The Day A King Rode In
READ
Jerusalem has seen plenty of rulers make their entrance. Roman generals came through on warhorses with soldiers behind them and weapons gleaming in the sun. The message was always the same: power is here, and power demands submission. When Jesus came over the Mount of Olives, the crowd expected the same energy — finally, their conquering King had arrived.
What they got was a man on a donkey. And everything about Holy Week hinges on understanding why.
Take a moment to read Luke 19:28-40:
And when he had said these things, he went on ahead, going up to Jerusalem. When he drew near to Bethphage and Bethany, at the mount that is called Olivet, he sent two of the disciples, saying, “Go into the village in front of you, where on entering you will find a colt tied, on which no one has ever yet sat. Untie it and bring it here. If anyone asks you, ‘Why are you untying it?’ you shall say this: ‘The Lord has need of it.’” So those who were sent went away and found it just as he had told them. And as they were untying the colt, its owners said to them, “Why are you untying the colt?” And they said, “The Lord has need of it.” And they brought it to Jesus, and throwing their cloaks on the colt, they set Jesus on it. And as he rode along, they spread their cloaks on the road. As he was drawing near—already on the way down the Mount of Olives—the whole multitude of his disciples began to rejoice and praise God with a loud voice for all the mighty works 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!” And some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to him, “Teacher, rebuke your disciples.” He answered, “I tell you, if these were silent, the very stones would cry out.”
REFLECT
There's something a little uncomfortable about Palm Sunday if you sit with it long enough.
The crowd was genuinely excited — but they were excited about the wrong thing. They wanted a king who would overthrow Rome, restore Israel's glory, and make everything right through force. And Jesus, knowing exactly what they were expecting, got on a donkey anyway. Not because He was making a small entrance, but because He was making a statement: I am not the kind of king you're imagining, and the kingdom I'm building doesn't work the way you think kingdoms work.
The donkey was intentional. It was a direct fulfillment of Zechariah 9:9 — "your king comes to you, gentle and riding on a donkey" — a passage the crowd would have known. Jesus wasn't hiding who He was. He was showing them, as clearly as He could, what kind of Messiah He came to be.
The tension in this passage is one worth holding personally: how often do we welcome Jesus enthusiastically — genuinely, even — but mostly because we want Him to fix our specific problem, remove our specific obstacle, or show up in the way we've already decided He should? The crowd on Palm Sunday wasn't insincere. Their praise was real. But it was also shaped entirely by their own agenda.
Jesus received the praise and rode toward the cross anyway. He doesn't wait for us to understand Him fully before He shows up. He enters the mess of our expectations and wrong assumptions and begins the slow, patient work of reorienting us toward something truer.
Palm Sunday is an invitation: let Him be the kind of King He actually is — not the one you've been asking for.
RESPOND
Take a moment to process what God might be leading you to do in light of what you read.
Where in your life have you been welcoming Jesus enthusiastically but also expecting Him to show up in a very specific way? What might He be doing instead that you haven't recognized yet?
The crowd's expectation of a conquering king blinded them to the servant king in front of them. What assumptions about Jesus might be limiting what you see of Him right now?
What would it look like to lay your agenda down at the beginning of this Holy Week — and simply follow where He's going?
REST
Take a moment to rest in God’s presence and consider one thing you can take away from your time reading, then close your devotional experience by praying:
Jesus, I confess I often welcome You on my own terms — wanting You to fix things the way I've decided they should be fixed. This week, help me see You clearly. Not the King I've constructed in my imagination, but the One who rode a donkey toward a cross because that was always the plan. Reorient me. I'm paying attention. Amen.