Sunday, March 28, 2021

A Sermon About a Donkey for Asses Like Us - John 12: 12-19

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

It was just a donkey – a young one, at that. Jesus rides into the city of Jerusalem on the back of a beast of burden. Not much of a hero’s animal, is it? We might expect Him to be astride a stallion – Hi, ho, Silver! – or in a chariot pulled behind a magnificent mare. Perhaps some would have expected Him to be riding in a litter – the raised, boxed platform on long poles carried on the shoulders of slaves – used by kings. Jesus rides a donkey, instead.

Donkeys are loud, stubborn, not of great stature, and slow, plodding beasts of burden. They are the punchline of jokes and the antiheroes of stories. People who behave in a stupid, stubborn way are referred to as a three-letter synonym of donkey. In the Disney adaptation of Pinnochio, the boys turn into donkeys because they misbehave and fall into a trap. 

The English poet, philosopher and lay theologian G. K. Chesterton wrote a poem called “The Donkey.” [1]

When fishes flew and forests walked

   And figs grew upon thorn,

Some moment when the moon was blood

   Then surely I was born.

 

With monstrous head and sickening cry

   And ears like errant wings,

The devil’s walking parody

   On all four-footed things. 

And Jesus choses to ride into the city on the back of this very animal. It’s a rather strange pulpit, isn’t it? But then, again, Jesus has been in strange places before, preaching in fields, on hillsides, and in boats.

When Jesus rode into Jerusalem astride a donkey, he let us in on a secret.

“God has chosen the foolish things of the world to shame the wise, the weak things of the world to shame the strong, the base things of the world and the despised, God has chosen, the things that are not, that he might nullify the things that are, that no man should boast before God,” (1 Corinthians 1:27-29).

God choses to ride into Jerusalem on the back of a donkey.

I don’t know a lot about donkeys. I am making an assumption, here, that in some aspects they are like horses. One does not simply climb onto the back of a horse and ride it. It has to be trained, broken to the saddle. There’s a reason that the back of an untrained horse is called “the hurricane deck” – it’s going to be a rough ride until the horse settles in. I assume the same is true of a donkey. One does not just climb onto the back of a donkey – especially a young one, full of fire and brimstone – without having a series of appointments preemptively made at the chiropractor’s office.

Jesus rides a young, unbroken donkey colt. It’s as if this humble beast of burden knows Who it is riding upon his back, that he, one of the most humble pieces of creation, is carrying his Creator. He, the donkey, submits to the will of the One who, Himself, is submitting to the will of the heavenly Father. The beast of burden carries the One who carries the sins of the world. The servant of all animals serves the One who came to serve and give His life as a ransom for men.

We know that Jesus came to die for sinners. He came to rescue and redeem you and me and all of humanity. But, and this is an important “but” in light of this morning’s Gospel reading, never forget that Jesus also comes to redeem all of creation. From live oak trees suffering from oak wilt, to Texas horney toads that are slowly disappearing, from wild-fire scorched prairies to hurricane-torn oceans, from volcanoes that spew ash across thousands of square miles to earthquakes that rent the earth apart, Christ also redeems creation.

And, that includes the humble donkey upon which He rode into Jerusalem. Jesus is carried by one for whom He will carry the cross.

As Jesus enters Jerusalem on the back of a donkey, He is surrounded by asses, all braying their shouts of “Hosanna: save us!” The Jewish leaders don’t get the fuss. The crowd thinks of Him only as a glorified physician who can raise the dead. The disciples don’t yet understand or believe the purpose of the cross. The Romans don’t care who He is, as long as He doesn’t cause a riot. But the donkey cares. He is carrying Jesus, Son of David, Son of God. He is heading to the cross. At the cross, Jesus is Messiah, the Christ, the Savior, the Son of God who fulfills all of the promises of God. In his book, A Glorious Dark, A. J. Swoboda notes the irony. “Jesus, the Savior of humankind, rides awkwardly on a plodding donkey to a prepared spot where he’d soon die for a whole wide world of asses. Jesus rides upon the thing he’d soon die for.” Jesus dies for donkeys like the one who carried Him; He dies for asses like you and me. 

If you look at the back of a donkey, there’s a dark line that runs down his spine. It meets a dark line that runs laterally across the shoulders. From the side, it’s hardly noticeable, but from the top down you’ll see that those lines form a cross. There is a legend – please hear that word, like Paul Bunyon and George Washington’s cherry tree speech – there’s a legend that the cross appeared on the donkey after he carried Jesus into Jerusalem. If you look on a donkey’s back, to this day, they are thus marked for the honor he had in carrying the Master. Whether true or not, it remains true that the only one who recognized Jesus for Who He is has the God of Creation sitting on his back.

The tattered outlaw of the earth,

   Of ancient crooked will;

Starve, scourge, deride me: I am dumb,

   I keep my secret still.

 

Fools! For I also had my hour;

   One far fierce hour and sweet:

There was a shout about my ears,

   And palms before my feet.[2]

The donkey is the faithful preacher, preaching to us in silence. But, he carries us where we also need to be this Palm Sunday, entering Holy Week just as Jesus entered into Jerusalem. The donkey takes Jesus towards the cross. With his head, and with the mark on his back, the donkey points us where we need to be: the cross. That’s where we see Jesus.

 

 



[1] https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/47918/the-donkey

[2] ibid


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