Tag: donkeys

I love donkeys. I love the gentleness of their faces. I love the way they symbolise the humilty of God. I love the legends that surround them. I love the fact that they have a cross on their back – the story of God’s pain drawn in the fur of a donkey.

And on Sunday at St Oswald’s we had a visit from a donkey – from Barney the donkey, to be precise. And 40 excited children, 60 adults and one very excited curate got to encounter a living symbol of the humility of our God.

And earlier that morning, before the children and the donkey arrived and filled the church with joyful chaos, I had preached at a quieter service. And I preached on the story that starts off the Passion Liturgy – the nameless woman in Mark 14 who annoints Jesus’ head with perfume of nard.

And drawing on comments made by friends and colleagues in the week leading up to that sermon, I noticed how this woman gave Christ two precious gifts that are often overlooked. One was the gift of actually listening to him and believing him when he said he was going to die. Others around him, the high profile named characters in Mark’s gospel, James, Peter, John…they were in denial. Jesus said he was going to die and they said ‘not on our watch’ you don’t.

This woman looked and listened and saw a man going to his death. It is a gift to be seen. A gift to be heard. A gift to be understood. And it’s a gift she gave Our Lord.

And she annointed his hair with a whole bottle of nard. And when a friend said she had smelt a tiny bit of nard – and that it had filled a room with a clear, spicy, beautiful scent that lingered…I thought that Christ would still have been surrounded by that smell even while he hung on the cross. The memory of this unknown woman, her love and her understanding would have been with him on the cross. Another gift.

It is sometimes said that Christ was abandoned on the cross, to die all alone. I beg to differ. The smell of the nard was with him. His mother was with him. Mary Magdalene was with him. When people say ‘everyone’ ran away what they really mean is all the men ran away, all the important people ran away. Leaving the nameless ones, the unimportant women in the story and the unnamed Disciple whom Jesus loved, standing and waiting with him. Keeping Our Lord company. Giving him the gift of courage in not running away, the gift of waiting with him.

And by entering into the ancient story of Holy Week – whatever our beliefs or unbeliefs – even if only a tiny, tiny bit we join with the nameless ones, the unimportant ones who kept company with the God who rode a donkey. We give a tiny gift to the one who gives us everything.

May your Holy Week be blessed.