The Triumphal Entry

S. Mark xi. 1–11

Our Lord arrived at Bethany on the eve of the Sabbath. That day He desired to spend in retirement, to prepare Himself for the great events of the coming week. He could have found nowhere else such a fitting place, for it has been well called “the picture of seclusion and holy peace.” It was the home of the family He loved most on earth, — of Martha and Mary and the risen Lazarus. How the day was passed, whether He visited the synagogue or remained apart in secret communing with His Father, we are not told; but as soon almost as the morrow dawned the little village was astir with excitement. Some of those who had travelled in His company from Jericho had gone on to Jerusalem, and spread the news of His approach far and wide. It was little more than a month 1 since He had restored Lazarus to life. Such a miracle as that must have raised His fame to the highest pitch, and being still fresh in their memories, would quicken the curiosity of the people to see Him. And now it was rumoured that the Great Wonder-worker was amongst them again. As soon then as the Sabbath rest was over, crowds nocked out from the city, and these, together with the pilgrims who had halted at Bethany on their way to the Feast, gathered round Him as He started for His solemn entry into the city.

It marks the greatest epoch in our Lord’s life. From this moment an entire change passed over His conduct. Hitherto He had deliberately rejected every act of homage from His subjects. It is true that the consciousness of His authority had frequently asserted itself, but there had been no open claim for its public recognition. When they desired to take Him by force and make Him a king, He had withdrawn into privacy to defeat their purpose. When for the encouragement of the favoured Apostles He had given a momentary revelation of His Divine glory, it was followed by a solemn injunction that they should “tell the vision to no man.” But now all is changed; and it is no mere acceptance of proffered homage, no concurrence in a popular demonstration, but the initiation proceeds from Himself.

They had barely started on their journey, when He sent forward two of His disciples to the village 3 over-against them, in search of an ass’s colt, on which He might ride in triumph into His city. The ancient prophecy had foretold that the King of Jerusalem should come to Zion, not driving in chariots like other kings, neither mounted upon a horse, the symbol of war, but as befitted the Prince of Peace, “meek and lowly, and riding upon an ass, and upon a colt the foal of an ass.”

The messengers found exactly as He had said. The ass was “standing without in a place where two ways met,” 1 or as it might be more properly interpreted, at the road which. led round to the back of the house. It is one of those vivid touches which betray the hand of an eye-witness, and it suggests the probability that S. Peter, from whom the Evangelist received his information, was ’ himself one of the unnamed messengers on our Lord’s errand.

We are surprised that the owners should have so readily acquiesced in their demand. There is however a reading in some of the oldest MSS. which certainly lessens the difficulty, for it puts into the mouth of the disciples an assurance that their Master would return the ass to its owners, when it had served the purpose for which He needed it. “If any man say unto you, Why do:. ye this? say ye that the Lord hath need of him, and will send him back again.” However it was, their request was complied with, and they started to meet Jesus with “the colt whereon never man had sat.” At once a new enthusiasm seized the wayfaring throng. It may have been that the prophecy which had prompted Jesus to send for the ass was not unknown to them; for in an instant they seemed to recognise Him as their King. They could not turn that narrow mountain path into a royal road, but they unwrapped their loose cloaks, and stretched them on the ground for their King to pass over. It was the very homage that Israel of old had paid when “they hasted, and took every man his garment, and put it under him on the top of the stairs, and blew with trumpets, saying, Jehu is king.”

Those who had come up from Jerusalem brought palms in their hands, branches which they had plucked from the gardens of Olivet on the way; and they cast them down at His feet to do honour to their King, and then turned and went before Him. Suddenly at a bend of the road, the first glimpse of the city — one small portion only — met their eyes as they wound round the hill. It was but a momentary and a partial glimpse, but it was Mount Zion, on which David’s palaces had been built, and which was called emphatically “the city of David.”

That was enough; for the incident struck the excited multitude, as it could hardly fail to do, and shouts of triumph broke forth from every lip. “Hosanna.” x It was the cry of the people, the holy “hurrah” at the great feast of joy — the loud acclaim with which the heavens were made to ring again, when the pilgrims flocked through the streets with their branches or torches at the Tabernacle Festival.

“Hosanna to the Son of David.” It was the prayer for safety, the sacred “viva” for the heir to the Messianic throne about to be established. “Blessed is He that cometh in the name of the Lord.” “The coming age” had dawned, and “He that should come” had now appeared in His kingdom, and this was their recognition that prophecy had been fulfilled. “Hosanna in the highest.” It expressed the belief of the enthusiastic crowds that heaven would join with earth in the recognition of His claims. And amidst such loud acclamations the King of the Jews entered Jerusalem. The protests of the Pharisees fell on ears that heard not, or were ignored with a righteous disdain, for nothing could stay the stream of popular enthusiasm. And He Who came as King into His capital, in fulfilment of what had been written, would show Himself also as Priest, and, as Malachi had foretold, “come suddenly to His temple.” He was unrecognised by those who should have been the first to welcome Him, but when priests and Levites held their peace, His praise was perfected “out of the mouth of babes and sucklings,” for the children, hardly knowing perhaps what they were doing, took up the cry which they had heard in the streets, and shouted aloud, “Hosanna to the Son of David.”

S. Mark, contrary to expectation, has passed over unnoticed an incident which must have left an ineffaceable mark upon the memory of an eye-witness. We should have expected that it would occupy a prominent place in the narrative wherever the story of the Triumphal Entry would be told; but neither he ’ nor S. Matthew have given us the picture of the most touching scene in sacred history, — the Saviour of the world weeping over the city in which He was going to suffer and to die. We are indebted for this to S. Luke alone, but it is noticed here, if only to point the moral of the strange and wonderful scene we have been witnessing. “And when He was come near, He beheld the city, and wept over it.”

How was it that in the midst of all that homage, that worship and honour to the King of kings, He had thoughts of trouble and sadness? It was because He could see into futurity. That enthusiasm was all hollow and evanescent. Their King in glory to-day — their Victim in shame to-morrow! But five days more, and all would be changed. The palmbranches of Sunday would be turned into thorns on Good Friday. Now they were eager to spread their garments before Him, then they would strip Him even of His Own. Now it is “Hosanna to the Son of David,” — when four more suns have set it will be “Crucify Him, crucify Him;” “not this man, but Barabbas.”

And He saw the vengeance that would overtake them. He saw them outcast from their home, wanderers upon the face of the earth, a byword in every land, an undying monument of the punishment that will come upon those who neglect the warnings of God and refuse to receive His Only Begotten Son.

Note: This had taken place about midway between the Feast of Dedication in the month Kislev (December) and the Passover. After that, Jesus retired to Ephraim, where He continued till His last journey to Jerusalem. — S. John xiii. 54.

Note: In the crowded state of Jerusalem it was a common practice for those who came up to the Feasts to lodge in the neighbouring villages, and to camp out on the Mount of Olives.

Note: In all probability it was Bethphage, which, according to general belief, was about three-quarters of a mile nearer Jerusalem than Bethany. But Lightfoot supposes that it was the name of a district.

Note: The common translation is from the Vulg. bivium.

Note: Cf. p. 2.

Note: koX evdews avrbv clttogt 4lei (X A B C D) irdXiv $5e (X B C D). It makes it part of the message which they were charged to deliver. So Orlgen understood it in his Commentary.

Note: It is found in the closing Psalm of the Hallel, cxviii., which was sung at the Feast of Tabernacles. It means “Save now,” or “Save, we pray:” LXX. crCiaov Sr/. - To add to the festive character of the gathering every one wore the lulav — a spray of palm or willow or myrtle by day, and carried a torch by night.