Holy Week begins with Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem on a donkey. The people lay their garments and palm branches on the ground before Him, crying out, “Hosanna to the Son of David: Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord; Hosanna in the highest!” (Matthew 21:9).

We could explore the Hebrew meaning of Hosanna or the symbolism of the palm leaves, but today, I want to focus on the donkey—the seemingly minor detail of this story that, upon closer examination, holds profound significance. Remarkably, all four Gospel accounts mention this donkey, giving it enough attention to suggest its importance.

In a culture steeped in scripture, many would have recognized the fulfillment of Zechariah’s prophecy:

“Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion; shout, O daughter of Jerusalem: behold, thy King cometh unto thee: he is just, and having salvation; lowly, and riding upon an ass, and upon a colt the foal of an ass...” (Zechariah 9:9-10).

Jesus deliberately calls for a donkey, fulfilling the written word that identifies Him as the promised King who would bring salvation. Often, we stop there, acknowledging the prophetic connection—but there is more, much more.

Jesus wasn’t the first in Scripture to ride a donkey to take his rightful place as king. Solomon, chosen by King David to be his successor, also entered Jerusalem on a donkey. His older brother Adonijah, believing the throne should be his, tried to claim it with grandeur:

“He exalted himself, saying, I will be king: and he prepared him chariots and horsemen, and fifty men to run before him.” (1 Kings 1:5)

Adonijah’s showy entrance feels like something out of Aladdin—a parade fit for earthly royalty. But God works differently. The marks of a true king in God’s eyes are humility and a heart for His people.

A donkey, unlike a horse, was a beast of burden—common, reliable, and intimately connected to the daily lives of the people. Donkeys are careful, and patient,—unlike the reactive, warlike temperament of horses. It makes sense that a king ordained by God would come not in triumphal chariots but on the humble back of a donkey.

David instructed that Solomon ride on his own mule. When Solomon entered the city, the people rejoiced with such passion that “the earth rent with the sound of them.” Like Jesus, Solomon didn’t demand a celebration—it arose naturally from the people he would lead.

The donkey, then, is more than transport—it is a living metaphor. A throne of humility, a vessel of peace. And, it tells a story of the sacrificial king.

Matthew’s account mentions not one donkey, but two: a mother and her colt.

“Go into the village over against you, and straightway ye shall find an ass tied, and a colt with her: loose them, and bring them unto me. And if any man say ought unto you, ye shall say, The Lord hath need of them...” (Matthew 21:2–3).

This imagery gently draws us back to the beginning: a mother, heavy with child, entering Bethlehem. Though Scripture doesn’t explicitly say that Mary rode a donkey, many assume she did. Any woman who has carried a child near full term knows the practicality—and mercy—of riding rather than walking. Donkeys were also a common form of transportation: dependable, surefooted, and capable of bearing heavy burdens across rugged terrain.

So here we are again, at the culmination of Jesus’ life, seeing a similar image made manifest—this time not a mother and unborn child, but the child, now a fully grown man coming accomplish what He was born too. The image of the two donkeys, a mother and her colt, entering Jerusalem with Jesus is a beautiful and incomprehensible echo—a detail worth deep reflection. What does that tell us about the role of Mary as she bore the immense spiritual and emotional burden of being the mother of the Son of God, walking alongside Him from birth to the cross?

The other Gospel writers mention only the colt, which also holds deep symbolism. Mark records:

“As soon as ye be entered into it, ye shall find a colt tied, whereon never man sat; loose him, and bring him.”(Mark 11:2)

This unbroken colt—pure, untouched by man—evokes the image of a perfect son, set apart. It’s reminiscent of God’s command concerning altars:

“If thou wilt make me an altar of stone, thou shalt not build it of hewn stone: for if thou lift up thy tool upon it, thou hast polluted it.” (Exodus 20:25)

This colt, never ridden, unpolluted by human hands, becomes a symbol of the altar upon which Jesus, the sacrificial Lamb, will be offered.

When God told Abraham to sacrifice his son Isaac, Scripture says:

“Abraham rose up early in the morning, and saddled his ass... and took Isaac his son... and went unto the place which God had told him.” (Genesis 22:3)

Though subtle, the presence of the donkey is again significant. If the pattern holds, the donkey may well have carried Isaac, the promised son in whom all of God’s covenants rested. Isaac, a foreshadowing of Christ, is carried to the site of sacrifice. But unlike Isaac, Jesus would not be spared.

And yet, Jesus does not only carry the weight of His own life sacrificed—He carries us. In the parable of the Good Samaritan, a wounded man is rescued:

“And [the Samaritan] went to him, and bound up his wounds, pouring in oil and wine, and set him on his own beast, and brought him to an inn, and took care of him.” (Luke 10:34)

This image mirrors what Jesus is about to do. He binds our wounds with a promise, pours in healing oil and wine under the pressure of taking upon all of mankind’s sins, and takes our burdens when we are too broken to carry the crosses of life placed upon us. This imagery speaks of the coming atonement of Jesus Christ, and the rest that will be promised to us if we allow for His care as within 3 days time of death, He overcomes it with the Resurrection, a time where all will be made whole.

The story continues to unfold with deliberate consistency as we encounter Abigail—perhaps a lesser-known story, but a powerful one. Married to the wicked Nabal, she acts with courage and wisdom when David comes seeking vengeance. She gathers a peace offering:

“two hundred loaves, and two bottles of wine, and five sheep ready dressed, and five measures of parched corn, and an hundred clusters of raisins, and two hundred cakes of figs, and laid them on asses. And it was so, as she rode on the ass, that she came down by the covert of the hill, and, behold, David and his men came down against her; and she met them.”” (1 Samuel 25:18, 20)

These foods are familiar elements of the Passover meal. Passover is a Jewish holiday that commemorates God’s deliverance of the Israelites from slavery in Egypt, marked by the angel of death "passing over" their homes and celebrated with a symbolic meal called the Seder. The mention of corn may raise questions, but many scholars believe that if it wasn’t cooked—since cooking could lead to leavening—it would still be appropriate. The term “parched corn” suggests it was prepared in a way that honored Passover’s strict requirements. The story also mentions Abigail returning home and there being a large feast, which also alludes to the possibility that this interaction with David was during Passover.

At the time Jesus entered Jerusalem, the people were also preparing to celebrate the Passover. It was during this holy meal that He instituted the sacrament of communion, revealing that His body and blood, symbolized by the bread and wine, would become the offering, the saving grace that would deliver humanity from death itself. This sacred act draws a striking parallel to Abigail’s story, where intercession and sacrifice become the means of mercy.

After pleading with David, Abigail says:

“Upon me, my lord, upon me let this iniquity be.” (1 Samuel 25:24)

She steps in as an intercessor for her household—just as Christ would intercede for all of humanity. Willingly, she bears the responsibility herself, seeking to spare others from death. David receives her plea with grace and blesses her. Not long after, Nabal—her foolish and wicked husband—dies, and Abigail becomes the bride of the king.

Other than the serpent in the Garden of Eden, the donkey is the only other animal in the Bible to speak to man. (Check out the story of Balaam - Numbers 22:21-39) Jesus rides into Jerusalem on a humble donkey—a detail rich with prophetic significance. Thus making this humble yet most symbolic animal a great story teller, guiding us on a journey that speaks of the role and redemptive power of Jesus Christ. The donkey, a thread weaving through the fabric of time, ties together prophecy and Biblical story in ways that only God could orchestrate. It’s not just an animal; it’s a symbol of a King who has come, not to rule in the way the world expects, but to claim His rightful throne in the most unexpected way. His salvation would be one of pure, perfect sacrifice—a gift, not earned but freely given. He gave His life so that we may have life.

Jesus’ sacrifice, atonement, and resurrection aren’t just distant events in history—they’re deeply woven into our everyday lives, accessible to each of us. And in His grace and mercy, He doesn’t just save us from sin; He carries us, burdens and all, to a throne in heaven. There, we can take our rightful place as heirs to the Kingdom of God, but only—through our King and Lord, Jesus Christ.