“On a Borrowed Donkey”
Mark 11:1-11
Broadway Christian Church (Disciples of Christ)
David A. Shirey
Palm Sunday: What are the sights and sounds of Palm Sunday? Palm Sunday is pageantry. It’s a parade. It’s children and adults waving palm branches like so many green flags. It’s the word "Hosanna.” Palm Sunday is a festival day—a bright trumpet fanfare before the solemn, mournful sounds that will come later this week.
Is it any wonder the church pulls out all stops on Palm Sunday? After all, the scripture at the heart of Palm Sunday is a four-exclamation mark verse. We have five-star restaurants. Palm Sunday is a four-exclamation mark Sunday. The crowds that went before him and followed him shouted, “Hosanna!” (exclamation mark) “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!” (exclamation mark) “Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David!” (exclamation mark). "Hosanna in the highest!" (exclamation mark). Four exclamation marks!
Maybe that's what brought my dad, Keith Shirey, to church on Palm Sunday. Though he rarely darkened the door of a church the rest of the year, he rarely missed a Palm Sunday. Maybe Dad was drawn to church on this day more than all the others by the spirit of aliveness and expectancy that was in the air and he wanted to be part of it. Unfortunately, aliveness and expectancy were the exception to the rule in the church where I grew up, which may be why Dad stayed away the rest of the year. On Palm Sunday, however, the excitement drew him in.
But I’ve come to the conclusion that what's really at the heart of Palm Sunday is not the four exclamation marks, but the man atop the borrowed donkey.
It seems anticlimactic, don’t you think? Four exclamation marks followed by a man on a borrowed donkey. All the preparation for the parade, the rolling out of the red carpet ("They spread their garments on the road" before him), the swell of excitement. Kids beg to get up on their parents’ shoulders. People crane their necks to see who's coming. Drum roll please! Here comes the last float in the parade … and it’s a man on a borrowed donkey. How many parades have you been to where the last float was a man on a donkey?
That explains the reaction of the crowds when Jesus arrived. Do you remember what they said once they finally laid eyes on him? In Matthew’s account, they ask, “Who is this?” (Mt. 21:10). If he was someone important, you’d think he’d have made a different entrance.
I recall as a kid being taken by the hand by my parents and told to get in the car.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“To see the President. President Nixon is coming to town and we’re taking you to see him so you’ll be able to grow up and tell people you saw the President of the United States.”
I can remember to this day – it was a big deal. We parked several blocks away, walked to Market Street, and staked out a place at the curb. It was clear to me it was a special day. Uniformed policemen standing sentinel along the route. Red, white, and blue bunting hanging from the windows of houses and businesses. Then the sound of sirens. “The President must be getting closer,” someone said. Then fire engines with their lights flashing. Sheriff’s cars. Police cars. The mayor in the back of a ‘69 Mustang convertible. Then a squadron of motorcycles followed by a bunch of black Lincoln Continentals (“Secret service,” my Dad said). Then a long black limousine went whooshing past us. If the President was in there, I sure didn’t see him. I don’t think my parents did, either. But it sure was impressive!
By contrast, what did the people in Jerusalem see that day? Four exclamation marks followed by a man on a borrowed donkey. Go figure.
We shouldn't be surprised if we stop and think about it. The fact of the matter is that Jesus borrowed everything. I'm indebted to a Methodist colleague named Robert McFarland for this insight.[1] Think about it. What did Jesus own? What belonged to him? He wasn't into personal property or investment portfolios. He didn't need an attic or a basement or a three-car garage or a rented storage unit to have enough space in which to store all his stuff. He didn't have any stuff. He borrowed everything.
Jesus borrowed the water he turned into wine and he borrowed the stone jars from which that water-come-wine was poured. He borrowed boats from which he taught. He borrowed the houses in which he ate with every manner of human being. He borrowed 5 loaves and 2 fishes from a little boy. He borrowed people's sons, brothers, and husbands to be his twelve disciples. He borrowed an upper room in somebody's house so he could have a last supper with his borrowed friends. Borrowed was the manger in which he was born, borrowed was his cross, borrowed was his tomb. Which is to say Jesus came into Jerusalem in character. Needing a ride, he borrowed a donkey. Said Jesus, "If anyone asks you, 'Why are you doing this?', say 'The Lord has need of it and will send it back here immediately'" (11:3). In other words, he was borrowing it. Jesus borrowed everything.
We're not much into borrowing, are we? If we need something, we buy our own. To go to somebody else and ask, "Hey, could I borrow your ..." Nope. Why be a nuisance? A bother. A mooch. It's easier to go buy one of your own.
Maybe Jesus borrowed everything, though, to teach us something very important. Namely, that we really do need to share with each other what we have if we're going to make it in this world. You have things I need to make my life complete and vice versa. I'm not talking about a stick of butter or a pie pan, a Phillips head screwdriver or hedge trimmer. I'm talking about borrowing one another's ears ("Do you have a moment? I need a sounding board"), eyes ("Would you take a look at this and tell me what you think?"), hands ("Would you lend me a hand?"), hearts ("I need somebody to talk to"). I think one of the reasons Jesus borrowed everything was to teach us that life is meant to be shared – borrowed back and forth. He wanted us to understand that the true sign of maturity is not that we've grown from being dependent to being independent, but that we've become interdependent. We know we can't make it on our own and that we don't need to – we can turn to others. Borrow.
Jesus borrowed everything, I tell you. And here's the bottom line: He'd like to borrow you. He'd like to borrow your life for the rest of your life. If I might borrow the words Jesus used on that first Palm Sunday: "If anyone asks you 'Why?', tell them the Lord has need of it." The Lord has need of your life. Jesus is entering Jerusalem today on a donkey prepared to go face-to-face with everything that hurts and divides and destroys and darkens life. And he's going into the fray unarmed except for the strength of spirit that he has borrowed from God. The question is: Would you lend your life to the man on the donkey so that with you and through you Jesus can fulfill God's purposes for this world? The man on the borrowed donkey would like to borrow your life.
Palm Sunday is a watershed moment in the gospels. Up to this point, Jesus is giving things away left and right – things like bread, fish, wine, and water. Things like healing and hope and forgiveness. As long as he's giving things away, the crowds line up with their hands out to receive them. But when he asks for something from them, "May I borrow your life?" – or as he put it, “Pick up your cross and come follow me,” things thin out real fast. Oh, there was a good crowd on Palm Sunday, but come Thursday of that same week, there were only twelve in the Upper Room for dinner. And by the end of that dinner, the number dropped by one to 11. By the time Jesus went out that same night to the Garden of Gethsemane, there were but three left and they fell asleep. Come Friday, he was all alone. What does it say that as long as Jesus is giving things away you can't number the crowds who line up with their hands out to receive, but the moment he asks to borrow something, someone, there's no one to be found?
Listen: Jesus didn't come into this world to wow us with exclamation marks but to woo us into lives of sacrificial service. “He emptied himself, taking the form of a servant” (Philippians 2:7). He'd like to borrow our lives for more of the same.
I hasten to add this. The Scripture says Jesus promised the guy whose donkey he borrowed that "he would send it back" (vs. 4). The same holds true for the lives he borrows. He gives them back to us. But let me tell you something. My mother always taught me that when I borrowed something, I ought to give it back in better shape than I got it. If you borrow the car, fill the tank with gas. If you borrow a pan, give it back along with some cake. If you borrow the neighbor's basketball, put some air in it before returning it. Well, God's promise as I understand it and as I've experienced it in my own life is that if we let Jesus borrow our lives – if we give our lives to God, all we have, our whole life long – God will give our lives back to us better than the way we gave them to God. Much better. Better than we can ever imagine.
Jesus comes into Columbia this morning from the east down Broadway. Nobody’s out. There’s little traffic. It’s Spring Break and it’s Sunday morning. Litter blows through downtown. He passes the Keyhole, Providence, the library at Garth, West, Shelter Gardens. He’s a man on a mission this morning. He passes through the intersection at Stadium atop his donkey, plods another ¼ mile, then sees a sanctuary on his right from which banners hang that read Broad Hearts, Broad Minds, Broad Reach. He tells those who have accompanied him, “Go into the sanctuary ahead of you and you will find some people sitting. Bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, say, “The Lord has need of you.”
Message delivered.
AMEN
[1] “A Borrower and a Lender Be,” The Christian Century, March 21-28, 1990, pp. 295-296.
