THE DONKEYS PERSPECTIVE OF PALM SUNDAY

The following story is inspired by Matthew's telling of the Triumphal Entry (Matthew 21:1-11)

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It was an uncharacteristically busy morning in the usually peaceful village of Bethphage. The town was situated on a hillside that people referred to as the Mount of Olives, and it overlooked the sprawling city of Jerusalem. It wasn’t much of a destination. Nobody said, “Let’s go to Bethphage for the weekend.” It was just the final rest stop for pilgrims on their way to worship at the Temple in Jerusalem. 

But for Simon the donkey, it was home.

He lived here with his mom and their owner. Simon was still young, just a colt really, though he didn’t see himself that way. After all, he was almost a year old! Why, before long his owner would be riding him into the city to get supplies, he just knew it.

But today, Simon was distracted by the number of people walking along the road, heading into Jerusalem. He asked his mother what was going on.

“That’s right, this is your first Passover,” she brayed to her son. “Every year at this time, people head into the city for a great feast to celebrate the time God saved His people. It must be that time again.”

Simon grew excited. He’d heard of the Passover, the greatest feast day of the year, but this was his first time getting to experience it firsthand. In his curiosity, Simon began to wander towards the road so he could watch the pilgrims passing by. As he drew closer, he began to overhear bits of their conversations, and all of them seemed to be talking about the same thing: apparently some Rabbi named Jesus had raised a guy from the dead one village over. That must have been quite a sight. Simon wished he could have been there to see that. In his excitement to hear more, he began to follow a group of pilgrims down the road eavesdropping on their conversation as they went.

Suddenly, he heard the gruff voice of his master behind him. “There you are, you naughty donkey.” 

Busted! 

Simon hung his head in embarrassment. This wasn’t the first time he’d wandered off. But what did they expect? He was curious and the world was so much larger than his little village!

Simon’s owner led him back home, and then tied both Simon and his mother to a hitching post to ensure that the little donkey wouldn’t wander off again. Simon tried to look properly sorry for getting them both in trouble, but his mind was preoccupied with the thought a man who could raise people from the dead.

The day passed quickly with Simon lost in his thoughts, until his daydreaming was interrupted by a couple men in dusty robes who were walking down the street towards him. They must have been pilgrims, because Simon had never seen them before.

“There it is, just as the master told us,” one of the men said to the other. Then they boldly walked up to Simon and began to untie him. 

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?” Simon’s owner yelled.

“The Lord Jesus is coming and he sent us ahead to get a colt for him to ride,” one of the men replied. Surprisingly, Simon’s owner complied. Apparently, he had also heard the rumors of this Jesus, who had the power to raise the dead. He even sent Simon’s mother along in case Simon wasn’t strong enough to carry Jesus. But Simon knew he would be. He was almost a year old, after all.

The men led Simon and his mother out to the road, where a ragtag group of men and women were waiting. One of them threw a cloak over Simon’s back and then another of the pilgrims, a man who didn’t look all that different from the rest, climbed on.
This must be the Rabbi that everybody was talking about, though he didn’t look all that special to Simon.

The group began to make their way down the Mount of Olives and across the Kidron valley, heading towards one of the gates into Jerusalem. Simon and his mother were in the lead. As they drew near, crowds began to whisper, “It’s him.” “Here he comes.”
Simon was surprised that they even noticed him. After all, this was the first time he’d been out of his village.

One of the pilgrims ripped a palm frond from a nearby tree and laid it on the ground in front of Simon. Then another followed suit. Still others began to lay their cloaks down on the ground in front of him. And all the while, the crowds began to shout, “Hosanna.” “Hosanna in the Highest!” “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.” Simon didn’t know what those words meant, but he knew they were directed towards him. 

Simon was amazed at this unexpected welcome. He knew he was special - his mom had always told him so - but never in his wildest daydreams would he have expected this sort of reception! The crowd of onlookers grew larger and larger as Simon and his mother made their way into the gates of Jerusalem. Each step he took was upon a cloak or palm frond that had been laid at his feet, and all-the-while he was showered with the cries of “Hosanna!” He could get used to this.

The sun was setting as Simon and his entourage made their way into the city. When they came to the temple, Jesus promptly slid off of his back and the group of pilgrims made their way inside while Simon and his mother were led into the nicest stable he’d ever been in. 

Ok, it was the only stable he’d ever been in, but who’s keeping track. He and his mother spent the night there, though Simon barely slept– he was just too excited.

In the morning, he was up before the first rooster crowed. He couldn’t wait to bask in the adoration of the people again. 

Shortly after first light, Simon’s owner came to collect him. Simon was surprised his owner didn’t sing his praises, but perhaps he was just waiting until they got home.

As they made their way through the streets of Jerusalem and out the city gate, Simon waited to hear people shout, “Hosanna,” but the cries never came.

They crossed the Kidron Valley and began to make their way up the Mount of Olives, passing pilgrims along the way, but for some reason none of them stopped to lay a cloak or palm branch on the dusty road in front of them.

“They must not know who I am,” Simon thought to himself. “Just wait ‘til I get home! The villagers must be preparing to throw me a welcome-home party.”

But as they entered Bethphage, nobody looked up from their morning tasks.
Nobody so much as waved at him. 

Simon’s heart was filled with confusion and disappointment, but he did his best to hold it in. After all, he was almost a year old…and he was kind of a big deal.

His owner led him and his mother back to the hitching post and tied them up again. Now, maybe it was the familiarity of being home, or the indignity of being treated like a common donkey, but Simon could no longer hold his emotions in check.

He began to cry.

“What’s wrong, my son?” his mother asked.

“I don’t get it,” Simon replied, salty tears rolling down his dusty cheeks. “Yesterday, everybody loved me. Today it’s like they don’t even see me. What did I do wrong?”

His mother smiled as she comforted her son. “Oh, my child,” she whispered in his ear, “you did nothing wrong. But you misunderstood. 
It was never about you.”