May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our Redeemer. Amen.
The day had started just like any other. Ned was led out of his stable and was tied up outside his owner's house. Ned was happy to serve his people and was used to being borrowed by villagers who needed to transport goods from one place to another. So there was nothing remarkable about that visit of those two men.
Sure, Ned had never seen them before, but he was confident that they had his owner's permission, and his owner was a good man who'd never let Ned be harmed. End 2 But what happened next was unusual. The two men led him to a house around the corner where they placed cloaks on his back. And then, the strangest feeling, a man climbed onto Ned's back.
No one had ever sat on Ned before, and Ned didn't know how to react. He was scared, he didn't like this extra weight, and he was anxious that his legs might give way. But there was something about this man that Ned found reassuring. There was a gentleness to this rider, not like the impatient people who had ridden members of Ned's family.
This man, now sitting on Ned's back, was different. He seemed to understand Ned, almost as if he had, in some way Ned could not understand, been part of creating Ned. He seemed to know how to handle him. He even made him feel special. But that was just the beginning of Ned's big day out. He didn't know where he was going or who this man was on his back, but Ned couldn't help notice a crowd gathering.
There were the man's friends, but now, as they made their way to the city, other people stopped what they were doing and looked up. Some joined in this happy band of pilgrims, until it became a procession, with Ned's rider at the centre of it. The sight of these friends laughing and singing as they walked along the road beckoned more passers -by to join the parade.
But maybe something deeper was going on. Something that Ned's donkey brain could not grasp. Indeed, something that the human minds joining that procession could not comprehend either. For here was a victory parade, a coronation, and a funeral cortege all rolled into one. All Ned knew was that his rider was special and that made him special too.
He had been chosen and his kind would be forever honored because of the rider on his back. The next day, Palm Monday, Ned woke up, adrenaline already coursing through his body. He had hardly slept, so excited was he by the memories of yesterday's glorious walk into Jerusalem. Never before had he felt such a rush of joy and pride.
So, basking in that glow, he strutted into town. He saw a group of people by the well. I'll show them, show myself to them, he thought. They'll recognize me from yesterday and they'll pet me and adore me. But they didn't notice him. They went on drawing their water and paid him no mind. Ned felt disrespected.
Throw your coats down, he demanded. Don't you know who I am? But the villagers just looked at him puzzled. Someone slapped him across the rump and ordered him to move. Miserable heathens, he muttered to himself. I'll just go to the market where the good people are. They will remember me. But the same thing happened.
No one paid any attention to the donkey as he swaggered down Main Street. The palm branches! Where are the palm branches? he shouted. Yesterday you threw palm branches. Hurt and confused, Ned returned home to his mother. I love you, Ned, she said gently. But you need to learn that yesterday was not about you, but him, the man on your back.
Without him, you're just a donkey. The archaeologist Fiona Marshall says that donkeys are actually extremely intelligent. Whole trade routes were built on donkeys, and the wealth of ancient Egypt depended on them. When it comes to steadiness, stamina and heroic resistance to heat, cold and thirst, donkeys win the gold medal at the animal Olympics.
They're intelligent, humble and noble. At least Ned was humble until the next day. Today we honor the ministry of Ned. It's the feast of Saint Ned. Saint Ned the Christ -bearer. How's that for a noble name? But I want to blow this day wide open. Let's make it the day for all Christ -bearers and yes, I'm looking at you.
You and I are bearers of Jesus. We take him with us wherever we go, and just like Ned, we carry him with intelligence, with humility, and with nobility. A 19th century missionary named Andrew Murray wrote, The humble person feels no jealousy or envy. They can praise God when others are preferred before them.
They can bear to hear others praised while they are forgotten because they have received the Spirit of Jesus, who pleased not himself and who sought not his own honour. Humility is perfect quietness of heart. It is for me to have no trouble, never to be fretted or vexed or irritated or sore or disappointed.
It is to expect nothing, to wonder at nothing that is done to me, to feel nothing done against me. It is to be at rest when nobody praises me and when I am blamed or despised. It is to have a blessed home in the Lord where I can go in and shut the door and kneel to my Father in secret and be at peace as in a deep sea of calmness when all around is in trouble.
Ned's humble plod to Jerusalem was not the only procession that day. There was another parade on another side of the city and another gate, and it couldn't have been more different from the one made by Ned and Jesus. It happened every Passover. The Roman governor of Judea, Pontius Pilate, rode from his home in Caesarea to Jerusalem to remind people who was in charge.
Byleth's Parade was a sick show of power, an arrogant demonstration of Rome's superiority and Jerusalem's humiliation. Just in case the locals became restless and let their resentment of Rome bubble up in naive thoughts of overthrowing the regime, Byleth's Parade burst that bubble, Passover, you see, was the most volatile time of the year, and rather like lining the streets with riot police, Pilate rode into town on an impressive looking horse to instill fear in people.
He came in power and pride to intimidate and threaten. Jesus' procession on board proclaimed a different power and a different kingdom, justice, peace, and end to exploitation and domination. The Christ -bearer is intelligent, humble, and noble, and it is our humility that gives birth to our nobility. On this Palm Sunday we always read that passage from Philippians that demands that we study the humility of Christ and copy it.
Though he was in the form of God, he did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness, And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. The Feast of Saint Ned is a day rich in irony and pregnant with purpose.
Ironically, for us, the crowd calls Jesus the Lord and the King, and so they should, because that is what he is. And yet, they don't really know what they're talking about. They call Jesus Lord because they think he's going to do a pilot, lead a military conquest of Jerusalem and rid it of Roman control.
Names have power. What we call someone shapes their future, even in a small way. The name Jorge Bergoglio doesn't tell us much about the owner of that name, but the title Pope Francis tells us all we need to know about what that man's vision and character were. If you ever saw Edison Arantes do Nascimento play soccer, you'll understand why as a kid he was nicknamed Miracle, which in Hebrew is Pele.
The Palm Sunday crowds were right to call Jesus King and Lord, but he is other things to the Lamb of God that takes away the sin of the world. The suffering servant, the Passover sacrifice, reconciling the world to God by giving himself. By the end of that week, after Jesus had thrown the furniture in the temple, had talked about destroying the temple and rebuilding it in three days, had crossed verbal swords with the religious leaders, had told people to pay their taxes to the Romans, and had made it abundantly clear that his kingdom was not of this world.
Many of those Sunday revelers lost faith in him. Most washed their hands of his mission. They wanted Jesus to fit their theology. They expected God to want the things they wanted. They demanded that Christ champion their causes. Men and women do the same thing today. I think I know what is right and wrong and I expect God to back me up.
God is on my side and will make sure I win the argument, that I have the last word, that my puny understanding of how the world should be matches God's vision, that what I think should happen is part of God's perfect plan. But we can't expect the Christ of Palm Sunday, the king who rides a donkey, to make sure that we get our own way.
The Jesus of Holy Week did have an agenda, but it was not power and self -promotion.
Ned is the perfect mode of transport for Jesus' entry into God's earthly city. In the same way, wherever you go this Holy Week, may you be aware that you carry Christ. You take Him to the market, to the office, to the park. You take Him online, to your social media page. You take Him on your phone when you talk to friends or family or business partners.
You take Him online, to your phone when you talk to friends or family or business partners. So, may we bear Christ in the same way as Ned. That's Sunday's version of Ned, not Monday's. With thoughtfulness, with humility, and with the nobility that grows from it. Amen.