that the other components of the things we associate with Palm Sunday, namely the palms and the shouting of Hosanna are nowhere to be found in today’s readings from Luke. It is in the other gospel readings depicting today that we are shown that. In today’s reading, it is cloaks that are laid down for Jesus to both sit upon and for the donkey to walk upon.
So, if we don’t have the hosannas and the palms tying today’s gospel to the rest of the gospels, what do we have? The donkey. We have the donkey which is the unifyer between all of these narratives.
And to be clear, there is something pretty profound about the donkey. Where we might expect a war horse or a parade fit for the Roman military of the time, instead Jesus rides into Jerusalem riding on a lowly donkey. This is a prominent example of a place where we anticipate kingly grandeur and are instead given humility and camaraderie with the poor and the lowly.
We live in a world where we laud the wealthy, the famous. Those who have the money, the power, the influence make the rules, the orders. We don’t look to the poor- the houseless, the sick, the refugee, the poor, the outcast to hold the power in society. The same would have been true in Jesus’ time. Where a large, imposing war horse would have been expected, Jesus comes in on a donkey. We do everything we can to try to get Jesus to fit the narrative of power and might we have built in our head that we fail to remember that Jesus told us where he would always be- with the poor, the outcast, the stranger. Jesus doesn’t spend his short time on Earth with the powerful. He seeks out the sinners, the tax collectors, those pushed aside to the furthest corners of society’s margins.
And with all this in mind, I can’t help but think that it is fitting that the first thing that comes to my mind when I think of Palm Sunday is that decrepit donkey. Because, even though Jesus stipulates that the donkey he would ride into Jerusalem would be a colt never ridden before, there is something striking about my image of this donkey from my childhood that has clearly seen better days. Because Jesus prioritized those whose current days were not their best. Jesus prioritized those who were deep into the hardest, most gritty days of their lives.
There are many juxtapositions present in Palm Sunday. Where we lay down our cloaks and welcome Jesus to Jerusalem today, we remember that in only a few short days from now, he will be crucified, murdered as a sacrifice, but also because he was so subversive in the way he dared to speak out against the mistreatment of the marginalized that the powers that be were so threatened they put him to death.
In a few short days, where today we gather to welcome and celebrate, we will soon gather to condemn and to turn away, to deny.
Palm Sunday sets the stage for what is to come. Palm Sunday reminds us that Jesus draws near to us in our most challenging days. The days where we might just feel like that rickety donkey utilized at my home church.
And even on those hard, gritty days, Jesus still draws us near.
Vicar Karla Leitzman