AFTER JESUS HAD said this, he went on ahead, going up to Jerusalem. 29As he approached Bethphage and Bethany at the hill called the Mount of Olives, he sent two of his disciples, saying to them, 30“Go to the village ahead of you, and as you enter it, you will find a colt tied there, which no one has ever ridden. Untie it and bring it here. 31If anyone asks you, ‘Why are you untying it?’ tell him, ‘The Lord needs it.’”
32Those who were sent ahead went and found it just as he had told them. 33As they were untying the colt, its owners asked them, “Why are you untying the colt?”
34They replied, “The Lord needs it.”
35They brought it to Jesus, threw their cloaks on the colt and put Jesus on it. 36As he went along, people spread their cloaks on the road.
37When he came near the place where the road goes down the Mount of Olives, the whole crowd of disciples began joyfully to praise God in loud voices for all the miracles they had seen:
38“Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord!”
“Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!”
39Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to Jesus, “Teacher, rebuke your disciples!”
40“I tell you,” he replied, “if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out.”
41As he approached Jerusalem and saw the city, he wept over it 42and said, “If you, even you, had only known on this day what would bring you peace—but now it is hidden from your eyes. 43The days will come upon you when your enemies will build an embankment against you and encircle you and hem you in on every side. 44They will dash you to the ground, you and the children within your walls. They will not leave one stone on another, because you did not recognize the time of God’s coming to you.”
Original Meaning
THIS PASSAGE, KNOWN as the Triumphal Entry, is a complex event.1 Not everyone is thrilled that Jesus enters Jerusalem riding the back of a donkey. In addition, the use of a “Solomonic-like,” humble regal entrance blunts concerns that Jesus is a threat to Rome, since he neither seizes power nor gives any indication that he is a king of power. The contrast between Jesus’ entrance and that of Roman leaders is culturally obvious.2 In sum, Jesus’ entry is a major statement about God’s plan and the nature of his kingship. It is a message some rejoice in, others do not understand, and still others emphatically reject.
As Jesus approaches Jerusalem, he begins to direct events. Near Bethphage and Bethany at the Mount of Olives, some two miles east of Jerusalem, he tells his disciples to procure an animal for entry into the capital. Luke describes the animal only as a previously unridden colt; the gospel tradition specifies the colt as a donkey (Matt. 21:2; cf. Zech. 9:9).3 The disciples must untie the animal, and if anyone asks what they are doing, they are simply to say that the Lord needs it. The cultural background for this response is the angaria, where a dignitary could procure use of property for personal reasons. This right extended to people like rabbis. So the request is not unusual.4
The disciples do just as Jesus has instructed them, and everything happens as he said it would. This sense of knowing the future adds to the mood of the passage. The events about to happen in Jerusalem are not surprises for him. He knows exactly what he is riding into. In effect, Jesus is directing the sequence of events that leads to his death.
The role of the animal becomes clear as Jesus nears the capital. The disciples throw their cloaks on the colt and put Jesus on it. As he proceeds, people spread their cloaks in front of him as well, much as a red carpet functions today. The description uses language from several Old Testament passages. The image of Jesus on the colt recalls Zechariah 9:9 and the ride of the humble, peace-making Messiah. Placing garments on the animal and on the ground recalls Jehu’s regal accession in 2 Kings 9:13. The journey as a whole is like Solomon’s procession to Gihon in 1 Kings 1:38–39. But while the background is regal, the ride on a humble animal denotes not a Messiah of raw power, but of humility and service.
Luke lacks any mention of palm branches, possibly because this imagery is decidedly Jewish and complex. Normally one expected the waving of branches at the Feast of Tabernacles, but this is the Passover. Tabernacles looked forward to the end times, while Passover pictured both the sacrifice for the forgiveness of sins and the final deliverance. This combination is instructive, for Jesus brings both.
Luke stays focused on the person of Jesus. As Jesus passes the Mount of Olives, the disciples start to praise God for the miracles Jesus has performed. The mention of this mountain (another detail unique to Luke) adds to the messianic feel of the event, since it is the predicted locale of the Messiah’s appearance (Zech. 14:4–5). Luke’s explicit mention of disciples as the source of praise is important, because they form the catalyst for the praise from the crowds the other Gospels note. This detail explains how a few days later the same crowd can urge that Jesus be crucified. Their praise of Jesus is lukewarm and follows the lead of other, more sincere followers. The popular masses are always fluctuating in their understanding of Jesus.
The disciples praise of God is also praise of Jesus. They proclaim the hope of Psalm 118:26, where blessing falls on the king who comes in the name of the Lord. The reference to “the king” is not in the original psalm, though it probably depicts a king as he leads people in the temple for worship. In that psalm the king is greeted by the priests at the temple, with the recognition that he comes to worship and serve God. The psalm was also sung in Judaism as part of the praise celebration in association with the Passover meal, so it was well known and full of end-time import.5 The disciples, by echoing the words of the psalm, declare that Jesus is the sent king who comes with authority given by God. They are also filled with joy as they note the presence of peace and glory in heaven (cf. 2:10–14). For disciples, this is a great moment. For the crowds, as the parallels tell us, this is a time to join in.
The reference to the one “who comes” (v. 38) also recalls earlier Lucan references (3:15–17; 7:19–23; 13:35).6 Luke has therefore left two sets of clues as to who Jesus is. One appeals to Old Testament background, while the other treats the events of Jesus’ ministry (especially the miracles). Each explains the other. Jesus is the Promised One whom John the Baptist mentioned; he also is the one who comes in the name of the Lord, whom Jesus predicted would be slain in Jerusalem (13:31–35).
But the vote is not unanimous. The Pharisees come and ask Jesus to reject the claim and rebuke his disciples. The regal claims are offensive to them.7 Jesus’ reply makes clear how appropriate the remarks are: If the disciples do not speak, creation will. This remark is important, for creation speaks when an injustice needs to be avenged (see Gen. 4:10; Hab. 2:11; James 5:4). It also contains an inherent rebuke, in that inanimate creation knows more about what is taking place than they do. The situation cannot be more tragic, as the tears of Jesus will soon show.
As Jesus approaches the city, we get a glimpse of his heart.8 Like Isaiah and Jeremiah (Isa. 29:1–4; Jer. 6:6–21), he declares pending judgment for the nation. Rejection of the divinely selected king will cost greatly. The prediction of national judgment shows just how much God believes in Jesus and how seriously the decision about him should be taken. As the parable of the fig tree warned (13:6–9), Israel has run out of time. Her house is desolate, and she will face severe judgment until she acknowledges him (13:31–35). Luke is not specific here, but he still holds out hope for the nation, since Acts 3:18–22 looks to the day when Old Testament promises are completed as already proclaimed. Those remaining promises give a major role to Israel in the end.
Luke 19:41 shows the last leg of Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem (9:51–19:44). He is approaching the city. Despite the fanfare, the entry is not a pleasant one for him. He knows what lies ahead and that the pain he will suffer will not be limited to himself. The nation has made a frightful choice, with dire consequences for itself. The people, considered as a community, have missed the day of messianic visitation (1:68–69, 78–79; 7:16; 19:44 [“God’s coming” is literally “God’s visitation”; cf. Acts 15:14]). Though some individuals have responded, the nation as a whole has not. Luke 19:42 describes the day as one that “would bring you peace” (cf. 1:79; 2:14; 7:50; 8:48; 10:5–6; 19:38; Acts 10:36).9 A major opportunity has been missed. If they had known it, they could have experienced blessing.10 But now, something more dire lies ahead.
What Jesus predicts is the “curse” for covenant unfaithfulness (Ps. 137:9; Isa. 29:1–4; Jer. 6:6–21; 8:18–22; Nah. 3:10). The roots of his prediction go back to Deuteronomy 28–32, where God warned that such unfaithfulness would lead to his judgment through other nations. Through Assyria and Babylon Israel already experienced such judgment. They are continuing to miss the moment of truth, and they are now responsible for their decision.
Josephus describes these judgments in great detail (Jewish Wars 5.11–12 §§ 446–572; 6.1–10 §§ 1–442). In A.D. 70, Titus of Rome overran the city. The final act was a great siege, the essence of which Jesus summarizes here. Anyone who knows how Rome took large cities can describe what Jesus does here. His prophetic insight is his understanding of what their rejection of the Messiah will cost them.
Jesus’ reference to “the days will come” indicates a prophetic oracle (1 Sam. 2:31; 2 Kings 20:17; Isa. 36:9; Jer. 7:32–34; 32:38; 33:14; 49:2; Zech. 14:1). Here it is an oracle of doom. An embankment will be built around the city, and the people will be encircled and hemmed in. When the enemy finally enters the city, everyone will be slaughtered and there will be total destruction. This is exactly what Titus brought. So thorough was his destruction that even the great temple fell. Jesus knows what he is talking about. The decision to reject Jesus is a fundamental violation of covenant trust.
Bridging Contexts
THESE EVENTS, AS with most events linked to Jesus’ time in Jerusalem, point to the central events that reveal his mission and procure salvation for humanity. Designed by God, they show how Jesus is the hub of God’s plan. How one views these events determines how one relates to God’s plan. Even though they are now nearly two thousand years old, they are set forth like recent events that call the reader to assess what God has done through Jesus. These events issue a call for decision anew in each generation.
But the timeliness of the account does not stop there. The various reactions to Jesus in this passage reflect the range of responses to the question of who Jesus is. The two most prominent responses come from the disciples and the Jewish leadership—views that cannot be more opposed. The disciples regard Jesus as the Promised King through whom God has been working with great power, as evidenced by the miracles. In him is peace and glory, the presence of the gracious authority from heaven. The leadership, on the other hand, sees the claims as exaggerated, even as something Jesus should not accept (v. 39). Luke’s readers of every age are asked in effect to choose sides. Jesus’ appeal to creation shows how fundamental the claims of the disciples are. Even creation knows they are true. The whole narrative structure of the passage challenges us to ask ourselves where we place Jesus: Is he the humble king of peace and glory or not?
The combination of a regal entry on a beast of burden is an important bridge in understanding the portrait of Jesus’ career. He is a humble king for now, as he faces the cross and as the church lives in light of his example. A day will come, however, when he will be the glorious Son of Man on the clouds, ruling with great power and fully exercising it (Rev. 19:11–21). At that time Jesus will hold a scepter and sword. The difference is important, for the church has sometimes tried to see herself as an alternative government in the world, a type of national force that should actively overthrow God’s enemies.
History has shown this to be a tragic mistake. Whether the Crusades; the Spanish Inquisition; parts of the Reformation (including the Civil War in England), or more recent attempts to confuse the church with national government, the road of the church exercising political power, in contrast to moral persuasion, has been a cul-de-sac. Romans 13:1–7 recognizes that secular governments have a role for good and for judgment, even though they lack a covenant relationship with God (Paul’s exhortation addresses a Roman context, hardly a model of morality). Society certainly runs better when it is conducted on a high moral plane; and in democracies like those in the Western world, we should share in the public square. But we should not confuse the church with government, or vice versa. To transform humanity, a change in the heart is needed. That is not the business of government, nor can it be achieved by laws; rather, it is a part of the church’s prophetic call and the work of God’s Spirit.
The predictions of unique judgment on Jerusalem in 19:41–44 points to a one-time event in the history of the nation of Israel for missing the day of her visitation. Israel will be isolated from her promise until she turns back to embracing the promise as it stands now in Jesus. Romans 11:12–32 looks to a day when the natural branches will again be grafted into the vine of divine promise. The implication of this is that even an event as amazing as the reestablishment of the nation of Israel in 1948 is not necessarily a fulfillment of Scripture in preparation for the end. It is possible that displacement from the land like that of the earlier eras of exile could come again, as unfortunate as that result would be. Fulfillment begins when Israel turns back to God.
Another corollary emerges from the reality that resulted from this judgment, namely, the inclusion of the Gentiles into God’s family (Rom. 11:11–16). God’s blessing in Christ, though it includes his covenant commitment to Israel, now incorporates Gentiles into blessing through the work of Abraham’s seed to bless all the nations (Gal. 3–4). There is no Jew or Greek in Christ. This means that while Israel retains blessings of promise, those blessings in terms of salvation are no longer unique to her. Her failure has led to the gracious inclusion of others. But Paul anticipates a day when the fullness of Gentiles will come in, to be followed by a renewal of faith in Israel as they embrace the One they previously rejected (Rom. 11:25–27). At that time, promises made to Israel long ago, including the prospect of peace within her homeland, will come.
The events of A.D. 70 for the nation, as 21:5–37 will show, picture an even more significant judgment to come. While Jesus’ remarks here are unique to its Israelite setting, a principle about decision and judgment emerges here. Though the exact expression of judgment may differ in detail, a decision against God’s Chosen One, Jesus, does leave one exposed to God’s judgment. One is free to reject Jesus; but one is also responsible to pay the consequences for that choice. In addition, the picture of judgment for covenant unfaithfulness remains a divine principle (see the warnings to Gentiles in Rom. 11:17–21). Such judgment as applied to individuals rather than corporate groups takes the form of discipline rather than outright rejection, but God holds us accountable for how we respond to him (e.g., 1 Cor. 11:27–32).
Judgment is not a pleasant subject. But two aspects of Jesus’ reaction are important in thinking about this difficult topic. (1) Judgment brings Jesus pain. He weeps for Jerusalem as he thinks about her suffering. The coming rejection is painful for him, just as Israel’s rejection was painful for Paul (Rom. 9:1–4). The nation is turning down an opportunity to be reconciled to God. Jesus, like a prophet of old, warns them of the opportunity, though he does not compel them to come into such blessing. The choice is theirs to make. This scene of weeping shows their tragic choice. It also reveals how we should see the judgment to come. It is real, inevitable, painful, and tragic—something to shed tears over. (2) The reality of such judgment should motivate us to reach out to those who do not know Christ. Everything about Jesus’ ministry pushes in the direction of making the hope known, of doing the things that make for peace (cf. Eph. 2:11–22).
Contemporary Significance
THIS PORTRAIT OF the Messiah and how he went about making his claims has much to say about how the community portrays him. In praising him as the one who comes in God’s name, there is also the reminder that this Messiah came in humility. For the most part, he did not go around declaring who he was. He let others proclaim it and preferred to let his actions reveal his identity. Jesus incarnates his evangelism with a humility of service that is represented even in the way he as king enters Jerusalem. With actions and symbols, he shows how God cares for those around him. When he mentions faith and forgiveness, it is in contexts where concrete response displays the presence of what is proclaimed. Like her Messiah, the church needs to be a community, not just of testimony and words, but of presence and service among those whom it seeks to reach. The touch of God’s presence reveals his mercy. Proclaiming and revealing Jesus are more than a matter for the head.
The wedding of life to theology is important because God has revealed his attributes in a similar way. His character is not revealed in a set of philosophical propositions. It comes through what he is doing in people’s lives. To see God in the midst of our activities is fundamental to a Christian worldview. To proclaim Jesus is to testify to him as active in our world and lives. Like these disciples who proclaimed Jesus here as the Promised King on the basis of his miracles (cf. 18:35–42), so we proclaim him most effectively when we wed our knowledge of him to his direct involvement in our lives. This assumes, of course, that we live a life of faith attuned to seeing him and recognizing him.
We can expect a variety of reactions to Jesus. There is no need to force a positive response, for that is God’s work. When Jesus is confronted by the Jewish leadership (vv. 39–40), he does not beg or cajole them into a response. He consistently lays out before them their responsibility in making the choice. His appeal to creation here notes that if no one speaks up for Jesus, an injustice before God has taken place. In other words, to fail to recognize him for who he is places one on the side of injustice with all the “rights and privileges” that come with making that choice (cf. also 19:45–20:8). The church’s message to a culture that does not believe that God speaks truth (or that he does so in many voices) is to call that culture to consider the responsibility they undertake if they are wrong. It is a tragic, even permanent, mistake to misjudge what God has revealed.
Two applications from verses 41–44 are evident. (1) God has left a trail of evidence that he controls the affairs of humanity. Certain events, such as the collapse of Israel in A.D. 70, are explicitly marked out as reflecting his judgment. That collapse is not the end of her story, as Acts 3:14–26 and Romans 11 make clear, but this event shows that God’s fingerprints are manifest in certain events.
(2) The importance of making a wise decision about Jesus is a constant theme in this Gospel. Acceptance of him leads to great blessing, while rejection leads to great pain. We should contemplate the consequences of rejecting God’s offer of grace in Jesus. God desires our allegiance. When we refuse to give it, we become responsible for that choice. A time will come when we will have to own up to our decision. Making the right decision determines the character of that meeting.