Behold Your King

As a child growing up in Nigeria, Palm Sunday felt like a holiday. We would march through town in a triumphant procession, our palm fronds waving in the air as we sang, “Hosanna in the Highest!” It was truly fun—joyful, vibrant, and full of energy. Palm Sunday ushers in Holy Week—the final days of Jesus’ earthly ministry as the Son of Man. It begins with celebration, but it doesn’t stay there. Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem as a humble King riding on a donkey gave the disciples a false sense of what was ahead. But Jesus was all business. He knew His time had come. Who would have thought that the celebration of Palm Sunday would give way to the sorrow of Good Friday? Looking back, the disciples would realize they had missed so much. The signs were there, but their expectations got in the way of their understanding. This week, we walk with Jesus—not just as spectators but as students, learning the lessons the disciples wish they had known.

The Lord needs you

Typically, kings don’t enter cities riding donkeys—kings ride horses. Yet Jesus chose a donkey, and not just any donkey, but one that had never been ridden. That detail alone speaks volumes. It’s so easy to overlook the significance of this moment: the obedience of unnamed disciples sent to retrieve an unknown donkey for an unseen purpose. Yet Jesus said, “If anyone asks why you are untying it, say, ‘The Lord needs it’” (Luke 19:31). This donkey was chosen not because of status, training, or pedigree. It was simply needed. And that’s where we find the heart of Palm Sunday’s call: the Lord needs you. Not because you are fully ready. Not because you understand everything. But because your obedience unlocks what’s next. Prophecy will always trump preparation. The disciples didn’t fully grasp what was coming, but their obedience helped fulfill what had been written. The truth is, you may never feel fully prepared for what God wants to do in and through your life. The timing may feel off. The calling may feel bigger than you. But preparation is not the prerequisite — surrender is. And when you yield to His leading, He’ll ride you into alignment with His purpose, just as He did with a borrowed donkey on Palm Sunday.

He comes to you

When Jesus entered Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, He wasn’t reacting to a moment—He was fulfilling a prophecy. Long before the donkey was born, long before the disciples were called, God had already written the script. “Rejoice greatly, Daughter Zion! Shout, Daughter Jerusalem! See, your king comes to you, righteous and victorious, lowly and riding on a donkey…” (Zechariah 9:9). Jesus’ entire movement into Jerusalem was pre-written. Even the specific donkey He rode had been set apart for this moment. The disciples may have seen it as spontaneous, but it was sovereignly designed. That’s the beauty of walking with God—you often find yourself in moments that seem small or unclear, only to later realize they were prophetic intersections. We don’t always need to know the full picture to fulfil destiny. We just need to obey the piece God gives us. Sometimes, the instruction will feel mundane: “Go get a donkey.” Other times, it will feel costly: “Lay down your life.” But every step matters when God is fulfilling His Word through you. So the question becomes: Are you willing to move when you don’t yet see the outcome—simply because the Word says so?

True kingship is rooted in humility

Kings don’t ride donkeys. That’s the logic of earthly kingdoms. Kings ride stallions, with chariots and guards. Kings take over with might, power, and intimidation. But Jesus came riding low. He didn’t need to prove anything. His authority wasn’t loud, but it was undeniable. He came not to dominate, but to deliver. Not to conquer people, but to redeem them. “Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart…” (Matthew 11:29). Humility, in Jesus’ hands, wasn’t weakness—it was mastery. He was the most powerful One in the crowd, yet the most surrendered. And that’s the lesson for us: the higher God calls you, the lower you must be willing to go. He calls you to positions of impact, not for applause, but to carry burdens, wash feet, and lay down your rights for others. The donkey reminds us—your calling may carry weight, but it also demands humility. Let the King show you how to lead.

True worship is found in surrender

The crowd on Palm Sunday got the words right: “Hosanna in the highest!” But they missed the heart. They were cheering for a Jesus they wanted—one who would overthrow Rome and restore their power. But Jesus didn’t come to sit on a throne in Caesar’s palace—He came to hang on a cross. And when He didn’t match their expectations, their praise turned into protest. “These people honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me” (Matthew 15:8). This is where we must examine ourselves. Are we worshipping Jesus for who He truly is—or only for what we want Him to do? Worship that’s based on outcomes will always shift with the winds. But worship rooted in surrender stands firm—through celebration and silence, through miracles and mystery. Palm Sunday invites us to go deeper: beyond waving palm branches, into laying down our will. True praise flows from hearts that have been emptied and filled again by Him.

Spiritual blindness grieves the heart of God

In the middle of the crowd’s celebration, Jesus wept. That moment should shake us. He wasn’t weeping over His upcoming suffering. He wasn’t overwhelmed by the burden He would bear. He was grieved by the blindness of the people. “As He approached Jerusalem and saw the city, He wept over it and said, ‘If you, even you, had only known on this day what would bring you peace—but now it is hidden from your eyes’” (Luke 19:41–42). They were singing, but they were also sleeping. Spiritually unaware. Caught up in the noise of the moment but missing the voice of God. And He weeps still—over us when we become busy with performance, tradition, or routine, yet numb to His presence. We can have all the outward signs of devotion and still miss the heart of it. Don’t let celebration blind you to revelation. Take time this week to ask: Am I truly seeing what God is doing? Or am I too consumed by what I hope He does for me?

Allow Jesus to sanctify your activity

Immediately after His triumphal entry, Jesus went to the temple—and flipped tables. “My house will be called a house of prayer, but you are making it a den of robbers” (Matthew 21:13). He wasn’t angry because there was activity. He was grieved because the activity had replaced intimacy. The temple—the place of meeting God—had become a marketplace. What was meant to be holy had been reduced to hustle. It’s no coincidence that cleansing came after His arrival. Whenever Jesus enters, He confronts. He heals, yes—but He also reveals. He doesn’t just come to comfort; He comes to restore. Palm Sunday reminds us that praise must be followed by purity. If we welcome the King into our lives, we must also be ready for Him to turn over what’s been corrupted. What needs to be cleansed in your life? What tables need flipping? Let Him do the work.

Holy Week Readings
Holy Monday -Luke 19:28-48
Holy Tuesday -Mark 13
Spy Wednesday -Mark 14:1-11
Maundy Thursday -John 13:1-17, Luke 22:7-20
Good Friday -John 19:16-30
Holy Saturday -Matthew 27:57-66