Grace and Peace to you.
Rejoice greatly, O daughter Zion!
Shout aloud, O daughter Jerusalem!
Lo, your king comes to you;
triumphant and victorious is he,
humble and riding on a donkey,
on a colt, the foal of a donkey.
Here comes Palm Sunday.
We will wave our palm branches for Jesus,
our King, our Savior, riding on a….
really, a donkey?
Yes, in the tradition of the ancient prophets,
Jesus mocks our love of domination.
The ruler of the word comes riding a tricycle.
It’s not just a gesture. He means this.
He will mock our pompous judgments,
mock our unblinking trust in violence,
catch us taking ourselves so seriously.
He will not fall for our adulation.
He makes foolish our wisdom, overturns
power and sovereignty. Look how he turns
the world upside down and confused
and afraid we hang on, waving palms.
This is how he will be our king.
He will give away his last meal.
He will be humiliated, be wrong and and weak,
for our sake he will be what we hate the most.
Because he can.
Because he is greater than all that.
Because none of that matters.
He will show us how little it matters.
Ride a donkey through our pride.
Wash our fickle, kicking feet.
Die of our own embarrassment.
And count to three.
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