The Donkey

Our priest shared this poem by G. K. Chesterton in the newsletter for Palm Sunday.

When fishes flew and forests walked
And figs grew upon thorn,
Some moment when the moon was blood
Then surely I was born;

With monstrous head and sickening cry
And ears like errant wings,
The devil's walking parody
On all four-footed things.

The tattered outlaw of the earth,
Of ancient crooked will;
Starve, scourge, deride me: I am dumb,
I keep my secret still.

Fools! For I also had my hour;
One far fierce hour and sweet:
There was a shout about my ears,
And palms before my feet.




Five years ago, my family was received into the Catholic Church. I remember everything with the greatest clarity. On Palm Sunday, after reading through the Passion, those of us who were preparing to enter the Church were dismissed for prayer and reflection. We blithely say, "He suffered and died for us." But the enormity, the sheer incomprehensibility of all this hit me in the stomach. I saw myself in all the characters of the Passiontide. I was Peter. I was the woman who accused Peter. I was Judas. I was Caiphas. I was Pilate. I was the crowd, singing Hosanna one moment and "crucify Him" the next. I did not feel worthy. I still don't but my Lord has given me His Body and poured out His Precious Blood for me. Oh, how it makes me want to be good and still, I don't do the good that I want to, but do the bad things I don't want to. St. Paul speaks of this in his letter to the Romans. And so it gives me courage to go on, by His grace, becoming the person God created me to be. Thank God He never stopped loving me, never stopped gazing upon me, never stopped calling me home.

All ye angels and saints, pray for us to the Lord our God. Wishing you all a most blessed Holy Week.