On that first Palm Sunday when Jesus returned to Jerusalem, the city in which He would die before the week was over, He was riding a donkey.
Thirty-three years earlier, His pregnant mother had also ridden a donkey into Bethlehem, the town in which He was to be born.
Donkeys have always been seen as beasts of burden. They are too big for an average family pet and not fast enough to race. They tend to work at their own pace and can be very stubborn.
They seem to spend a lot of time just standing around in the one place daydreaming. Maybe they think of their ancestors who carried the Saviour both to the cities of His birth and His death.
Maybe when they throw back their heads and treat us to their distinctive “Hee Haw” sound, they are laughing at us humans who find it difficult to stop our busy lives for a while and daydream about the events of history that have helped shape our lives.
I’m Peter Mack and that’s faith.