Everybody wants Jesus on Palm Sunday. Everybody.

• The crowd wants him to bring a new era to Israel.
• His followers want him to be recognized, step into the limelight.
• Pacifists want him because he comes on a donkey, a sign of non-violence, that he comes in peace.
• Activists want him to come and do something, like clear out the temple…which he will in a few verses.
• Conservatives want him to bring light to his power and divinity, to step into his Messiahship.
• Liberals want him to underscore his humanity, his life.

And so Jesus comes: pleasing no one completely, and encompassing every one.

God Incarnate….riding on a donkey. Lifted up…and lowered down.

God’s Son!...in utter humility.

It’s the only way that Jesus comes. And it’s why perhaps we’re not sure on Palm Sunday if we come to a parade…or the start of a funeral. Why does Jesus come this way; what impression does he want to give?

Years ago when we moved from Seattle to New Jersey, we shipped all of our things on a moving truck, and then loaded up three very small children and headed off to drive across the country. One of the highlights was planned to be our stop in Chicago. I had cashed in a bunch of business travel points, and we so had two free nights to stay at the downtown Marriott Hotel.

After several days of adventure, we had to push to get to Chicago. Maybe you’ve had one of those 12 hour days with three kids in the car. And when we finally made it to Chicago, it was of course rush hour. That added an extra hour and a half.

We were exhausted. The kids were starving. Fights had broken out. Somewhere in the Dakotas, a rock had hit our windshield, so we had a huge crack all down the middle of it. It had rained, and the whole car was splattered with mud. A seat belt was hanging unnoticed out one door. There were clothes and underwear and fast food cups everywhere. I was driving in just a pair of shorts, no shirt, and a baseball hat.

When we pulled up in front of the very grand, upscale Chicago Marriott, the guys out front in their pristine uniforms and caps looked at us, and their eyes got really, really big. They must have thought the Beverly Hillbillies had been reincarnated! It wasn’t how I’d planned on arriving…not the impression I wanted to make.

What impression did Jesus intend? He goes to the Transportation Rental counter and orders up…a donkey. Turns down the fiery red chariot. Says “no” to the large white war stallion. Intentionally chooses a donkey. Earthy, plodding, stubborn. A working beast for the poor, and not much to look at or listen to. It was no accident, the first part of the story tells us that. A donkey. Donkeys were just not much to write home about.

Socrates, in fact, once speculated that those who had been gluttonous and mean in this life would have to take the form of a donkey in the next.

A Rabbinic saying from the 3rd century stated that “if Israel was worthy, the Son of Man would come to her on the clouds of heaven, but that if she were unworthy, he would ride a donkey.”

But Martin Luther in the16th century redeems the donkey for us. Luther says,

“Look at him (Jesus)!...he sits on a donkey, which is no war animal but which is ready for burdens of work that will help human beings. Thereby he shows that he does not come to terrify people, to drive or oppress them, but to help them, to carry their burdens and take them on himself.”

Everybody wants Jesus on Palm Sunday. And Jesus comes, pleasing no one completely and encompassing every one. Everyone will have him on Palm Sunday, and no one will have him on Good Friday.

If you stick with him this week, you’ll have to have him as he chooses to come:

• The kind of man he is … an unassuming one.
• The kind of king he is … a servant king.
• The kind of Messiah he is … a humble one.
• The kind of Savior he is … a suffering one.
• The kind of God he is … God on a donkey.

He comes to a parade. He comes to a funeral. He invites us to come.

Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.