_THE ENTRY INTO JERUSALEM._
"On the morrow a great multitude that had come to the feast, when
they heard that Jesus was coming to Jerusalem, took the branches of
the palm trees, and went forth to meet Him, and cried out, Hosanna:
Blessed is He that cometh in the name of the Lord, even the King of
Israel. And Jesus, having found a young ass, sat thereon; as it is
written, Fear not, daughter of Zion: behold, thy King cometh,
sitting on an ass's colt. These things understood not His disciples
at the first: but when Jesus was glorified, then remembered they
that these things were written of Him, and that they had done these
things unto Him. The multitude therefore that was with Him when He
called Lazarus out of the tomb, and raised him from the dead, bare
witness. For this cause also the multitude went and met Him, for
that they heard that He had done this sign. The Pharisees therefore
said among themselves, Behold, how ye prevail nothing: lo, the world
is gone after Him."--JOHN xii. 12-19.
If our Lord arrived in Bethany on Friday evening and spent the Sabbath
with His friends there, "the next day" of ver. 12 is Sunday; and in the
Church year this day is known as Palm Sunday, from the incident here
related. It was also the day, four days before the Passover, on which
the Jews were enjoined by the law to choose their paschal lamb. Some
consciousness of this may have guided our Lord's action. Certainly He
means finally to offer Himself to the people as the Messiah. Often as He
had evaded them before, and often as He had forbidden His disciples to
proclaim Him, He is now conscious that His hour has come, and by
entering Jerusalem as King of peace He definitely proclaims Himself the
promised Messiah. As plainly as the crowning of a new monarch and the
flourish of trumpets and the kissing of his hand by the great officers
of state proclaim him king, so unmistakably does our Lord by riding into
Jerusalem on an ass and by accepting the hosannas of the people proclaim
Himself the King promised to men through the Jews, as the King of peace
who was to win men to His rule by love and sway them by a Divine Spirit.
The scene must have been one not easily forgotten. The Mount of Olives
runs north and south parallel to the east wall of Jerusalem, and
separated from it by a gully, through which flows the brook Kidron. The
Mount is crossed by three paths. One of these is a steep footpath, which
runs direct over the crest of the hill; the second runs round its
northern shoulder; while the third crosses the southern slope. It was by
this last route the pilgrim caravans were accustomed to enter the city.
On the occasion of our Lord's entry the road was probably thronged with
visitors making their way to the great annual feast. No fewer than three
million persons are said to have been sometimes packed together in
Jerusalem at the Passover; and all of them being on holiday, were ready
for any kind of excitement. The idea of a festal procession was quite to
their mind. And no sooner did the disciples appear with Jesus riding in
their midst than the vast streams of people caught the infection of
loyal enthusiasm, tore down branches of the palms and olives which were
found in abundance by the roadside, and either waved them in the air or
strewed them in the line of march. Others unwrapped their loose cloaks
from their shoulders and spread them along the rough path to form a
carpet as He approached--a custom which is still, it seems, observed in
the East in royal processions, and which has indeed sometimes been
imported into our own country on great occasions. Thus with every
demonstration of loyalty, with ceaseless shoutings that were heard
across the valley in the streets of Jerusalem itself, and waving the
palm branches, they moved towards the city.
Those who have entered the city from Bethany by this road tell us that
there are two striking points in it. The first is when at a turn of the
broad and well-defined mountain track the southern portion of the city
comes for an instant into view. This part of the city was called "the
city of David," and the suggestion is not without probability that it
may have been at this point the multitude burst out in words that linked
Jesus with David. "Hosanna to the Son of David. Blessed is the King that
cometh in the name of the Lord. Blessed is the kingdom of our father
David. Hosanna, peace and glory in the highest." This became the
watchword of the day, so that even the boys who had come out of the city
to see the procession were heard afterwards, as they loitered in the
streets, still shouting the same refrain.
After this the road again dips, and the glimpse of the city is lost
behind the intervening ridge of Olivet; but shortly a rugged ascent is
climbed and a ledge of bare rock is reached, and in an instant the whole
city bursts into view. The prospect from this point must have been one
of the grandest of its kind in the world, the fine natural position of
Jerusalem not only showing to advantage, but the long line of city wall
embracing, like the setting of a jewel, the marvellous structures of
Herod, the polished marble and the gilded pinnacles glittering in the
morning sun and dazzling the eye. It was in all probability at this
point that our Lord was overcome with regret when He considered the sad
fate of the beautiful city, and when in place of the smiling palaces and
apparently impregnable walls His imagination filled His eye with
smoke-blackened ruins, with pavements slippery with blood, with walls
breached at all points and choked with rotting corpses.
Our Lord's choice of the ass was significant. The ass was commonly used
for riding, and the well-cared-for ass of the rich man was a very fine
animal, much larger and stronger than the little breed with which we
are familiar. Its coat, too, is as glossy as a well-kept
horse's--"shiny black, or satiny white, or sleek mouse colour." It was
not chosen by our Lord at this time that He might show His humility, for
it would have been still humbler to walk like His disciples. So far from
being a token of humility, He chose a colt which apparently had never
borne another rider. He rather meant by claiming the ass and by riding
into Jerusalem upon it to assert His royalty; but He did not choose a
horse, because that animal would have suggested royalty of quite another
kind from His--royalty which was maintained by war and outward force;
for the horse and the chariot had always been among the Hebrews symbolic
of warlike force. The disciples themselves, strangely enough, did not
see the significance of this action, although, when they had time to
reflect upon it, they remembered that Zechariah had said: "Rejoice
greatly, O daughter of Zion; shout, O daughter of Jerusalem: behold, thy
King cometh unto thee: He is just, and having salvation; lowly, and
riding upon an ass, and upon a colt the foal of an ass. And I will cut
off the chariot from Ephraim, and the horse from Jerusalem, and the
battle bow shall be cut off: and He shall speak peace unto the heathen."
When John says, "these things understood not His disciples at the
first," he cannot mean that they did not understand that Jesus by this
act claimed to be the Messiah, because even the mob perceived the
significance of this entry into Jerusalem and hailed Him "Son of David."
What they did not understand, probably, was why He chose this mode of
identifying Himself with the Messiah. At any rate, their perplexity
brings out very clearly that the conception was not suggested to Jesus.
He was not induced by the disciples nor led on by the people to make a
demonstration which He Himself scarcely approved or had not intended to
make. On the contrary, from His first recorded act that morning He had
taken command of the situation. Whatever was done was done with
deliberation, at His own instance and as His own act.[4]
This then in the first place; it was His own deliberate act. He put
Himself forward, knowing that He would receive the hosannas of the
people, and intending that He should receive them. All His backwardness
is gone; all shyness of becoming a public spectacle is gone. For this
also is to be noted--that no place or occasion could have been more
public than the Passover at Jerusalem. Whatever it was He meant to
indicate by His action, it was to the largest possible public He meant
to indicate it. No longer in the retirement of a Galilean village, nor
in a fisherman's cottage, nor in dubious or ambiguous terms, but in the
full blaze of the utmost publicity that could possibly be given to His
proclamation, and in language that could not be forgotten or
misinterpreted, He now declared Himself. He knew He must attract the
attention of the authorities, and His entrance was a direct challenge to
them.
What was it then that with such deliberation and such publicity He meant
to proclaim? What was it that in these last critical hours of His life,
when He knew He should have few more opportunities of speaking to the
people, He sought to impress upon them? What was it that, when free from
the solicitations of men and the pressure of circumstances, He sought
to declare? It was that He was the Messiah. There might be those in the
crowd who did not understand what was meant. There might be persons who
did not know Him, or who were incompetent judges of character, and
supposed He was a mere enthusiast carried away by dwelling too much on
some one aspect of Old Testament prophecy. In every generation there are
good men who become almost crazed upon some one topic, and sacrifice
everything to the promotion of one favourite hope. But however He might
be misjudged, there can be no question of His own idea of the
significance of His action. He claims to be the Messiah.
Such a claim is the most stupendous that could be made. To be the
Messiah is to be God's Viceroy and Representative on earth, able to
represent God adequately to men, and to bring about that perfect
condition which is named "the kingdom of God." The Messiah must be
conscious of ability perfectly to accomplish the will of God with man,
and to bring men into absolute harmony with God. This is claimed by
Jesus. He stands in His sober senses and claims to be that universal
Sovereign, that true King of men, whom the Jews had been encouraged to
expect, and who when He came would reign over Gentiles as well as Jews.
By this demonstration, to which His previous career had been naturally
leading up, He claims to take command of earth, of this world in all its
generations, not in the easier sense of laying down upon paper a
political constitution fit for all races, but in the sense of being able
to deliver mankind from the source of all their misery and to lift men
to a true superiority. He has gone about on earth, not secluding Himself
from the woes and ways of men, not delicately isolating Himself, but
exposing Himself freely to the touch of the malignities, the
vulgarities, the ignorance and wickedness of all; and He now claims to
rule all this, and implies that earth can present no complication of
distress or iniquity which he cannot by the Divine forces within Him
transform into health and purity and hope.
This then is His deliberate claim. He quietly but distinctly proclaims
that He fulfils all God's promise and purpose among men; is that
promised King who was to rectify all things, to unite men to Himself,
and to lead them on to their true destiny; to be practically God upon
earth, accessible to men and identified with all human interests. Many
have tested His claim and have proved its validity. By true allegiance
to Him many have found that they have gained the mastery over the world.
They have entered into peace, have felt eternal verities underneath
their feet, and have attained a connection with God such as must be
everlasting. They are filled with a new spirit towards men and see all
things with purged eyes. Not abruptly and unintelligibly, by leaps and
bounds, but gradually and in harmony with the nature of things, His
kingdom is extending. Already His Spirit has done much: in time His
Spirit will everywhere prevail. It is by Him and on the lines which He
has laid down that humanity is advancing to its goal.
This was the claim He made; and this claim was enthusiastically admitted
by the popular instinct.[5] The populace was not merely humouring in
holiday mood a whimsical person for their own diversion. Many of them
knew Lazarus and knew Jesus, and taking the matter seriously gave the
tone to the rest. The people indeed did not, any more than the
disciples, understand how different the kingdom of their expectation was
from the kingdom Jesus meant to found. But while they entirely
misapprehended the purpose for which He was sent, they believed that He
was sent by God: His credentials were absolutely satisfactory, His work
incomprehensible. But as yet they still thought He must be of the same
mind as themselves regarding the work of the Messiah. To His claim,
therefore, the response given by the people was loud and demonstrative.
It was indeed a very brief reign they accorded to their King, but their
prompt acknowledgment of Him was the instinctive and irrepressible
expression of what they really felt to be His due. A popular
demonstration is notoriously untrustworthy, always running to extremes,
necessarily uttering itself with a loudness far in excess of individual
conviction, and gathering to itself the loose and floating mass of
people who have no convictions of their own, and are thankful to any one
who leads them and gives them a cue, and helps them to feel that they
have after all a place in the community. Who has not stood by as an
onlooker at a public demonstration and smiled at the noise and glare
that a mass of people will produce when their feelings are ever so
little stirred, and marked how even against their own individual
sentiments they are carried away by the mere tide of the day's
circumstances, and for the mere sake of making a demonstration? This
crowd which followed our Lord with shoutings very speedily repented and
changed their shouts into a far blinder shriek of rage against Him who
had been the occasion of their folly. And it must indeed have been a
humbling experience for our Lord to have Himself ushered into Jerusalem
by a crowd through whose hosannas He already heard the mutter of their
curses. Such is the homage He has to content Himself with--such is the
homage a perfect life has won.
For He knew what was in man; and while His disciples might be deceived
by this popular response to His claim, He Himself was fully aware how
little it could be built upon. Save in His own heart, there is no
premonition of death. More than ever in His life before does His sky
seem bright without a cloud. He Himself is in His early prime with life
before Him; His followers are hopeful, the multitude jubilant; but
through all this gay enthusiasm He sees the scowling hate of the priests
and scribes; the shouting of the multitude does not drown in His ear the
mutterings of a Judas and of the Sanhedrim. He knew that the throne He
was now hailed to was the cross, that His coronation was the reception
on His own brows of all the thorns and stings and burdens that man's sin
had brought into the world. He did not fancy that the redemption of the
world to God was an easy matter which could be accomplished by an
afternoon's enthusiasm. He kept steadily before His mind the actual
condition of the men who were by His spiritual influence to become the
willing and devoted subjects of God's kingdom. He measured with accuracy
the forces against Him, and understood that His warfare was not with the
legions of Rome, against whom this Jewish patriotism and indomitable
courage and easily roused enthusiasm might tell, but with principalities
and powers a thousandfold stronger, with the demons of hatred and
jealousy, of lust and worldliness, of carnality and selfishness. Never
for a moment did He forget His true mission and sell His spiritual
throne, hard-earned as it was to be, for popular applause and the
glories of the hour. Knowing that only by the utmost of human goodness
and self-sacrifice, and by the utmost of trial and endurance, could any
true and lasting rule of men be gained, He chose this path and the
throne it led to. With the most comprehensive view of the kingdom He was
to found, and with a spirit of profound seriousness strangely
contrasting in its composed and self-possessed insight with the blind
tumult around Him, He claimed the crown of the Messiah. His suffering
was not formal and nominal, it was not a mere pageant; equally real was
the claim He now made and which brought Him to that suffering.