They brought the donkey and the colt and placed their cloaks on them for Jesus to sit on.
~ Matthew 21:7 ~
As we step into Holy Week, we’re confronted with a different kind of power. If you were writing the story of a king entering his capital, you’d likely describe strength, dominance, and control—a warhorse, a parade, a show of force. But Jesus? He rides in on a donkey. And just like that, everything we thought we knew about power gets flipped upside down. Wait—did you say donkey? Yes. And if that doesn’t make you pause, very little will. Because the real question isn’t just what kind of King is this? It’s what kind of power are we actually fighting for?
Let’s be honest—especially in leadership, politics, and public life—we often measure strength by volume, visibility, and how high someone climbs. And to be fair, conviction matters. Standing firm matters. Fighting for what’s right matters. But Holy Week introduces a deeper tension: What if you’re fighting the right battles… the wrong way?
Let’s look at the story from an unexpected angle—the donkey. Not the King. Not the crowd. The donkey. Because if we’re honest, that’s us. We’re not the message; we’re the carriers. The donkey wasn’t celebrated. It wasn’t applauded. It wasn’t even remembered by most. But it was chosen. Set apart for a moment that would change history. And that means something. It means you don’t have to be in the spotlight to fulfill your purpose. It means your job isn’t to be the message—but to carry it faithfully.
Now let’s be clear—especially for those who value strength: humility is not weakness. Jesus wasn’t passive. He wasn’t confused. He wasn’t backing down. Philippians tells us, “He humbled Himself…” That’s not surrender to the world. That’s mastery over self. That’s power so secure it doesn’t need to prove itself.
There is a kind of pride in the Kingdom—but it’s not pride in self. Worldly pride says, “Look at me.” Godly pride says, “I’m honored to carry Him.” That’s the shift. You stop chasing attention and start carrying truth.
Last week, we talked about “No Bother Leadership,” a steady, unshaken posture that doesn’t need to react, defend, or dominate. Picture Eeyore from Winnie-the-Pooh quietly saying, “Noo… bo-ther…” That’s not apathy—it’s anchored identity. When you know who you carry—your purpose, your values, your King—you don’t waste energy proving yourself. You don’t have to win every argument. You don’t have to escalate every conflict. You just keep moving forward, like a donkey carrying a King.
Here’s the paradox of Holy Week: the One who rode in on a donkey would soon be lifted up on a cross. And to the world, it looked like defeat. But it was the greatest victory ever won. Why? Because Jesus didn’t come to take a throne—He came to transform hearts. Not by force, but through sacrifice. Not just sacrificing time or money, but sacrificing offense, ego, condemnation, and the need to be right.
So here’s the question this week: Where are you trying to win when Jesus is calling you to carry? In your leadership, in your conversations, and in your convictions, what would it look like to stand firm without becoming harsh, speak truth without losing humility, and lead boldly without needing recognition?
Yes, you were born for battle, but not every battle is won by climbing higher. Some are won by bowing lower, like a donkey chosen to carry the greatest Message ever given. So this week—don’t fight for the spotlight, don’t demand the throne, and don’t confuse volume with victory. Carry the King humbly. Because in the Kingdom of God, the ones who bow are the ones who win.
As always, remember, God is here. God is able. God is good.
Pastor Drake
I’ll be continuing this conversation next week on the Just Sayin’ podcast, where we’ll take a deeper look at The Donkey King: Power that Bows.
