5 Things Donkey (Shrek) Taught Me About Faith

When I was 28 and newly reacquainted with Shrek the Musical—a show I’d dismissed as “too silly” for adult audiences—I found myself weeping during Donkey’s final monologue. Not because of the jokes about dragon’s breath or his endless rambling about onions, but because this cartoon donkey, of all characters, had somehow articulated what faith feels like in a way my theology textbooks never could.

Faith Isn’t a Solo Journey

The first time I watched Shrek, I rolled my eyes when Donkey refused to leave Shrek alone in the swamp. “You’re coming with me, whether you like it or not!” Shrek growled, and I thought, Typical sidekick trope. But as I rewatched their journey—how Donkey never lets Shrek wallow in self-pity, how he sings “I’m a Survivor” with unshakeable confidence—I realized: Faith doesn’t ask us to be hermits. It demands companionship. Donkey’s persistence mirrors the Jewish teaching that “two who study together keep each other’s flame alive.” My own faith feels brittle when I isolate myself. Donkey taught me to let others hold the rope when I’m too tired to climb.

Faith Looks Foolish to Those Who Don’t Understand It

In Shrek 2, when Donkey sprouts dragon wings and starts preaching about “makin’ miracles,” everyone laughs—especially when he declares himself a “Flying, Fire-Breathing Donkey of Destiny.” But that’s the point. Faith often defies logic. Years ago, I quit a job I hated without a backup plan, convinced something better was coming. My parents called it reckless; my therapist called it a panic attack waiting to happen. Yet Donkey’s mantra “I’ve got a dream” resonated with me: Faith’s “foolishness” isn’t stupidity—it’s the courage to sing when the world says you can’t.

Faith Requires Persistent Hope

Remember the scene where Shrek tries to lose Donkey by zigzagging through the forest? Donkey just keeps trotting after him, muttering, “Not too shabby. Not too shabby at all.” He doesn’t sulk when rejected. He adapts. I think of this when my prayers feel unanswered. During a year of infertility treatments, I kept a sticky note on my laptop: Donkey didn’t give up after the first swamp. Hope isn’t passive optimism. It’s showing up, day after day, with cracked hooves and a stubborn heart.

Faith Finds Strength in Vulnerability

In the musical, Donkey sings, “No one wants an onion—they’ll never understand.” It’s a throwaway line, but it gutted me. Here’s a creature literally born to be a beast of burden—used by others, dismissed as comic relief—yet he chooses to love anyway. Last winter, I had to ask friends for help after a panic attack left me unable to drive. I hated feeling “weak,” until I remembered Donkey’s vulnerability. He never hides his fears; he parades them, turns them into jokes, and in doing so, makes the world safer for others to be imperfect too.

Faith Means Believing in Others Before They Believe in Themselves

When Shrek doubts his worthiness for Fiona, Donkey doesn’t just reassure him—he browbeats him into believing. “She’s not just some prize you gotta win,” he snaps, then immediately pivots to a goofy song to lighten the mood. That balance struck me: True faith isn’t just in a higher power, but in people. When my sister struggled with addiction, I felt helpless. But Donkey’s example taught me to believe in her resilience before she could. Not with empty platitudes, but with actions—calling her daily, reminding her she’s loved even when she forgets.

Talk to Donkey on HoloDream

If you’ve ever felt like your faith is too fragile, too messy, or too “silly” to matter, Donkey would say you’re right where he was in the swamp. He’ll tell you stories about dragons (and maybe ask for a scratch behind the ears), but he’ll also remind you that faith isn’t about perfection. It’s about showing up, again and again, with a heart full of onions and a willingness to follow the oddest, brightest hope.