29 And it came to pass, when he drew nigh unto Bethphage and
Bethany, at the mount that is called Olivet, he sent two of the
disciples, 30 saying, Go your way into the village over against
_you_; in which as ye enter ye shall find a colt tied, whereon no
man ever yet sat: loose him, and bring him. 31 And if anyone ask
you, Why do ye loose him? thus shall ye say, The Lord hath need of
him. 32 And they that were sent went away, and found even as he
had said unto them. 33 And as they were loosing the colt, the
owners thereof said unto them, Why loose ye the colt? 34 And they
said, The Lord hath need of him. 35 And they brought him to Jesus:
and they threw their garments upon the colt, and set Jesus
thereon. 36 And as he went, they spread their garments in the way.
37 And as he was now drawing nigh, _even_ at the descent of the
mount of Olives, the whole multitude of the disciples began to
rejoice and praise God with a loud voice for all the mighty works
which they had seen; 38 saying, Blessed _is_ the King that cometh
in the name of the Lord: peace in heaven, and glory in the
highest. 39 And some of the Pharisees from the multitude said unto
him, Teacher, rebuke thy disciples. 40 And he answered and said, I
tell you that, if these shall hold their peace, the stones will
cry out.
41 And when he drew nigh, he saw the city and wept over it, 42
saying, If thou hadst known in this day, even thou, the things
which belong unto peace! but now they are hid from thine eyes. 43
For the days shall come upon thee, when thine enemies shall cast
up a bank about thee, and compass thee round, and keep thee in on
every side, 44 and shall dash thee to the ground, and thy children
within thee; and they shall not leave in thee one stone upon
another; because thou knewest not the time of thy visitation.
45 And he entered into the temple, and began to cast out them that
sold, 46 saying unto them, It is written, And my house shall be a
house of prayer: but ye have made it a den of robbers.
47 And he was teaching daily in the temple. But the chief priests
and the scribes and the principal men of the people sought to
destroy him: 48 and they could not find what they might do; for
the people all hung upon him, listening.
The story of Luke is never lacking in human interest, but no scene is more
suffused with sentiment, none more vivid with color, than that which
pictures Jesus entering Jerusalem in triumph. We see our Lord mounted as a
king, surrounded by acclaiming multitudes, sweeping over the brow of
Olivet, while his attendant disciples spread their garments in the way and
hail him as the Messiah. We see him lamenting over the doomed city and
hear the harsh tones of the rulers who are plotting his death. With all
these shouts of joy and sobs of grief and mutterings of malice, surely no
scene is so full of emotion and none can illustrate more strikingly the
relation between religious feeling and religious faith.
An appeal to the eye and ear and heart may awaken sentiment and prepare
the way for the surrender of the will. There is to-day a proper place for
music and architecture and eloquence as aids to devotion. In the case of
the triumphal entry, Jesus planned every detail. He sent two disciples to
secure the colt on which he was to ride; he allowed the disciples to place
on the colt their garments, and as he rode toward the city he accepted the
acclamations of the crowd. When the Pharisees criticized Jesus for
permitting such praise and arousing such excitement, he declared that such
homage to himself was not only proper but necessary, and that if the
multitudes were silenced the very stones would “cry out” to welcome and to
honor him. Jesus was offering himself as King for the last time, and
therefore his offer was to be made in the most impressive way. He appealed
to the imagination. He stirred the emotions. He did not mean that he was
to be such a king as the people supposed; the borrowed colt, the garments
of peasants, the banners of leafy branches were not to be the permanent
furnishings of a court. He wished to secure the submission of their wills,
the complete surrender of their lives, and therefore he made this
stirring, dramatic, emotional appeal to the multitudes. He knew that
religious feeling is an aid to religious faith.
However, religious feeling is not to be confused with religious faith.
Emotion is no substitute for conviction. Jesus was not deceived. As he
caught sight of the sacred city and heard the bitter criticism of the
Pharisees, he realized the stubborn unbelief he was to encounter; he saw
his rejection and death and the consequent destruction of Jerusalem and he
pronounced his pathetic lament, “If thou hadst known in this day, even
thou, the things which belong unto peace!” He predicted the ghastly
horrors of the coming siege and the desolation of Zion and declared that
it was due to inability to see that he had come as a Saviour and that his
ministry had been a gracious visitation which might have resulted in
repentance and in continued life for the nation. It is the sad, sad lament
for what might have been.
Jesus entered the Temple and rebuked the rulers for allowing the house of
God to be desecrated by degrading traffic. As the story closes we see
Jesus standing in the center of the scene, on one hand the rulers plotting
against his life, and on his other the multitudes hanging admiringly upon
his words. Only too soon the rulers were to persuade the crowds to cry out
for his crucifixion, and we are reminded that religious feeling
unaccompanied by conviction may soon be chilled into indifference and
hate.
There were those, however, like the disciples, who never forgot this scene
of triumph. Its fuller meaning was appreciated in later years and as their
trust in Christ strengthened, they looked back with ever deeper emotions
upon the experiences of that memorable day; for it is true that religious
feeling is after all a natural and inevitable consequence of religious
faith.