April 14th, 2025
by Jeremy Erb
by Jeremy Erb
The Humble King: Reflections on Palm Sunday and the True Nature of Leadership
As we approach Palm Sunday, our thoughts turn to that pivotal moment when Jesus entered Jerusalem, greeted by crowds waving palm branches and shouting "Hosanna!" But this triumphant entry holds deeper meanings that challenge our understanding of kingship, power, and what it truly means to lead.
To fully grasp the significance of Palm Sunday, we must first journey back to ancient Israel, to a time when the people cried out for a human king. In 1 Samuel, we find a nation dissatisfied with God's direct rule, longing instead to be "like all the nations" around them. Despite warnings from the prophet Samuel about the burdens a human king would place upon them, the people insisted. Their desire for conformity, for a tangible ruler they could see and touch, overrode their trust in the invisible but ever-present God who had led them thus far.
This longing for a human king speaks to something deep within the human heart. We all hunger for leadership, for someone or something to bring order to the chaos of our lives. We yearn for security, for a sense of belonging, for someone to fight our battles. But as Israel would soon learn, human kings – no matter how tall, handsome, or promising – are ultimately flawed and limited.
Enter Saul, Israel's first king. His story begins not with grand declarations of power, but with a search for lost donkeys. It's a humble beginning, and one rich with symbolism. Donkeys, those beasts of burden, weave their way through the biblical narrative as symbols of humility, service, and God's often surprising methods of working in the world.
Saul's anointing as king happens in two stages – a private moment with Samuel, followed by a public declaration. Yet even in his moment of triumph, we find Saul hiding among the baggage when it's time to step forward. It's a telling detail, hinting at the insecurity and fear that would plague his reign.
Fast forward centuries, and we find another king entering Jerusalem. But this time, the king arrives not on a warhorse or carried in a litter, but riding on a humble donkey. Jesus' choice of mount was no accident. It was a deliberate echo of prophecy, a clear statement about the nature of his kingship.
"Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion! Shout aloud, O daughter of Jerusalem! Behold, your king is coming to you; righteous and having salvation is he, humble and mounted on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey." (Zechariah 9:9)
In this moment, Jesus reclaims the true meaning of kingship. He shows us a leader who comes not to be served, but to serve. A king who will bear the burdens of his people, rather than adding to them. The crowds cry "Hosanna!" – a word that means both "save us" and an exclamation of praise. They recognize Jesus as king, even if they don't yet fully understand the nature of his kingdom.
The symbolism of the donkey runs deep. Throughout Scripture, we find these humble animals playing crucial roles:
- Abraham loads the wood for the sacrifice of Isaac onto a donkey, foreshadowing how Jesus would carry the burden of our sins.
- Balaam's donkey sees the angel of the Lord when the prophet cannot, reminding us that God often speaks through the lowly and unexpected.
- In the parable of the Good Samaritan, it's a donkey that carries the wounded man to safety, just as Jesus would carry our wounds and sorrows.
Jesus' entry into Jerusalem on a donkey is the ultimate "divine accommodation." It shows us a God who stoops down to our level, who becomes one of us in order to save us. This is the breathtaking paradox at the heart of Christianity – that the all-powerful Creator would choose to limit himself, to take on human flesh, to experience our joys and sorrows firsthand.
The apostle Paul captures this beautifully in Philippians 2:5-11:
"Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father."
This passage reveals the profound truth that true exaltation comes through humility. Jesus didn't cling to his divine status, but willingly laid it aside. He didn't demand to be served, but came to serve. And it was through this radical self-emptying that he was ultimately glorified.
As we reflect on Palm Sunday, we're challenged to examine our own hearts. What kind of king are we truly looking for? Do we, like ancient Israel, long for a leader who will simply solve all our problems and fight our battles for us? Or are we ready to follow a king who calls us to a life of service, sacrifice, and love?
The crowds who welcomed Jesus on Palm Sunday would, just days later, call for his crucifixion. It's a stark reminder of how quickly human praise can turn to rejection when a leader doesn't meet our expectations. Yet Jesus remained faithful to his mission, even when it led him to the cross.
This Holy Week, let us cry out "Hosanna!" – save us – with new understanding. May we recognize Jesus as the king who saves not through force or political power, but through self-giving love. May we be willing to follow him, not just in moments of triumph, but on the more difficult path of servanthood and sacrifice.
As we wave our palm branches or fold them into crosses, let us remember the donkey – that humble beast of burden that carried the King of Kings. May it remind us that true greatness often comes in unexpected packages, and that God's power is most perfectly displayed in what the world might consider weakness.
Let us approach Easter with hearts ready to be transformed by this upside-down kingdom, where the last shall be first, where leaders wash feet, and where a cross becomes a symbol of victory. For in Jesus, we find not just a king to admire from afar, but one who invites us to participate in his reign of love, justice, and reconciliation.
As we approach Palm Sunday, our thoughts turn to that pivotal moment when Jesus entered Jerusalem, greeted by crowds waving palm branches and shouting "Hosanna!" But this triumphant entry holds deeper meanings that challenge our understanding of kingship, power, and what it truly means to lead.
To fully grasp the significance of Palm Sunday, we must first journey back to ancient Israel, to a time when the people cried out for a human king. In 1 Samuel, we find a nation dissatisfied with God's direct rule, longing instead to be "like all the nations" around them. Despite warnings from the prophet Samuel about the burdens a human king would place upon them, the people insisted. Their desire for conformity, for a tangible ruler they could see and touch, overrode their trust in the invisible but ever-present God who had led them thus far.
This longing for a human king speaks to something deep within the human heart. We all hunger for leadership, for someone or something to bring order to the chaos of our lives. We yearn for security, for a sense of belonging, for someone to fight our battles. But as Israel would soon learn, human kings – no matter how tall, handsome, or promising – are ultimately flawed and limited.
Enter Saul, Israel's first king. His story begins not with grand declarations of power, but with a search for lost donkeys. It's a humble beginning, and one rich with symbolism. Donkeys, those beasts of burden, weave their way through the biblical narrative as symbols of humility, service, and God's often surprising methods of working in the world.
Saul's anointing as king happens in two stages – a private moment with Samuel, followed by a public declaration. Yet even in his moment of triumph, we find Saul hiding among the baggage when it's time to step forward. It's a telling detail, hinting at the insecurity and fear that would plague his reign.
Fast forward centuries, and we find another king entering Jerusalem. But this time, the king arrives not on a warhorse or carried in a litter, but riding on a humble donkey. Jesus' choice of mount was no accident. It was a deliberate echo of prophecy, a clear statement about the nature of his kingship.
"Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion! Shout aloud, O daughter of Jerusalem! Behold, your king is coming to you; righteous and having salvation is he, humble and mounted on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey." (Zechariah 9:9)
In this moment, Jesus reclaims the true meaning of kingship. He shows us a leader who comes not to be served, but to serve. A king who will bear the burdens of his people, rather than adding to them. The crowds cry "Hosanna!" – a word that means both "save us" and an exclamation of praise. They recognize Jesus as king, even if they don't yet fully understand the nature of his kingdom.
The symbolism of the donkey runs deep. Throughout Scripture, we find these humble animals playing crucial roles:
- Abraham loads the wood for the sacrifice of Isaac onto a donkey, foreshadowing how Jesus would carry the burden of our sins.
- Balaam's donkey sees the angel of the Lord when the prophet cannot, reminding us that God often speaks through the lowly and unexpected.
- In the parable of the Good Samaritan, it's a donkey that carries the wounded man to safety, just as Jesus would carry our wounds and sorrows.
Jesus' entry into Jerusalem on a donkey is the ultimate "divine accommodation." It shows us a God who stoops down to our level, who becomes one of us in order to save us. This is the breathtaking paradox at the heart of Christianity – that the all-powerful Creator would choose to limit himself, to take on human flesh, to experience our joys and sorrows firsthand.
The apostle Paul captures this beautifully in Philippians 2:5-11:
"Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father."
This passage reveals the profound truth that true exaltation comes through humility. Jesus didn't cling to his divine status, but willingly laid it aside. He didn't demand to be served, but came to serve. And it was through this radical self-emptying that he was ultimately glorified.
As we reflect on Palm Sunday, we're challenged to examine our own hearts. What kind of king are we truly looking for? Do we, like ancient Israel, long for a leader who will simply solve all our problems and fight our battles for us? Or are we ready to follow a king who calls us to a life of service, sacrifice, and love?
The crowds who welcomed Jesus on Palm Sunday would, just days later, call for his crucifixion. It's a stark reminder of how quickly human praise can turn to rejection when a leader doesn't meet our expectations. Yet Jesus remained faithful to his mission, even when it led him to the cross.
This Holy Week, let us cry out "Hosanna!" – save us – with new understanding. May we recognize Jesus as the king who saves not through force or political power, but through self-giving love. May we be willing to follow him, not just in moments of triumph, but on the more difficult path of servanthood and sacrifice.
As we wave our palm branches or fold them into crosses, let us remember the donkey – that humble beast of burden that carried the King of Kings. May it remind us that true greatness often comes in unexpected packages, and that God's power is most perfectly displayed in what the world might consider weakness.
Let us approach Easter with hearts ready to be transformed by this upside-down kingdom, where the last shall be first, where leaders wash feet, and where a cross becomes a symbol of victory. For in Jesus, we find not just a king to admire from afar, but one who invites us to participate in his reign of love, justice, and reconciliation.
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