“No Possessions Needed”
Palm Sunday April 13, 2025
Luke 19:28–40
After he had said this, he went on ahead, going up to Jerusalem.
When he had come near Bethphage and Bethany, at the place called the Mount of Olives, he sent two of the disciples, saying, ‘Go into the village ahead of you, and as you enter it you will find tied there a colt that has never been ridden. Untie it and bring it here. If anyone asks you, “Why are you untying it?” just say this: “The Lord needs it.” ’ So those who were sent departed and found it as he had told them. As they were untying the colt, its owners asked them, ‘Why are you untying the colt?’ They said, ‘The Lord needs it.’ Then they brought it to Jesus; and after throwing their cloaks on the colt, they set Jesus on it. As he rode along, people kept spreading their cloaks on the road. As he was now approaching the path down from the Mount of Olives, the whole multitude of the disciples began to praise God joyfully with a loud voice for all the deeds of power that they had seen, saying, ‘Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest heaven!’ Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to him, ‘Teacher, order your disciples to stop.’ He answered, ‘I tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout out.’
Shortly after Easter some years ago a group of Lutherans from northwest Wisconsin traveled to numerous historical sites in Israel. Holy Week has never been the same, since that memorable trip.
This Palm Sunday I am recalling the day our group looked over the Kidron Valley toward Jerusalem while we stood at the Mount of Olives. The plan was to walk down a road that dated back 3000 years, the same road Jesus traveled as he entered Jerusalem for the Passover.
As we stood at the top of the hill looking down the route we would travel, on the left was the largest Jewish cemetery in the world. It was established in the long held belief that the Messiah would appear on the Mount of Olives.
Not far off the route into the city, at the bottom of the hill is the Garden of Gethsemane, graced by the olive trees that allegedly existed back on the night Jesus was betrayed by Judas. All of these locations are just a short distance from the path Jesus took as he entered the city on this day now known as Palm Sunday
At the beginning of our trek from the Mount of Olives into Jerusalem, a couple of local men approached us asking, “Would you like to borrow a donkey to ride down the hill?” No one showed interest, so the man continued, “Perhaps you would sit upon one and we can take your picture.” These were not simply kind offers by generous new friends. This was the way these men make their living.
Anyone in the group that was still toying with the sales pitch quickly stopped when they heard it was $50 to sit on the donkey for a picture and $150 to “borrow” the donkey.
The Mount of Olives may be the most famous place on earth to “borrow” a donkey but our group declined the invitation. However, the people behind us were seriously pious Christians. They were rapidly peeling Israeli shekels from their money pouches for the privilege of riding donkeys down the hill. I couldn’t help but think if they really wanted an authentic biblical replay, then no money should have changed hands.
The Bible tells us the donkey was borrowed. Jesus sent two disciples ahead of him on his way to Jerusalem saying: “Go to the village, and you will find a donkey. Untie it and bring it to me. And if anybody asks, ‘Where are you going with my animal,’ simply say the Lord needs it, and we will bring it right back.”
The act of the disciples borrowing a donkey catches my attention having been to the Mount of Olives. All those people that day — standing by that Jewish Cemetery — see Jesus as the one long-promised to be the King who would bring them a better life — different from the oppressive rule of the Roman Empire. They cheer on Jesus as he goes down the path toward Jerusalem: “Hosanna! Save us, we pray. Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!” On a borrowed donkey.
If you’ve been around the Christian story awhile, you’ve heard how borrowing dots key parts of Jesus’ life. Jesus was born in a borrowed stable and laid in a borrowed manger. As he traveled with his disciples, he borrowed beds on which to rest. He ate his final meal in a borrowed room. He was crucified on a borrowed cross. And when he died, somebody placed his body in a borrowed tomb.[1]
Jesus was a borrower. He did not grasp or grab what did not belong to him, but shared freely what was given to him. “Jesus did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself.” (Phil 2:6) Jesus didn’t hold up his power and position as God. He never forced himself upon anybody. Instead, He gave himself completely away for the benefit of others.
Have you ever considered how remarkable this is? Jesus didn’t own very much — just the clothes on his body and the sandals on his feet. After he was arrested and condemned, the soldiers tossed dice to see who would take his clothing.
He commanded those who followed him to travel life lightly. Jesus instructed his disciples: “When you go out to proclaim the good news, take no money, no knapsack, no extra shoes, not even a walking stick. Take only a word of peace, borrow the bed given to you, and proclaim that God’s kingdom has come very close.”[1] At its core, this Good News Jesus came to bring does not need a lot of possessions to be shared.
There is a beauty to simplicity, to not owning much and needing very little. The people who strive toward such simplicity are free to pay full attention to the people around them. Little distracts them from the deep needs of the world. Nothing competes with their imagination or faithfulness.
From everything we know about Jesus, he was just like the peasants of his time. He owned very little. Jesus possessed a deep sensitivity to the world’s deepest needs. He paid attention to the hurts of poor and rich alike. But his greatest possession was a love for every single person and a willingness to give his all for this world.
This is the kind of God that we glimpse in the man who borrows a donkey. As author Raymond Brown puts it in his book “Death of the Messiah: Jesus “manifests a God whose very being is not acquisitive, but self-giving… [that] the ultimate power is the power to renounce power.”[2]
Today we remember how Jesus gives himself to the world. On this festive day, he rides a borrowed donkey into the center of the city that will reject him. A person with few possessions, he empties himself of all that he has. It’s all for the benefit of saving the world. And God keeps doing this saving work, setting us free from all selfishness and falling for the empty claim of wealth and claiming us in the name of Jesus who owned very little, but who ultimately wishes to possess our hearts.
[1] Mark 6:7–10, Matthew 10:5–15
[2] Raymond Brown, Death of the Messiah (New York: Doubleday and Sons, 1994) 27.
