LUKE 19:28-38

Luke 19:28-38

In our continuing study of the gospel of Luke, we finally arrive to Jerusalem – at the so-called Triumphal Entry. I say finally because this has been a six-month journey which began in Luke 9 and finishes in Luke 19. Ten chapters. And, while it took Jesus and the disciples six months, it’s taken us about a year and a half to get through those ten chapters. Now, this is a momentous event – recorded in all four gospels, which is unusual – only the feeding of the five thousand, the circumstances around the death, burial and resurrection, and this story take place in all four.

It’s been a long, six-month journey from Caesarea Philippi, the farthest point north in Israel, to Jerusalem – about 135 miles south if you went directly, but we’ve seen Jesus and His disciples took a rather circuitous route – likely three hundred miles or more. As I said, the journey began in Luke 9:51, which reads, “When the days were approaching for His ascension, He was determined to go to Jerusalem.” He’s returning to heaven, but He had to go through Jerusalem. And what’s interesting is, along the way, starting at the beginning up in Caesarea Philippi, He began telling the disciples what awaited Him when He arrived. Also in chapter 9, He said, “The Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed and be raised again on the third day.” There would be a cross before the crown.

Putting the four gospel accounts together, we find there were three major, explicit predictions of what would happen in Jerusalem. The last one in Luke was in chapter 18, right before Jericho where He healed Bartimeus and saved Zaccheus, Jesus pulled His disciples aside and said, 31 “Behold, we are going up to Jerusalem, and all things which are written through the prophets about the Son of Man will be accomplished. 32 “For He will be handed over to the Gentiles, and will be mocked and mistreated and spit upon, 33 and after they have scourged Him, they will kill Him; and the third day He will rise again.”

In Matthew 20, He actually said His death would be by Roman crucifixion. So, put yourself in the pre-cross sandals of the disciples. They had to wonder, if that’s what awaits You, why go? No one – certainly not the Jewish leadership, not the pilgrims thronging to Passover that fateful week, not even the disciples – no one seemed to understand what was going on – why He made the journey to Jerusalem when He knew what awaited.

Last week, we found, despite the passion predictions, the disciples were still confused, thinking they were going to Jerusalem to set up the kingdom. Nope, Jesus said. And He gave them the parable of the minas so they’d know there would be a period of time between His ascension and second coming. He was going away; there would be no fullness of the kingdom until He returns.

Well, back to the so-called triumphal entry. I say so-called, because the term is not used in the Bible. You say, well, the heading in my Bible, right before the story, calls it that. Of course, you understand the titles and notes in your Bible are not inspired – they’re there to help us understand – to help us know what we’re reading. If they’re right. You see, that’s what you think of – the triumphal entry, but is it?

Who called it the triumphal entry? Where did it come from? Try as I might, I couldn’t find when that name was first used. It wasn’t in any of my many church history books. The earliest I could find it was in the 1880’s. Before then it was called Palm Sunday. I suppose that name is fine – most of us know it refers to this Sunday when Jesus entered Jerusalem near the end of His ministry. As He rode into town, according to John, the crowds cut down palm branches to spread before Him – hence the name, Palm Sunday. I found that name was used as early as the 4th Century. In fact, even earlier, Christians would gather on the Mount of Olives outside Jerusalem and make their way in procession to commemorate the event.

But Triumphal Entry? What? Now, there were and are many such processions of important people into grand cities which have caused a stir. Going all the way to Alexander the Great 360 years before Jesus, who rode his mighty white stallion into Jerusalem. Now that was a spectacle. This is the description Josephus gives of Alexander’s entrance into the city that day. He was 23, at the peak of his physical prime. Long before he arrived, the stage was set. First, 2,000 mounted lancers rode in, their lances pointing to the sky. The thunder of their hooves shook the ground. Then, 2,000 trumpeters followed. Row after row, their mighty blasts bounced off the stone walls and streets of the city, echoing back even from the Mount of Olives. Next came 500 chariots, polished to reflect the noon-day sun. The choking dust and the rumble of their wheels only accentuated their power. Then hundreds of swordsmen with weapons raised marched along followed by 39,000 regular foot-soldiers with spears and bows. Dressed in crimson suits, the heavy tramp of their boots vibrated the ground.

Another large group of trumpets heralded the king himself. In rode Alexander the Great on his great white stallion named Bucephalus, the most famous of ancient steeds. Everyone knew Bucephalus. The white-plumed brass helmet sat on his head like a crown. A red cape hung from his shoulders. (S on his chest) It was a dazzling display of pageantry and power. Alexander set the standard for every conqueror, every king to follow.

Talk about a triumphal entry. In fact, we borrow the word triumph from the Greek which means to lead in triumph. Later, after Alexander, during Roman times, the Latin word triumph would describe a public celebration to welcome home a victorious general. The general would enter the city preceded by the Roman senate. Following would be his armies, decked out for the occasion. Bringing up the rear would be the captives and prisoners of war in chains, displayed as the spoils of victory. Crowds would line the streets, giving ovations, shouts of acclaim, throwing flowers, and burning incense. The sights and smells were overwhelming – your senses assaulted. When Julius Caesar returned to Rome from Gaul, the parade lasted three full days. Alexander the Great, Julius Caesar, those were triumphal entries. Not to mention the more modern processions of kings and queens – Queen Victoria, Queen Elizabeth – look them up. They were stunning parades before and after their coronations – everyone straining to get a glimpse of the monarch.

But on this day in history, at His coronation if you will, because the crowds will cry out, here comes the king, Jesus, a peasant carpenter, of no apparent royal descent – a Galilean from Nazareth, no less – jumped on the colt of a donkey, road into Jerusalem, and turned the place upside down. Turned the world upside down to the present day.

Listen, Jesus had been to Jerusalem before – many times, usually during one of the Jewish feast days. And His presence would typically cause a stir – which usually involved infuriating the scribes and Pharisees – you know, healing people on the Sabbath, calling them hypocrites – things like that. In fact, the last time He was there, they sought to kill Him.

But this first Palm Sunday, this triumphal entry, was different. He rode into Jerusalem, and the place went nuts. We read about it in our text today – Luke 19:28-38.

Does that sound like a triumphal entry to you? He’s riding a baby donkey on peasant coats. Blessed is the king – that’s the king?

I cannot overstate the importance of this story. You see, it commences the week we know as Passion Week. It was the reason for which He had come – to seek and to save that which was lost, to give His life as a ransom for many. I will tell you many times as we make our way through this day and the week to follow – this is the week of all weeks, leading to the weekend of all weekends – the death, burial and resurrection of Jesus Christ. And He set His face, He went resolutely to Jerusalem knowing what awaited. This is it. It’s why a full third of the gospel narratives cover this last week of His life. The first 18½ chapters of Luke have been preparation. They have proven who He was and is – living a perfect life, performing many miracles and giving many amazing teachings. But now, we arrive at the main event. No outline today. I’m just going to tell the story the way it happened.

As Jesus and His disciples approached Jerusalem, Jesus instructed two unnamed disciples to go into the village ahead of them – likely Bethphage, a small hamlet at the foot of the Mount of Olives, and get a colt – Matthew tells us a colt of a donkey and its mother. That’s interesting. You see, some want to say Jesus was just a good man who got carried away. He was doing some good things, and then one day, He went to Jerusalem like every good Jew, and the crowds got carried away, and before you knew it, He was swept away in a drama – with a part He didn’t really want to play. He never intended everything to happen the way it did that week.

Does it look that way in the last ten chapters? Notice, it was Jesus who sent His disciples to the village to get the colt. He was aware of the prophecy of Zechariah 9 which said the Messiah would ride into town on the colt of a donkey. Which means, Jesus chose this. He knocked over the domino that would begin the chain of events of Passion week. This didn’t catch Him by surprise – He chose it. He started it – and it led to His crucifixion.

You see, the first two things Jesus did upon arriving at the city were very public, with messianic overtones and authority. The time for the messianic secret is over. First, He’ll ride into Jerusalem per Zechariah 9 on the colt of a donkey with Galilean crowds proclaiming Him to be the King, the Son of David. Then, second, He’ll go to the Temple – the heart of Jewish worship – and make a mess. Quite public. Jesus knew what He was doing. He was throwing down the gauntlet, and challenging the religious leadership that had opposed Him to respond. He’s done playing their games. He’s in control of everything that happens this week.
The two disciples go to the village. He said, if anyone asks what you’re doing, simply respond, “The Lord has need of it.” That’s also intriguing. Was it a prearranged signal prepared with the owners – if you see a couple of guys taking your colt, ask them what they’re doing. If they say, The Lord has need of it – that’s the password – you’ll know it’s for Me. No evidence of that, although it’s possible. More likely, as God in the flesh, He knew what would happen. And when the owners asked and they responded, it’s for the Lord – the owners somehow knew the Lord, not just our master – no, the Lord who created heaven and earth, who owns the cattle on a thousand hills, the one who really owns this donkey and her colt – has need of it, they said okay.

As the disciples returned with the colt, they spread coats on it as a makeshift saddle. That’s nice, but more, it was a sign of their humble submission to His sovereign right to rule. They placed Jesus on the never-before-ridden colt. Meaning it had not been defiled by anyone – it was sacred. Then, they placed Jesus on it. Luke’s the only one that says that – what’s that about? It was another symbol of submission. They enthroned Him. You ever watch a football game – especially college football – after they win a big game, they lift the coach up on their shoulders to parade him around the field to honor him. That’s the idea, only infinitely greater.

Then Jesus rode the colt into town. The indication is there were crowds of disciples following Him from Bethany and then the news spread He was coming, and a large crowd came out to meet Him. As He came, they spread their cloaks before Him – symbolic of His sovereignty. They then cut branches from trees, John tells us palm trees, to make a path. Palm branches were typically used during the Feast of Booths and the Feast of Dedication – times of celebration. Earlier, when Simon Maccabeus, the hammer, led the Jews into Jerusalem after freeing it from the Syrians, they waved palm branches – so by this time, palm branches were seen as symbols of victory to embrace a conqueror. There were even coins minted with palm leaves – a national symbol of victory.

They began to praise God joyfully with a loud voice for all the miracles they had seen. Which miracles? Tons of them – these were followers from all over. But likely the most recent miracles – giving sight to Bartimeus’ blind eyes. Of raising Lazarus from the dead. That’s important, because John tells us that’s why many in the crowd were there – they had heard about Lazarus – he was likely in the crowd of followers, and they’d never seen a dead man walking. In fact, John 12 tells us the Jewish leadership planned to kill Lazarus as well as Jesus, because his being raised from the dead caused many to follow Jesus.

They started shouting [Hosanna] “Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord; Peace in heaven and glory in the highest.” The first part of that is a quote of Psalm 118, one of the Hallel Psalms, which was a psalm of deliverance. In fact, Psalm 118 was often called the conqueror’s psalm. Everyone knew it – it was sung every morning by the Temple Choir during the Feast of Booths a few months before. Here, it probably started with just a few people saying it. But it soon caught on, and many were now saying it about Jesus. Matthew tells us the whole city was stirred. We’ll come back to that.

But notice, they also said, Peace in heaven and glory in the highest. Does that sound familiar? It’s very close to what the angels said at Jesus’ birth, “Glory to God in the highest, on earth peace among men with whom He is pleased.” Glory to God – and peace on earth and in heaven – made possible by Jesus through His cross – reconciling humankind to God.

There’s something else you need to know. Jerusalem was teeming with visitors this particular week. It was the Feast of Passover. Jewish law required every male go to Jerusalem to observe a major feast at least once a year. The Passover Feast was one of the most popular. Again, the historian Josephus tells us during a Passover about this time, over 270,000 Passover lambs were sacrificed. One lamb was enough for ten people. If that number was even close to correct, then it’s possible Jerusalem swelled to over 2 million people when Jesus arrived. It was literally an ocean of people during this week. The roads would have been full of visitors making their way to the city, carrying their lambs. Little did they know the Passover Lamb was among them. Jesus was one among hundreds of thousands arriving.

But, why did His arrival among so many cause a stir? Well, maybe it was because He rode into town on the colt of a donkey. I doubt it – the disciples spread their coats over the colt – it was a baby donkey – a menial beast of burden, no dignity, not much of a symbol of majestic royalty and power. So why would the crowds respond the way they did? Did they remember Zechariah 9 – no, John will tell us they didn’t understand it until after He was glorified – resurrected and ascended. We’ll come back to that. They were caught up in a euphoria – looking for the Messiah. Could this be Him?

Now, you have to figure at this point the disciples were looking at each other thinking, maybe Jesus was wrong. Maybe it isn’t going to be suffering and death. Maybe He’s going to be crowned king after all. Maybe they were even secretly bumping fists. This could be better than Galilee. It was really quite the display, wasn’t it? But really, let’s compare it with a real triumphal entry, shall we?

Alexander rode into Jerusalem on a white stallion named Bucephalus, meaning Oxhead. Symbolizing strength and dignity, it was the most famous of ancient steeds. Jesus rides into Jerusalem on a donkey. Not even really a donkey – the colt, the baby of a donkey. I can see His feet dragging the ground on each side. I’m not trying to be disrespectful here – I just want you to get the picture. Oh, but, then we remember the kingdom Jesus came to bring.

Alexander is dressed in a brass helmet, white plume, red cape. Jesus comes in, helmet-less, dressed in the clothes of a Galilean peasant – an itinerant preacher, who, remember, had no place to lay His head. Alexander follows an impressive army. Lances, swords, bows and arrows. Chariots, cavalry, soldiers, trumpeters. Who accompanies Jesus?

As He made His way to Jerusalem, He was no doubt accompanied by the Twelve. Remember them? Valiant soldiers, they were. In a few days, one of the most valiant of them is going to take a sword and with a mighty flurry, cut off Malchus’ ear. Valiant soldiers indeed – former fishermen, tax collectors – there was at least one Zealot. There was even a thief among them. They were Galileans – they wouldn’t be respected by the Jews of Jerusalem.

His entourage was completed by formerly blind, maimed, crippled, leprous, dead people. Bartimaeus would have been there – Jesus had just healed him in Jericho. Zaccheus would have been there – he was the little tax collector who had just decided to follow Jesus days before. Lazarus would have been there, since Jesus had just raised him from the dead. That’s all important to understand what’s going on here. Yeah, there were thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands of people there that day. But they weren’t impressed with Jesus – they were just impressed with His tricks. That’s the picture – former prostitutes, sinners, tax collectors, former sick people, possessed people, outsiders – not much of a processional.

Instead of flowers and incense, there were only the cloaks of peasants and branches cut from nearby trees. Instead of the sounding of trumpets, there was only the sound of common people, crying out, “Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord!”

And finally, it was obvious to everyone who Alexander was when He rode in. That’s what the parade was about – to set the stage for the entrance of the king. When Jesus rode in, while the crowd began shouting, some didn’t even know who Jesus was. In Matthew’s account, they ask, “Who is this?” You almost get the idea the crowd was caught away in the excitement of the moment. Everyone had gathered for Passover, which celebrated the exodus – their deliverance from Egypt. They were looking for a Messiah. They were in a deliverance mood. “Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord.” Hey, did you hear? Cool – the Messiah might be riding into town. Here He comes. By the way, who is it?

Triumphal entry? If this is truly the triumphal entry, a coronation, as some call it, of the King of kings, it has to be the most pathetic triumphal entry, the most pathetic coronation on record, with Dollar General balloons and ribbons.

What’s going on? The crowds were yelling, “Crown Him!” but by the end of the week, they would be yelling “Crucify Him!” The crowd claiming Him as their King, at the end of the week, would be saying, “We have no king but Caesar.” In the other texts, a crowd proclaiming “Hosanna!” which means “Save us now!”, would now be saying, “You who saved others, why don’t you come down off the cross and save yourself.”

Triumphal entry? You bet it was. Because in entering Jerusalem, He set in motion the events that would culminate in Good Friday – His death and burial; leading to the event of all time three days later – His Resurrection.

You see, Jesus came as a victorious conqueror, but not like the ones the world was used to, not like the one the Jews expected. Triumphal entry? Yes. He came as a conqueror, in fulfillment of the prophecy in Zechariah 9:9, “Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion! Shout in triumph, O daughter of Jerusalem! Behold, your king is coming to you; He is just and endowed with salvation, Humble, and mounted on a donkey, Even on a colt, the foal of a donkey.” Now, why did He have to fulfill that prophecy? Why couldn’t Jesus have come on a mighty white horse, regally dressed, with a mighty army?

Because, while the first 8 verses of Zechariah 9 talked about the mighty conquests of Alexander the Great, the verses which follow talk about a different kind of conqueror. Their king, our king would come riding on a colt of a donkey. Rather than a beast of conquest, the one bearing Him was a beast of humility and peace. It spoke of the nature of the kingdom He came to bring. He would come in gentle, not crushing; gentle, not cruel. And that is a picture of the kingdom He offers. If you’re looking for a different kind of king, you’ll miss Him. He came on a donkey, and went straight to the cross. Behold your Conqueror King, church.

I know as I describe that, some of you are thinking not of the past, but of the future – when Jesus returns to earth. This time, Revelation 19 says, He won’t be on a donkey. He will be on a white horse. He won’t come in peasant clothing, but in a robe dipped in blood. His eyes will be a flame of fire, and on His head will be a crown of many diadems. And following Him will be the armies of heaven, clothed in fine linen, white and clean, riding on white horses. And on His thigh will be a name written: King of kings, and Lord of lords. There will be no confusion then. He will come as a warrior king.

But…not the first time. He came, not to take life, but to give life. You see, the Jews thought their Messiah, when He came, would be a military conqueror. They much preferred an Alexander-type Messiah – one who would throw off the tyranny of Rome. But when Jesus came, He was not so much concerned with Rome’s tyranny – He was concerned with the tyranny of sin. He came, not to free people from slavery to Rome, but from slavery to sin. Yes, this was a triumphal entry, but not one they expected. This King came to give His life up for His people. His kingdom was not like the kingdoms of this world. His was an eternal, spiritual kingdom. And as we’ve seen, it’s not made up of the mighty, the strong, the noble. It’s made of outsiders. The poor, the broken, the mourning, the gentle, the hungry, the thirsty.

And He continues to communicate to us, His followers, that His kingdom is a different kind of kingdom. No opulence, no regal splendor, no outlandish displays of wealth and strength – just a humble king, who came not to be served, but to serve, and give His life a ransom for many.

Triumphal entries. Jesus and Alexander. Both rode triumphantly into Jerusalem. Both died at age 33. However, that’s where the similarities end. One lived for himself, the other died for all. The Macedonian died on a throne, the Jew on a cross. One led vast armies, the other walked alone. The Macedonian shed blood. The Jew gave His blood. Greater love has no man than this, that one lay down His life for His friends. One made slaves, the other set people free. The Macedonian conquered every throne, the Jew every grave. Alexander won the world in life, but lost it in eternity. Jesus gave His life, but won it for us for eternity. Alexander, the conqueror is dead, but through Jesus, death is conquered.

Triumphal entry? You bet. Behold your King, church. And there is coming a day when the cries of “Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord” will be changed to, “Worthy is the Lamb that was slain.”