Posts Tagged ‘Zechariah’

Two donkeys? A donkey and a colt? Palm Sunday 2026

March 28, 2026

Palm Sunday – 2026

Matthew 26:14-27:66 (21:1-11)

Marian Free

In the name of God whom we label and misunderstand at our peril. Amen.

On this day, we have a surfeit of readings as we combine a Litany of the Palms with a reading of the passion – almost two chapters of Matthew’s gospel.  This was not the tradition of my childhood, when Passion Sunday (the fifth Sunday of Lent) marked the beginning of Passiontide and Palm Sunday (the sixth Sunday) focussed solely on Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem. It is only in more recent decades, that the church reverted to an ancient tradition in which the Passion was read on the Sunday before Easter, as something of an “overture” to the events of Holy Week[1] and as a way of tempering the elation associated with Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem with the shadow of the cross. 

My habit on Palm Sunday is to preach on Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem, in part because the Passion reading itself brings us down to earth and reminds us that the excitement of the crowd was short lived, and in part because we will hear the story all over again on Good Friday.

We are led to believe that Jesus riding a donkey into Jerusalem is a sign of humility, but in fact, Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem is quite deliberate. It is staged if you like. Jesus doesn’t walk with the crowds of pilgrims as would be expected. Instead, he rides a “borrowed” donkey, the owner of which appears to have no say in the matter. Jesus has simply sent two disciples into a village (unnamed) telling them to: “Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her; untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, just say this, ‘The Lord needs them.’ And he will send them immediately.” The owner is expected to make no objection.

Then there is the matter of the donkey and the colt. Why both? and why/how would Jesus have managed to sit astride both together? Matthew’s text is quite clear – “the disciples brought the donkey and the colt, and put their cloaks on them, and he sat on them.” (Mt 21:6) According to Matthew Jesus sat on both animals, animals which were presumably of different heights, and which may well have walked at two different speeds, after all one is a colt that may never have been ridden before. It would have been extremely awkward, not only for Jesus, but surely for the animals as well.  

Of the four gospels, only Matthew has two animals. Mark and Luke have only a colt and John has a young donkey. Given the awkwardness of the situation this has to be a deliberate addition by Matthew. Yet, this is probably not an example of Matthew’s propensity to double up (two demoniacs, two blind men) but something else entirely. There is a reason why Matthew doesn’t follow Mark but adds a second beast of burden. 

I have been puzzled less by the fact that there are two animals, and more by the fact that Jesus rides them both. It was therefore with some relief that I read Catherine Sider Hamilton[2] this week. Like me, she finds the image of Jesus riding on them to be “impossible, even ridiculous.” The text in Zechariah, which is often read as part of the Litany of the Palms reads: “behold your king comes to you, humble and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey” (Zech 9:9) and it is often assumed that this quote is behind Matthew’s doubling up, but it is clear from the text that there is only one animal in Zechariah[3].  

A key characteristic of Matthew’s gospel is his determination to demonstrate Jesus’ fulfilment of Old Testament texts. It should come as no surprise then, that in this instance, Matthew wants to make it absolutely clear that Jesus is the promised king (messiah). To do this Matthew takes us all the way back to God’s promises to the patriarchs – Genesis 49:10-11. In these verses, Jacob blesses his eldest son, Judah saying in part: “The sceptre shall not depart from Judah,” Jacob says. “Tying his foal to the vine and the colt of his donkey to the choice vine, he washes his garments in wine …” As Hamilton points out, the Genesis text refers to two animals in a text which promises that the sceptre (rule) will never pass from Judah. By the first century this text was an important part of the messianic expectation. There would always be a king of the tribe of Judah – David was of the line of Judah, and the messiah was to be of the line of David.

By including both the donkey and the colt, Matthew weaves the text from Genesis together with the text from Zechariah. The promised King arrives in Jerusalem riding a donkey and a colt. By combining the two texts Matthew makes it clear that the promised king announced by Zechariah, is in fact the messianic king – descended from David of the tribe of Judah. Indeed, it would appear that the crowd have made the connection because in Matthew (and only in Matthew) they greet Jesus as the Son of David .

This, the most Jewish of the gospels reaches back into the scriptures, to make it clear that Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem demonstrates that – whatever was to follow and no matter how unlikely the events of the Passion – Jesus was the one promised by God.

Ironically though, the crowds fail to fully see the significance of their declaration of Jesus as Son of David. Instead of proclaiming him as king they simply declare him to be: “the prophet, Jesus from Nazareth.” It is presumably this failure to recognise Jesus for who he really was that allowed them to turn their backs on him and to call for his death within a week.

With the benefit of hindsight we know who Jesus is or do we? May this Holy Week be for all of us a time for reflection and re-examination, a time to let go of our preconceptions and to open our hearts and minds that we might more fully know Jesus the Christ, so that we might share in his sufferings and participate in his glory.


[1] It is difficult to find a simple explanation of the traditions, but you might like to read further here: https://liturgy.co.nz/why-read-the-passion-on-palm-sunday

[2] https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/sunday-of-the-passion-palm-sunday/commentary-on-matthew-2711-54-7

[3] The doubling up is as Hamilton points out an example of Hebrew parallelism something that Matthew, given his familiarity with the Jewish text, would have known.

Standing out from the crowd

April 12, 2014

Palm Sunday – 2014

Matthew 26:14-27:66

Marian Free

In the name of God who challenges us to discern right from wrong and to have the courage to stand out from the crowd. Amen.

Anyone who has ever been to a concert or a sporting match knows that it does not take long to snap into sync with the crowd. Being part of a group can be extraordinarily compelling and energising. The sense of sharing a common interest holds together people who are very different from each other and causes them behave as one.

Crowds are notoriously difficult to control – in part because of this sense of unity and in part because as a result, they take on a life of their own. In many instances – especially in the case of spontaneously formed crowds – the group morphs into a self-organizing system. There is no need for central control – the common purpose holds them together. In the case of a sporting event or concert, there is no one with a megaphone saying “now!” Everyone simply cheers (or boos) together. They know instinctively how to behave. They are absorbed into the behaviour of the crowd and act as one. Even when a crowd has a leader, a crowd mentality can take over making the leader powerless – for example, surging forward despite being urged to stop or rioting when the intention was a peaceful protest.

Crowds can be sinister or positive. It is easier to be brave (or foolish) when you know that you are acting in a manner that is consistent with those around you. Being part of a group creates a feeling of solidarity, a feeling of empowerment, a belief that the many can make a greater difference than one. Being part of a crowd can be also liberating and disinhibiting. The sense of anonymity, the adrenaline rush provided by being in a crowd can provide just the excuse for someone to behave in a lawless manner, when at other times public opinion (or their own conscience) would prevent them from doing the same thing.

A crowd can work together for good – changing an unjust government or law or cleaning up after a natural disaster. But a crowd can just as easily work for bad. Crowds can turn ugly in a moment. The same mentality that had a group protesting peacefully can be turned into the opposite by the action of a few. Crowds can determine the fate of a nation, but they can just as easily decide the fate of an individual.

It can be difficult to hold one’s position, to be the person standing out from the crowd, the one shouting: “stop!”, when everyone else is shouting: “go!” Only truly courageous people have the courage to act unilaterally – to go against the flow, to stand up for a principle or ideal when no one else can yet see the need.

It is not surprising that crowds were drawn to Jesus’ arrival in Jerusalem. That he was on a donkey was calculated to attract attention. According to Zechariah, this was how the promised King would arrive. No doubt some people noticed and, thinking the prophecy fulfilled began to gather and cheer. Soon others would have joined. As the excitement built, more and more people would have wanted to be part of the excitement (perhaps so they could tell their grandchildren that they had been there). It is not surprising that the Romans and the leaders of the Jews were anxious – they knew from bitter experience how little it took for a crowd to become a riot.

It is not surprising that after Jesus’ arrest, the crowds gathered to see what would happen next. Many would have been wondering who Jesus really was and whether – if he were the King – he would find a way out of the predicament in which he found himself. Moreover, for those who have little to look forward to, a trial breaks the monotony of everyday life. It has the potential to create drama and intrigue and the outcome is never certain. Once a crowd had gathered, it could be easily manipulated. The chief priest (or others) would not have found it too difficult to incite the crowd to shout: “Barabbas” or “crucify him!” Those who did not want to join in would have found it hard to remain silent.

Because we know the story, it is easy to believe that we would have behaved differently, that we would have resisted the pressure of the crowd, and that – heedless of the consequences – we would have taken a stand to prevent an innocent person condemned to death. However, there is no reason to believe that we would have behaved any differently, that, in the circumstances we would have found the courage to stand-alone against a crowd.

Let us hope that we will not be put to the test and that if we are, we will not be found wanting.