The Donkey and the Warhorse
James Harris, Common Grace’s Justice for People Seeking Asylum Coordinator, shares a reflection on the need to listen to those bearing the cost of war and our call to be peacemakers.
As the world feels increasingly gripped by violence and chaos, the challenge of Palm Sunday feels like it’s pressing in with urgency. I pray that we’re all paying attention to it.
Earlier this week, Israel’s Prime Minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, said, “Jesus Christ has no advantage over Genghis Khan”. It’s a stark admission of belief, and what should be a moment of clarity for the Church.
In making the case for the war in Iran he said, referencing historian Will Durant, “If you are strong enough, ruthless enough and powerful enough, evil will overcome good. Aggression will overcome moderation. So you have no choice.”
Netanyahu is saying and demonstrating that in the face of insecurity and fear, the response must be greater power, greater domination and destruction of those who oppose us - for it is power that is the driving force of history. This is the path chosen by those who pursue empires, not those who pursue justice and peace. It is the path of Genghis, not Jesus. This is perhaps what underpins most wars, but I can’t recall a time where it has been said so explicitly.
Palm Sunday is the story of that very choice, empire or peace, Genghis or Jesus. A choice that Netanyahu insists we do not have.
As Jesus enters Jerusalem, two radically different visions of the world stand in contrast. One built on force, domination and fear. The other on love, sacrifice and peace.
In the midst of a people yearning for safety, liberation and security - yearning for a King, a Messiah, that would come with fire and fury, and put their enemies under heel and overthrow those who would oppose them- King Jesus arrives, not on a warhorse but upon a donkey.
He announces that His Kingdom has come, not through violence but through love.
Several historians suggest that while Jesus was making his entry into Jerusalem, greeted by supporters with palm leaves – the Roman governor, Pontius Pilate, had just entered from the other side of the city in a procession of imperial might, horses and armour, banners and steel, a spectacle of power meant to command fear and secure obedience
Jesus in a prophetic act of what must have been intentional parody, was making a point. His way was not the way of empire and violence. He was rejecting the way of Rome, of Genghis, - of Netanyahu, of Trump and all those who would choose war and domination.
We know where the way of empire leads. It leads to girls being bombed while at school, cities choked by toxic smoke, children starving, and entire families and communities being eradicated from existence. And history reminds us time and time again, it does not bring lasting stability and peace.
In the aftermath of World War II, humanity entered the most prolonged period of relative peace we have known. The horrors of that war, and the shadow of nuclear annihilation, awakened something in our collective imagination; a recognition that no objective, no ambition, is worth the cost of such destruction.
Out of that reckoning came a fragile but significant commitment to a rules-based order and to the dignity of every human life, expressed through the development of international law and human rights.
Imperfect, and often inconsistently applied, it nonetheless reflects something deeply resonant with the Christian vision, that every person bears the image of God, and that peace is not secured through domination, but through the protection and flourishing of all.
I believe this moment calls all of us who follow Jesus to remind our governments of this. Our government should condemn breaches of international law by allies and enemies alike, and to pursue the path of peace, diplomacy and flourishing that moves beyond fear. I pray that you join Common Grace as we seek to live this out.
Palm Sunday is not just a day to reflect, but a path to be chosen. We cannot walk in both processions. We cannot place our trust in Jesus and at the same time justify the way of empire. We reject the belief that Genghis has the advantage; we choose the way of Jesus. Love over fear, sacrifice over domination and a belief that every life – in Iran or Israel, Gaza or Australia – is precious and worth protecting.
This blog is the first in a three-part blog series shared with the Common Grace movement around Palm Sunday 2026, in response to the increasing conflict in the Middle East and growing displacement crisis across the globe. The next two blogs from James Harris will be shared soon.
Next Steps
Please join us in prayer for peace, safety and welcome for refugees and those across the globe seeking asylum. Find a prayer for peace written by Gershon Nimbalker for Palm Sunday 2026 here. Explore further prayer resources for justice for people seeking asylum here.
Do you have a story of being welcomed, or welcoming refugees into your community? Share your story with us. In 2026, Refugee Week (17 - 23 June) will be celebrated with the theme of ‘A Million Stories’ to mark the one million permanent humanitarian visas Australia has issued since international calls in 1947 to help resettle people after the horrors of WW2. This remarkable legacy of welcome is one we should be deeply proud of, and one that has woven a rich tapestry of friendship and shared experience into the heart of our communities and culture. Find out more and share your story here.
If you haven’t already, sign up with your email to join us on the journey and keep up to date on how you can be taking action with Common Grace as we pursue peace and speak out for justice or our asylum-seeker friends looking for welcome on our shores.
Gershon Nimbalker is the National Director of Common Grace and founder of Sojourners Social Change Consultants. He has more than 15 years of experience working in advocacy, policy, and research, as well as leading and growing grass roots movements to campaign on issues of social justice. Gershon lives on the lands of Awabakal peoples in Newcastle, NSW with his young family.
