"Making an Entrance"
- Dr. Todd R. Wright
- 2 days ago
- 5 min read
Jesus knew what he was doing when he crafted his entrance; he knew what he was communicating. He was sending a message about the kind of king he was.
![[1] “Christ Upon the Donkey for the Palm Procession”, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN](https://static.wixstatic.com/media/ff6591_9a6441f40d284de486b3f0f1fca70893~mv2.jpg/v1/fill/w_358,h_647,al_c,q_80,enc_avif,quality_auto/ff6591_9a6441f40d284de486b3f0f1fca70893~mv2.jpg)
Luke 19:28-40
April 13, 2025
Dr. Todd R. Wright
Years ago, I waited with over a thousand youth from all over the country for the keynote speaker to address the Montreat Youth Conference. Suddenly the buzz of the crowd was overwhelmed by the deep rumble of a Harley-Davidson. The speaker zipped down the center aisle of Anderson Auditorium and screeched to a halt, she revved the engine a few times for good measure and then hopped off and strode to the podium.
She made an entrance that raised our expectations … and she didn’t disappoint!
I thought of that moment when I read Luke’s account of Jesus entering Jerusalem.
He also knew how to make an entrance! And he didn’t disappoint.
That’s why he sent a couple of disciples to round up a donkey.
He knew what the prophet Zechariah had said: “Rejoice greatly, O daughter Zion! Shout aloud, O daughter Jerusalem! See, your king comes to you; triumphant and victorious is he, humble and riding on a donkey …”
So while other kings and wanna be kings might have chosen to lead a military parade on a chariot or a prancing stallion surrounded by an army, he made a different kind of entrance.
While the speaker at Montreat wanted to communicate that she was a little edgy by entering on a Harley; Jesus was going for humble.
It’s hard not to be humble when you are riding a donkey.
In The Donkey Elegies, Nickole Brown traces “how one species hauled the stones that
built our civilizations, plowed the fields that fed generations, and carted soldiers and weapons from war to war.”[2] All of it thankless work. Humbling work.
You don’t ride a donkey if you want to impress.
You pick a donkey if you want to get the job done.
Jesus knew what he was doing when he crafted his entrance; he knew what he was communicating. He was sending a message about the kind of king he was.
In the other gospels there is a sense that the crowd doesn’t really get it. They think he is going to be a king like other kings; that he is going to overthrow the Romans and restore Israel by force! It is all they can imagine; all they can hope for.
So when they shout “Hosanna – save us!”, they are pleading for deliverance from their oppressors, directly challenging Rome and their local minions.
But Luke’s account is different.
I think he portrays the disciples as having greater understanding, to their credit!
Oh they still shout, dangerously, “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord!”
Exactly the sort of thing that would anger those who say there is no king but Caesar!
But with their next breath they say, “Peace in heaven and glory in the highest heaven!”
They are echoing the angels at Jesus’ birth. They are making the claim that the king they follow will bring peace, not violence!
It is still a challenge.
The Romans boast of the Pax Romana – “an uneasy peace achieved by force”.[3]
Instead, the disciples seek the Pax Christi, which one scholar describes as “a peace to which we are invited, but never coerced, a peace which emanates from the very heart of God, a peace that passes all human understanding.” And by demanding a different sort of peace they call into
question what Rome provides.
So even this call for a Prince of Peace makes the Pharisees nervous. They demand that Jesus silence his disciples. They are worried that even this sort of cheering will draw Rome’s wrath.
They have every right to worry.
Jesus is entering a city swollen by visitors from all over the known world there to celebrate Passover – a religious festival in which the Jews remembered how God had freed them from Egypt, the greatest military power of the time. It lent the rituals a volatile and political tone and prompted the local garrisons of soldiers to step up patrols. The crowds made them nervous.
Michael Joseph Brown writes, “The Romans distrusted associations, crowds, and gatherings such as the one we find in Jerusalem.” He then cites an example: “In his letter to Pliny the Younger, [some 75 years later] the emperor Trajan wrote, ‘When people gather together for a common purpose — whatever name we may give them and whatever function we may assign them — they soon become political [agitators].’”[4]
Put bluntly, show people enough oppression and violence; give them time and space to express their grievances and make plans; and most importantly, give them a leader who gives them hope and they will soon turn into rebels.
It has always been so – in history and in fiction. A couple of examples:
In the musical “Le Miz” one character asks, “Do you hear the people sing? Singing a song of angry men? It is the music of a people who will not be slaves again!” And later, as if in response, the crowd sings, “One day to a new beginning. Raise the flag of freedom high. Every man will be a king. There's a new world for the winning. There's a new world to be won. Do you hear the people sing?”[5]
And the Star Wars movie “Rogue One”, in response to the statement “If the empire has this kind of power, what chance do we have?” Jyn Erso replies, “Rebellions are built on hope!”
Was Jesus leading a rebellion?
That depends on who you ask.
Those in power decide that he is – that he is a threat that must be silenced.
Those who follow him will stake their lives on the fact that he has brought them hope.
Not the sort of hope that rallies the troops to take up swords, but the sort of hope that claims that God is making all things new, bringing healing to all that is broken, bringing grace to all who seek forgiveness, bringing new life to all that is dead and dying … and yes, bringing peace to a world that has far too much chaos and violence.
It has been some two thousand years and yet, somehow, we keep returning to this story.
As if we have been waiting all our lives; waiting with all our hearts …
for the one who made an entrance …
humble and lying in bands of cloth,
humble and riding on a donkey,
humble, because we do not need another conquering general or self-important ruler.
What we need is someone who will bring peace – body and soul.
What we need is to follow someone like that.
Even if that means to the cross and for the rest of our lives. Amen
[1] “Christ Upon the Donkey for the Palm Procession”, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN
[3] Here and following, from “Players and Protagonists in the Kingdom of God” by Nancy Taylor, 3/20/16
[4] From his reflections on the text for workingpreacher.org, 3/20/16
[5] From “Do You Hear the People Sing?” and “One Day More”
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