And when they draw near to Jerusalem, to Bethphage and Bethany, at the mount of Olives, he sends two of his disciples,
Mark's account of the last week opens as Jesus closes in on Jerusalem and stops at two villages east of the city. From there He sends two disciples ahead on an errand He has planned in detail, as the King prepares to present Himself to His own city.
One writer places this journey between the work He had finished and the work still ahead:
The Saviour now sets out on His last journey to Jerusalem. As far as testimony went, this was His final presentation of Himself as the Messiah. He had finished His prophetic work, and the people refused it. The great work of atonement still lay ahead. Between the two comes His royal procession, we may call it, to the city of the Great King.
The errand from Bethphage sets up a prophecy:
As they come near to Jerusalem, preparation is made for the Lord to present Himself to Israel as the Son of David. This fulfils the prophecy of Zechariah (Zech. 9:9). It was a fresh witness to the glory of the Lord and a last testimony to the people. Coming as the King He acts with kingly authority.
The two villages are not just names on a map. One writer finds meaning in both, and in the errand that starts here:
So they come near to Jerusalem, to Bethphage (the "house of unripe figs") and Bethany (the "house of affliction" or "humiliation"). Both names mean something for Him. Now He sends two of His disciples to bring Him the colt He is to ride into Jerusalem, proclaiming His Kingdom of peace.
Bethany was more than a stop on the road. It was the one place near Jerusalem where He was welcome:
A village on the eastern slope of the Mount of Olives, about 2 miles from Jerusalem, near the road to Jericho. Lazarus, Martha, and Mary lived there. In their house the Lord found a resting place, among people He loved. They were always ready to welcome Him and to give Him the best of what they had. It was from or near Bethany that the Lord ascended.
This hill gathers up Israel's whole story — past, present and future:
In Zechariah 14 the Lord appears to deliver them, in the place from which the "glory" of the God of Israel departed... From the same place He had entered Jerusalem as their King, according to this prophet (Zech. 9:9), riding on a donkey's colt. On the same Mount of Olives He sat, in Matthew 24, surrounded by His Jewish disciples, after He had left His nation... His nation rejected Him and crucified Him. Then from that same mountain He ascended to heaven (Acts 1). And on that same mountain His feet will stand when He returns to deliver them fully and completely in grace!
Nobody suggested this to Jesus. He arranged it Himself, down to the location of the animal:
But who suggested that? The crowd did not bring an animal richly decorated. The disciples had not prepared the colt, nor asked the Lord to mount it. The Lord took the initiative by sending two of His disciples to the entrance of Bethphage to get it... Zechariah had foretold that the foal would be available for the King's use. The Lord told them exactly where it was standing at that moment.
The two disciples are sent with an answer ready, in case anyone challenges them:
If anyone asked why the disciples were untying the colt, it was enough to answer, "The Lord has need of it," and every question would stop at once. That is what happened, and so it will be in the coming day of glory, when it will be true of Zion that "Your people will offer themselves freely on the day of your power" (Ps. 110:3).
- Timing — This is His last public presentation as Messiah. The prophetic ministry was finished and refused. The atoning work still lay ahead. This royal approach stands between the two.
- Fulfilment — The colt was not improvised. The errand fulfils Zechariah 9:9 and gives the nation a last testimony.
- Names — Bethphage means "house of unripe figs" and Bethany "house of affliction." Both names meant something for Him. Yet Bethany was also the home where He was loved and welcomed.
- Place — The Mount of Olives ties four things together: the glory that departed, the King who entered, the Lord who ascended, and the feet that will stand there again.
- Authority — "The Lord has need of it" was answer enough to stop every question. One day Zion's people will offer themselves just as freely.
and says to them, Go into the village which is over against you, and immediately on entering into it ye will find a colt tied, upon which no [child] of man has ever sat loose it and lead it [here].
The Lord is about to enter Jerusalem for the last time, and He starts by sending two disciples for a colt that no one has ever ridden. Everything hangs on two questions: does He already know it is there, and what right has He to another man's animal?
The errand is not a detail before the entry; it is the entry.
As they came near to Jerusalem, preparations begin for presenting the Lord to Israel as the Son of David. This fulfils the prophecy of Zechariah (Zech. 9:9). This was a fresh witness to the glory of the Lord and a last testimony to the people. Coming as the King, He acts with a king's authority.
Nobody suggested this to Him.
The Lord took the initiative by sending two of His disciples to the entrance of Bethphage to get it. Mark tells us the foal was there, tied at a door outside in the open street... He told them where to find it, what to do, and what to say to the owners. Zechariah had foretold that the foal would be available for the King's use. The Lord made known where it was standing at that moment.
In anyone else, sending two men to untie an animal they do not own would be theft. Here the right rests on who He is.
This act of the Lord flashes out once more His glory and shows that the King-Messiah is Jehovah. He knew that over there was a donkey tied with a colt, just as He knew the fish and the piece of silver in the sea... He demands the use of the donkey and the colt. He has a right to them, for He is the Creator. He can say, as He has said: "For every beast of the forest is mine, and the cattle on a thousand hills."
Commentators differ on how much weight the title carries. Gaebelein reads it as Jehovah's own claim. William Kelly thinks the word is left open on purpose, and points to God's hand on the people who watched.
It is above all a scene under the governing hand of God. He would and did control the feelings of those who watched the colt being taken. In the same way He later directed the deeds and shouts of the crowd along the road... I suspect "the Lord" is here left vague on purpose. The Lord had need of the donkey's colt, whether they applied the title to Jehovah or to the king who came in His name.
The claim is real, but it is not confiscation.
The owners saw the disciples untying the colt, and asked the reason. They answered as the Master had directed: "The Lord has need of him, and He will send him back here at once." So it seems Mark wrote (11:3). The words show that the Master needed the colt for a short time only. He would return it when He was done with it.
An unbroken colt should have thrown a rider, especially in a shouting crowd. Instead it carries Him quietly. One writer reads the whole sequence — tied, loosed, ridden — as a picture of what happens to a person.
The colt was unbroken, for no man had sat on it, and so it was tied up under restraint. It was loosed from restraint, but only so that He might sit on it. Under His powerful hand it was perfectly restrained. This is a parable of how grace sets us free from the bondage of the law.
The same picture is pressed further: the untamed creature stands for a stubborn nation, and its docility for what is still to come.
The colt of a donkey is surely a picture of Israel in her unbroken state of rebellion, yet held back by being tied (under bondage to law)... They untie the colt, so that the Lord Jesus might have rightful control... The Lord Jesus takes the reins, and the donkey becomes completely docile. How precious is this picture of what His grace can do in the heart of a stubborn person! It is also a picture of what Psalm 110:3 says about Israel in the future — that His people will be willing in the day of His power.
The One who owns the cattle on a thousand hills asks for a borrowed donkey.
The Lord had need of that colt, and He knew who the owner was and that His need would meet with a ready response. He was the Servant of the will of God. He knew where to find everything His service needed — the donkey in this chapter, the guest-chamber in Mark 14, and other things at other times.
- Need. He asks for a colt He already owns as Creator. The owners hear that the Lord has need of it, and they let it go.
- Knowledge. He named the village, the animal and the tether in advance, and He told the two what to say. Prophecy promised a foal; He said where it stood.
- Loosed. The colt was tied and held back. They untied it for one purpose: that Christ might take the reins. Freedom here means coming under His hand.
- Willing. The owners hand it over and the crowd's shouts fall into place. God moved every heart involved — a foretaste of the day when His people will be willing.
- Returned. He borrows and sends back. The King's absolute claim never turns into robbery — He takes only what He needs, and only for as long as He needs it.
And if any one say to you, Why do ye this? say, The Lord has need of it; and straightway he sends it hither.
Jesus sends two disciples into a village to take an animal that belongs to someone else. He gives them one sentence to say if anyone stops them — and that sentence raises three questions. Who is "the Lord" here? By what right does He take another man's property? And why did the owners let it go?
The message the disciples carry is not a request but a claim, and it rests on who owns the animal:
This act of the Lord flashes out once more His glory, and shows that the King-Messiah is Jehovah. He knew that an ass was tied there with a colt, just as He knew about the fish and the piece of silver in the sea. As He commanded the fish with the coin to come to Peter's hook, so here He demands the use of the ass and colt. He has a right to them, for He is the Creator, and He can say as He has said: "For every beast of the forest is mine, the cattle on a thousand hills" (Ps. 50:10).
Mark uses this title for Jesus with striking restraint:
The only place where "Lord" stands for Jesus in the undisputed part of Mark is Mark 11:3, and then in Christ's own mouth.
Commentators differ on how much the owners were meant to hear in it — the name of God, Jehovah, or only a royal title. The same writer thinks the wording was left open on purpose:
I suspect "the Lord" is here, as in Mark 5:19, left purposely vague. The Lord had need of the ass's colt, whether they referred the title to Jehovah or to the king who thus came in His name. If their faith really recognised the Messiah in Jehovah it was most true, and so much the better for those who did.
Foreknowledge alone does not explain why the owners let the colt go:
They were to say simply: "The Lord has need of it and will send it back here immediately." So He knew and ordered a heart at a distance. He showed how David's Lord had good right to be David's Son — indeed, to be received as such by the title of His own person and glory. He who did these things by this divine power and ordering was making His claim in grace, and in no needless untruth, to the place of David's Son. Everything was already subject to Him, whatever He might subject Himself to. This was over several hearts, whoever they were, so that it was not just knowledge of the owner, but control of their hearts.
The colt was not there by chance, and the claim on it ends with a promise:
Zechariah had foretold that the foal would be ready for the King's use. The Lord made known where it was standing at that moment. It was there ready to bring in the King, as prophecy said. The owners saw the disciples untying the colt and asked the reason. They answered as the Master had directed: "The Lord has need of him, and immediately He will send him back here." So it seems Mark wrote. He meant that the Master needed it for a short time, and would give it back when He had finished with it.
Commentators differ on who does the sending back. The ESV leaves it open:
The subject of "sends" is "anyone," not "the Lord" — that is, the man is to send them back, not Jesus. Christ's "the Lord" is plainly used of Himself.
The animal itself carries a lesson about freedom:
The colt was unbroken, for no one had sat on it, and so it was tied up under restraint. It was loosed from restraint, but only so that He might sit on it. Under His powerful hand it was perfectly restrained. This is a parable of how grace sets us free from the bondage of the law.
The willingness shown that day points forward to a wider one:
Coming as the King, He acts with kingly authority. If anyone asked why the disciples were untying the colt, one reply was enough: "that the Lord has need of him." Every question would stop at once. So it happened, and so it will be in the coming day of glory, when it will be true of Zion that "Your people will offer themselves freely on the day of your power" (Ps. 110:3).
- Right. The claim rests on ownership. Every beast of the forest is already His, so the Creator is only collecting what is His own.
- Reach. His word crossed a distance to hearts He had never met. That is more than knowing the owner; it is control of his will.
- Reserve. Almost nowhere else in Mark does "Lord" stand for Jesus, and here it comes from His own mouth. Commentators differ on whether the owners were meant to hear "Jehovah" in it.
- Return. The claim came with a promise to send the animal back. What He takes for His service, He takes for a purpose.
- Release. He had the colt untied only so He could sit on it. Under His hand the unbroken animal stood perfectly steady — a picture of the willing people of Psalm 110:3.
And they departed, and found a colt bound to the door without at the crossway, and they loose him.
Two disciples go ahead with only a description, and find the colt tied at a door in the open street, just as Jesus said. Mark's small details raise big questions: how did Jesus know, by what right did He take another man's colt, and why does untying it matter?
Nobody proposed this ride. The Lord arranged it Himself.
The crowd did not bring a richly decorated animal. The disciples had not prepared the colt, nor asked the Lord to mount it. The Lord took the initiative by sending two of His disciples to the entrance of Bethphage to get it. For the foal was there, tied at a door outside in the open street, as Mark tells us — or perhaps at a cross-way leading round the house. He told them where to find it, what to do, and what to say to the owners. Zechariah had foretold that the foal would be available for the King's use. The Lord made known where it was actually standing at that moment. It was there ready to bring in the King, according to prophecy.
Other writers set this beside the rest of what He knew in advance.
Mark 2:8 and John 6:61 prove that His knowledge was not human but divine... He could and did point out beforehand the coin in the fish's mouth, the whereabouts of the donkey's colt, and the man carrying the jar of water.
This detail of place comes from Mark. Some older translations read "in a place where two ways met" instead of the ESV's "outside in the street."
Turning to Mark, we learn where exactly at Bethphage the two disciples found the foal. It was tied to a door outside where two ways met, that is, at the crossing... Mark's character as a historian who attends to details comes out here very distinctly.
Two men untying a stranger's animal in the street would look like theft.
Only the Lord could give such instructions, for all things are His property; for anyone else to do this would be stealing. No difficulty arose, for the words "the Lord has need of him" settled the matter even for the owners, who at first questioned the disciples.
One writer reads the whole scene as governed by God. He also leaves open who "the Lord" in the message is.
It is above all a scene under the governing hand of God. He would and did control the feelings of those who watched the colt taken. In the same way He later directed the actions and shouts of the crowd along the road... The Lord had need of the donkey's colt, whether they took the title to mean Jehovah or the king who came in His name.
Why was the colt tied, and what did untying it give?
The colt was unbroken, for no one had ever sat on it, and so it was tied up under restraint. It was loosed from restraint, but only so that He might sit on it. Under His powerful hand it was perfectly held in check. This is a picture of how grace sets us free from the bondage of the law.
Reading the older wording, one writer sees a picture of the nation itself standing at a junction.
The colt of a donkey is no doubt typical of Israel in her unbroken state of rebellion, yet restrained by being tied (under bondage to law). The two ways meeting there show that Israel was now brought to the crossroads: which way would she take? She was outside the door, not having entered into the blessings God has provided for that nation.
That easy consent points forward. One writer sees in it a sample of a day still to come.
If anyone asked why the disciples were untying the colt, it was enough to reply "that the Lord has need of him." Every question would stop at once. So it happened. And so it will be in the coming day of glory. Then this will be true of Zion: "Your people will offer themselves freely on the day of your power" (Psalm 110:3).
- Foreseen — Christ knew where the colt stood, tied at a door in the open, before anyone went to look.
- Owned — Only One who owns all things could send men to untie another's animal; from anyone else it would be theft.
- Loosed — It was untied not to run wild but to carry Him; freedom here means passing under His hand.
- Willing — Objectors raised their question, heard "the Lord has need of it," and let it go.
- Prophesied — Zechariah had said the colt would be ready for the King, and there it stood. It is a small preview of the day when His people offer themselves freely.
And some of those who stood there said to them, What are ye doing, loosing the colt?
Two disciples untie an animal that is not theirs, and bystanders challenge them. The Lord had already given them their answer, and one sentence about His need settled it.
The whole errand began with Jesus, not with the crowd or the disciples. He named the place, the animal, and the words to use before anyone had raised an objection.
The crowd did not bring an animal in rich harness. The disciples had not prepared the colt, nor asked the Lord to mount it. The Lord took the initiative by sending two of His disciples to the entrance of Bethphage to get it. Mark tells us the foal was tied at a door outside in the open street, or perhaps a crossway leading round the house. He told them where to find it, what to do, and what to say to the owners. Zechariah had foretold that the foal would be available for the King's use. The Lord made known where it was standing at that moment. It was there ready to bring in the King, as prophecy said.
Zechariah is the prophet who foretold this King's coming.
The disciples had no argument to make and no permission to produce. They had one sentence, and it was enough.
As they came near to Jerusalem, everything was made ready for the Lord to present Himself to Israel as the Son of David, fulfilling the prophecy of Zechariah (Zech. 9:9)… Coming as the King He acts with kingly authority. If anyone asked why the disciples were untying the colt, one reply was enough: "that the Lord has need of him." At once every question would cease. So it happened. And so it will be in the coming day of glory, when it will be true of Zion: "Your people will offer themselves freely on the day of your power." (Ps. 110:3).
Taking someone else's animal is theft — unless the one who sends you already owns it.
Only the Lord could give such instructions, because all things are His property. For anyone else to do this would be stealing. No difficulty presented itself, for the words, "the Lord has need of him" settled the matter even for the owners, who at first questioned the disciples.
Commentators differ on what the title "the Lord" meant to those listening. One reads the reply as the owner of all things claiming what is His by right. Another suspects the title is left vague on purpose.
Above all, this is a scene under the governing hand of God. He would and did control the feelings of those who saw the colt taken. In the same way He later directed the deeds and shouts of the crowd along the way. "The plans of the heart belong to man, but the answer of the tongue is from the LORD." This is so true here that I suspect "the Lord" is left vague on purpose, as in Mark 5:19. The Lord had need of the donkey's colt, whether they took the title to mean Jehovah or the king who came in His name. Only in the two closing verses of this Gospel can we be sure He is called "the Lord."
Mark notes where the colt stood and what it was tied to. Those details carry a picture.
They found the colt tied by a door in a place where two ways met. The colt of a donkey surely pictures Israel in her unbroken state of rebellion, yet held back by being tied (under bondage to law). The two ways meeting there show that Israel had now come to the crossroads: which way would she take?… They untie the colt (a picture of release from bondage to law), so that the Lord Jesus may take rightful control… He takes the reins, and the donkey becomes completely tame. How precious this picture is of what His grace can do in the heart of a stubborn person!
The colt was set free for one use only. That has something to say to anyone who serves Christ today.
The Spirit of God has been careful to tell us that the disciples did just what the Lord told them. The result was the colt set free for the purpose the Lord needed it for. The Lord Himself has gone from the scene, but His Name and His interests are here. So we should care that all we do and say sets affections free and attaches them in loyalty to an absent Christ.
- He asks first. The errand starts with Christ. He names the place, the colt, and the reply before a single bystander speaks.
- He owns already. For anyone else this would be theft; the claim only stands because everything is His property.
- He needs anyway. The one who owns it all still says He has need of it — and that sentence, not a permit, settles the question.
- He is given willingly. God was governing hearts that day, so the bystanders let them go. It points ahead to Zion's people offering themselves freely on the day of His power.
- He is carried. The colt is untied only so the Lord may ride — the pattern for every service done in His Name while He is absent.
And they said to them as Jesus had commanded. And they let them [do it].
Two disciples walk into a village, untie an animal that is not theirs, and are challenged on the spot. They repeat one sentence, and the objection collapses. What did that sentence claim, and why did it work?
The disciples add nothing of their own. They repeat His words, and the matter is closed. One writer links the scene to the prophet Zechariah, and reads the instant compliance as a preview of a future day:
Near Jerusalem, preparation is made to present the Lord to Israel as the Son of David. This fulfils the prophecy of Zechariah (Zechariah 9:9). Coming as the King, He acts with kingly authority. If anyone asked why the disciples were untying the colt, one reply was enough: "the Lord has need of him." At once every question would cease. So it happened. So it will be in the coming day of glory, when it will be true of Zion that "Your people will offer themselves freely on the day of your power" (Psalm 110:3).
The sentence asks no permission. It states a right, and everything turns on whose right it is:
Only the Lord could give such instructions, because all things are His property. For anyone else, this would be stealing. No difficulty appeared. The owners questioned the disciples at first, but the words "the Lord has need of him" settled the matter even for them.
The owners had every natural reason to refuse, and they did not. One writer looks past them to the hand behind the scene, and weighs how much the title "the Lord" was meant to claim:
This is above all a scene under the governing hand of God. He would and did control the feelings of those who watched the disciples take the colt. Later He directed the deeds and shouts of the crowd along the road in the same way. "The plans of the heart belong to man, but the answer of the tongue is from the LORD." This is so true that I suspect the title "the Lord" here is left vague on purpose, as it is in Mark 5:19. The Lord had need of the donkey's colt, whether they applied the title to Jehovah or to the king who came in His name.
The message had a second half. What He claims, He also promises to send back:
The owners saw the disciples untying the colt and asked why. They answered as their Master had told them: "The Lord has need of him, and He will send him back here at once." So it seems Mark wrote (11:3). The Master needed the colt for a short time, and would give it back when He had finished with it.
Some read the animal as a picture. It stands tied outside a door where two roads meet:
They found the colt tied by a door in a place where two ways met. The colt of a donkey is no doubt typical of Israel in her unbroken state of rebellion, yet restrained by being tied (under bondage to law). The two ways meeting there show that Israel was now brought to the crossroads: which way would she take?... They untie the colt (typically from legal bondage), so that the Lord Jesus may be given rightful control. The Lord Jesus takes the reins, and the donkey becomes thoroughly docile. How precious is this picture of what His grace can do in the heart of a stubborn person!
Another writer rejects that reading. For him the detail matters for a plainer reason — He said what would happen, and it happened:
Writers old and new have laboured to find in this remarkable incident a picture of the Gentiles obeying the gospel, since the Lord received and rode the colt. That seems to me far from intelligent. It was simply the evidence of His divine knowledge, and the assertion among the Jews of His claim as Jehovah Messiah. That claim was proved by facts, and by the submission of human hearts wherever God was pleased to produce it for the honour of His Son. That is why the Spirit records the exact words spoken, and how everything He said came true.
- Claim — "The Lord has need of him" does not ask a favour. It claims ownership. From any other lips the same act would be theft.
- Word — The disciples add nothing of their own. They repeat His sentence, and the objection dies.
- Willingness — The owners let the colt go because God governed their feelings. It is a small foretaste of the day when His people offer themselves freely (Psalm 110:3).
- Return — The claim came with a promise to send the colt straight back; He takes for a purpose, not for keeps.
- Picture — Commentators differ. Some see a stubborn creature untied and made docile under His hand. Others see plain proof of His divine knowledge and His claim as Messiah.
And they led the colt to Jesus, and cast their clothes upon it, and he sat on it;
Jesus is almost at Jerusalem, and two disciples come back from a nearby village with a young donkey no one has ever ridden. In this one verse the King of Israel presents Himself to His city, and every detail counts.
The colt did not belong to the disciples. They took it on the strength of one sentence from Jesus. One writer hears in that sentence the right of Israel's God over all He has made:
The sending for the colt shows the Lord as Jehovah, who has a perfect right to all. "The Lord (Jehovah) has need of them." Nothing could be more thorough than His knowledge of circumstances still hidden in the future. How clear His control over the owner's mind and feeling! He was meek, sitting on a donkey, the King of Zion the prophet spoke of. Yet He was as surely Jehovah as He was the Messiah coming in His name. That "need of them" is as amazing as the glory of His person.
Another writer hears the words as a king's command, and notes that they ended every objection:
He comes as the King, and He acts with royal authority. If anyone asked why the disciples were untying the colt, one answer was enough: "the Lord has need of it." Every question stopped at once. So it happened then, and so it will be in the coming day of glory. Then it will be true of Zion that "Your people will offer themselves freely on the day of your power" (Ps. 110:3).
Mark has already told us no one had ever sat on this colt. An unbroken animal carried Him through a shouting crowd and did not bolt. That says something about who He is:
Matthew 21 describes Jesus as meek, yet He also shows features of power. The power of the Creator shows in His sitting on an unbroken colt (Mark 11:2, 7).
The tying, the untying and the sitting carry a lesson beyond that day:
The colt was unbroken, for no one had ever sat on it, so they kept it tied up. They untied it for one reason only: so that He might sit on it. Under His powerful hand it stayed completely under control. This is a picture of how grace sets us free from the bondage of the law.
There was no royal harness. The King rode on His followers' own clothing:
Without further discussion the two disciples led off the foal. They first laid their garments on its back, and then seated the Lord on it. Nor was that enough: others spread their garments on the road, carpeting the track He was to pass over.
This was not just a burst of enthusiasm. One writer traces the whole scene back to God at work behind it:
The same divine power was controlling the hearts of the disciples and of the crowd. It moved them to give this testimony to the royalty of Jesus, and to fulfil the words of the Prophet. "They threw their cloaks on it, and he sat on it." A new position for the lowly Jesus — yet lovely even in this.
The choice of mount was the message. A donkey was not what people expected a king to ride:
There is no record of any king of Israel riding a donkey, for the donkey is the symbol of lowliness. A king would normally ride a horse, the symbol of strength and conquest. That will be true of the Lord Jesus in a future day, when He comes in majestic power as "King of kings and Lord of lords" (Rev. 19:11-16).
Matthew mentions the mother donkey as well; Mark, Luke and John speak only of the colt. One writer sees meaning in what Mark leaves out:
The colt here is seen alone, and not, as in Matthew, in company with its mother. It is grace entirely, not government.
- Claimed. "The Lord has need of it" was enough. He has a perfect right to all, and He controlled the owner's mind and feeling.
- Loosed. The colt was tied because it was unbroken; it was untied for one purpose only — that He might sit on it.
- Steadied. An animal no one had ever ridden carried Him calmly through a shouting crowd. Under His hand it stayed perfectly under control.
- Clothed. He had no saddle and no royal harness. His followers laid down their own garments, and God was moving the hands that laid them.
- Lowly. The King came on a donkey, the sign of lowliness — grace first. The horse of strength and conquest belongs to a future day.
and many strewed their clothes on the way, and others cut down branches from the trees [and went on strewing them on the way].
Jesus rides into Jerusalem, and the crowd turns the road into a carpet of cloaks and cut branches. Commentators read this as a true royal welcome: God moved the people to honour a King who came in humility, and who would be rejected within days.
The garments and the branches were the crowd's way of saying who He was to them. One writer links these acts to the names the people called Him:
They spread their garments and scattered branches of trees in the way. These acts expressed the honour in which the crowd held Him, and the joy with which they greeted Him. The people hailed Him as King (Luke 19:38). They called Him "the Son of David," and so recognised His right to the throne of David (Mark 11:10).
The welcome fits a king. The animal He rides does not fit what people expect:
Verse 8 shows this too. Many spread their garments on the road He was riding. Others cut down branches of trees to form an avenue of royal welcome for Him. He came in lowly humility, yet the honour given Him is worthy of the King presented in majesty and glory. Of course, a king in royal splendour would be riding a magnificent war horse, not a donkey. But Zechariah 9:9 had prophesied this unusual and striking event, and God's hand in arranging the scenes is unmistakable.
The crowd had seen His miracles, but excitement and reasoning do not explain this scene. One writer traces it to the power of God:
A very great multitude is moved by the power of God. They have also seen His miracles, above all the raising of Lazarus. They go before Him and surround Him. They spread their garments in the way, and cut down branches from the trees to throw on His path. They give Him the place and glory of a king, and in fact recognise Him as the royal Messiah. It is an admirable scene. The question here is not the cold reasoning of man's intellect. Nor is it only the effect of His miraculous deeds, though the scene is a fruit of these. It is the mighty working of God on the minds of the crowd, which makes it testify for a short time to the despised Son of God.
J. G. Bellett adds that the crowd itself did not grasp what it was doing:
It may be that they neither understood nor intended any of this. But God moved them to take the part they did, so that the whole scene might present their King, in full form, to the city and nation of the Jews.
The branches recall Israel's Feast of Tabernacles, when the people lived in shelters made of leafy branches. One writer sees this entry as a sketch of that feast, and notes which Gospel leaves the branches out:
The branches and palms sketched out this same feast when Jesus entered Jerusalem, in Matthew 21:8, Mark 11:8 and John 12:12. There the crowds acknowledged Him as the son of David and as king of Israel. In Luke 19, we find neither palms nor branches. The disciples do bless the king who comes in the name of the Lord, but they say "Peace in heaven", not "On earth peace" (compare Luke 2:14). And in Luke we see Jesus weep over Jerusalem (v. 41). The true feast of tabernacles, the final feast, still waits for a future day, as Zechariah 14:16 says.
Days later, the same crowd sent Him to the cross. One writer draws the hard lesson:
It is a terrible thing to see how fickle the multitude is. They are just the same to this day, and they will never be any other until the Lord changes the face of all peoples. The same crowd cried, "Hosanna to the Son of David!" and applauded Him to the skies. Within a few days that same crowd cried with one mouth, "Crucify him, crucify him!" Applause is only human feeling stirred up for the moment. That feeling can swing to the very opposite, and swing fast.
Older English Bibles say the branches were cut "off the trees." The ESV reads "leafy branches that they had cut from the fields." One writer who studied the oldest manuscripts preferred the second reading, and explained where the other came from:
The common wording comes from the usual habit of making this Gospel agree with the parallel passages in Matthew and Luke. The main departure from the common text is in the last clause, where the shorter phrase "having cut them from the fields" is found in the Sinai and Vatican manuscripts, among others.
- God moved. No one organised this welcome, and no argument produced it. God worked on the crowd's minds to draw out testimony to His Son.
- Men honoured. Cloaks and branches on the road expressed the honour and joy of a people greeting their King, the Son of David.
- The King was lowly. The honour belonged to majesty, but He came riding a donkey, just as Zechariah 9:9 had foretold.
- The scene points forward. The branches sketch the Feast of Tabernacles, whose true celebration still lies ahead.
- The applause faded. The same voices soon shouted for His death — excited feeling is no substitute for faith.
And those going on before and those following cried out, Hosanna! blessed [be] he that comes in [the] Lord's name.
The crowds going before and behind Jesus shout an ancient cry as He rides into Jerusalem. The words are not their own, and the real question is whether the city will stand by what its own lips are saying.
The shout is a plea, not a title. It is built from Hebrew words that ask God to save, though in the Gospels it carries a further sense:
This word, which is the same in Greek, is thought to be a compound of two Hebrew words, and means "save now," as in Psalm 118:25. In the New Testament the sense appears to be "bestow blessing" — "Bestow blessing on the Son of David: bestow blessing, O You who are in the highest."
The crowd is not inventing words. They reach back to a psalm that looks ahead to a day still to come:
So the Psalmist wrote by the spirit of prophecy; it refers to the coming day of Israel's final deliverance. "Hosanna," cried the crowd, as they came down the slopes of Olivet and passed into the city... The One spoken of in the psalm was in their midst. He was the King, the heir to David's throne, under whom it will be re-established.
The praise did not rise by accident. One writer traces the scene back to God's hand on the very people who would soon turn against Him:
The same divine power was controlling the hearts of the disciples and of the crowd, to give this testimony to the royalty of Jesus. Those who went before Him were moved to sing the same testimony of Israel, crying out as in Psalm 118... This was really the full language of waiting for the kingdom, acknowledging the Person of the Messiah, and looking up to heaven as its source. So the full testimony was given to the Son of David, the Lord Jesus. The people had set their wills on rejecting Him, yet that same power overruled their minds to honour Him with the fullest testimony to the claim in which He came for their own blessing.
Their words were true. Their grasp of them was not:
It was a strikingly bright testimony to the ways of God. That was true of the ever-adorable One who stooped to offer Himself to the acceptance of His people. It was true as well of the fitting cries of the crowd, little as they realised the truth of their own words, or how grave the situation was for their nation and city from that day to this.
The gap between the shout and the heart showed itself within days. One writer turns that collapse into a warning about the worth of crowd excitement:
It is a terrible thing to see how fickle the crowd is. They are just the same to this day... The same crowd that cried, "Hosanna to the Son of David!" and applauded Him to the skies, with one mouth cried, "Crucify him, crucify him!" within a few days... their applause was nothing. Applause is only human feeling stirred up in the moment. That feeling can swing to the exact opposite, and very fast.
The moment was a preview, not the fulfilment. Notice also who does the praising while the nation's leaders hold back:
As the Lord enters Jerusalem, a crowd surrounds Him and praises Him as the King. They quote Psalm 118:25-26: "Save now… Blessed is He who comes in the name of the LORD." Such will be the cry of the nation in a day to come, when a remnant awakened to repentance will look to the LORD for salvation. That time had not yet come. But though the leaders of the nation reject the Lord, the babes and infants may give a testimony to His glory.
One writer presses the same hope further. The city that refused Him has not been written off:
The despised Messiah is no longer refused. On the contrary, He is most welcome to their hearts: "Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!"... Jerusalem is not abandoned forever. He left her to herself, to her sin and shame in refusing Him. Yet He Himself is our assurance that the very same people and city will look for Him, welcome Him, and be given their song.
- The cry — "Hosanna" means "save now." It is a plea from Psalm 118:25, not a cheer.
- The source — the crowd quotes a psalm about Israel's final rescue under David's heir.
- The hand — God overruled hearts already set against Him, so His Son received this public witness.
- The gap — they said more than they knew. Days later the same voices called for His death. Excited feeling proves nothing.
- The future — a repentant people will say these words again and mean them, welcoming the King they once refused.
Blessed [be] the coming kingdom of our father David. Hosanna in the highest!
The crowd entering Jerusalem blesses more than the One riding in — it blesses a kingdom, and calls David "our father." Their words were truer than they knew, yet the kingdom did not come, and days later the same city crucified Him.
The word the crowd repeats is not applause. It is a plea taken from Psalm 118.
This word is the same in Greek. It is thought to come from two Hebrew words, and means "save now," as in Psalm 118:25. In the New Testament the sense appears to be "bestow blessing." "Bestow blessing on the Son of David: bestow blessing, You who are in the highest."
Adding "in the highest" tells you where they thought the help would come from.
This was the full language of waiting for the kingdom. It acknowledged the Person of Messiah. It looked up to heaven as the source of it, saying: "Save now in the highest."
"The kingdom of our father David" was not a vague hope. It carried specific promises.
They had in mind the glowing prophecies. The Son of David would enter Jerusalem and take His throne. His law would go out from Jerusalem. Israel would be free from all their enemies, and God would live among them. Had the leaders accepted Him, all this would have been established. Psalm 72, Isaiah 11, and Zechariah 9 are in view in this title. But as we know, He was rejected, and these blessings for Israel are on hold.
For that crowd the promise felt political and immediate.
Expectation ran high among the people. The time of release had come. Rome's rule would end and Israel would be free.
Mark's line differs from the other Gospel accounts. One writer points out what the shouts here do not say.
The exclamations here do not speak of Him as king, but of their "father David"... So this Gospel proclaims the Lord's connection with Israel as Son of David. Most of it has followed His work in Galilee of the Gentiles.
Kelly keeps the shorter reading, "Blessed be the coming kingdom of our father David," and explains why a longer wording spread:
The common text comes from the usual habit of making this Gospel match the parallel passages in Matthew and Luke.
The crowd's cry was more than a passing mood. Something larger than crowd feeling was at work.
So the full testimony was given to the Son of David, the Lord Jesus. The people in their will meant to reject Him. Yet their minds were overruled to honour Him. They gave the fullest testimony to the claim in which He came for their own blessing.
That does not mean the singers understood what they were singing.
It was a remarkably bright testimony to the ways of God — not only in the One who offered Himself to His people, but in the fitting cries of the crowd. They little realised the truth of their own words, or how serious the moment was for their nation and city from that day to this. God was moving among them. He would have a testimony, true but despised, to the King, however much He humbled Himself.
The words match a scene still ahead, when Israel will mean them.
This will be the cry of the nation in a day to come. Then a remnant awakened to repentance will look to the LORD for salvation. That time had not yet come.
The speed of the collapse exposes what the enthusiasm was worth.
But their cry came from a sudden gust of enthusiasm. It had no lasting significance, as what followed showed. Within a week He was crucified. The Lord knew how worthless their excited cry was. So a little later He said, "You will not see me again, until you say, 'Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord'" (Matthew 23:39).
David's own life shows the pattern: anointing, rejection, then rule.
David, the son of Jesse, knew the joy and dignity of being anointed king of Israel. He also knew the bitterness of rejection by the people he was anointed to govern. That came before he ruled with the power of an undisputed king. His greater Son knew that in a fuller way than David ever did. But in the end, like David, His greater Son will subdue all His enemies and rule the whole earth undisputed.
- The cry — "Hosanna" means "save now." It is a plea from Psalm 118, aimed at heaven, not applause for a celebrity.
- The kingdom — "our father David" carried old promises: a throne in Jerusalem, freedom from enemies, and God living with His people.
- The overruling — the people meant to reject Him. Yet God moved among them, and His Son received full public testimony to His claim.
- The gap — they said true words without grasping them. Their enthusiasm collapsed within a week, and the blessings went on hold.
- The certainty — a repentant remnant will one day mean this welcome, and David's greater Son will reign over the whole earth.
And he entered into Jerusalem and into the temple; and having looked round on all things, the hour being already late, he went out to Bethany with the twelve.
Only Mark tells us how the day of the triumphal entry ended: the King walks into the temple, looks at everything, then leaves without a word. What did that long, silent look mean for the city He had just entered as King?
The crowd's welcome had put Jesus in a position no one dared challenge. One writer shows how fully the scene was His, even with death close at hand.
How calm and full of heavenly dignity is the Lord's way now! Men hated Him, despised Him and rejected Him, and soon He would meet their scorn and death without resisting. The terror of God is now upon them all. He enters the city in public, giving unhindered testimony that He is the Messiah... He enters into the temple. There is no hand raised, no tongue moves against Him; He, and He only is the great Object there. "And when He had looked around at everything, as it was already late, He went out to Bethany" again "with the twelve." He had now given the full testimony. His judgment would be as calm as the dignity He had shown.
In Matthew, Jesus acts on the defiled temple at once. Mark records this quiet look first.
He entered the city and went up to the temple. He was there as the King, and in His zeal for God's house He drove out those who had made it a market. Yet before He did so, He "looked around at everything." In Matthew He acts at once on the defiled scene. But here, as this small action shows us, He is calm and holds back. He gives the scene time to affect His eye and His heart before His hand takes hold of judgment... There was something of the divine patience in this, something of God's slowness to believe evil.
Nothing in the temple escaped His eye, and nothing there held Him.
This simple looking round upon everything and then turning the back upon it is very solemn. He does not carry out judgment here. He simply finds nothing to satisfy Him, and He leaves the place to them, and leaves them with it. His own personal position is outside it all. The temple as His Father's house should have been His own. If God's throne stood anywhere in Israel, it stood there. Here was the King of that kingdom, the Son of the Father — and He turns His back on it. Leaving it, He leaves the city too, for Bethany, the "house of humiliation." He can only stay there.
Another writer reads the same look as a warning the traders threw away.
His steady, searching gaze was surely a warning to these people, and they plainly ignored it — a foolish choice. If they had not come back the next day to trade, they might have escaped the shame of being thrown out again.
What He found in the temple was not faith. He chose not to stay the night there.
The Lord entered the city and the temple, and everything passed under His searching gaze. All it showed were the signs of rebellion, corruption and unbelief. The Lord will not approve such a state by staying in it. So, in the evening, He returns to Bethany, where a few people loved Him and acknowledged Him.
He left the city with the twelve — the disciples closest to Him. One writer says what drew Him back to Bethany.
Bethany was always a sweet place to the Son of God, who had emptied Himself. It was one of the few places on earth where He was loved, and where His wounded spirit found rest. Lazarus and his sisters made up a delightful home circle. They loved each other, and they were one in their faith in the despised and rejected Messiah.
This first visit to the temple ended with no action taken.
Jesus entered Jerusalem and the temple on the evening of the first day of the week. It was not until the next day — Monday — that He cleansed the temple, as Mark tells us.
- Entry. He comes to Jerusalem and to the temple as King, unopposed, and gives the full testimony to who He is.
- Inspection. Before His hand acts, His eye takes everything in; Mark shows a patience that will not rush to condemn.
- Verdict. He finds nothing to satisfy Him, so He leaves them with it — walking away instead of striking.
- Warning. That steady gaze was itself notice served on the traders; they came back the next day and He drove them out.
- Retreat. He will not sleep in a city marked by unbelief. He goes to Bethany, one of the few places on earth where He was loved.
And on the morrow, when they were gone out of Bethany, he hungered.
Jesus had entered Jerusalem the day before and looked round the temple. He spent the night at Bethany and set out again in the morning. His hunger on that road raises two questions: what does it mean that the Lord of glory felt hunger, and what was He looking for?
Where He spent the night says something about how Jerusalem had received Him.
Bethany was His retreat at this time. Rejected, and therefore a stranger here, He finds His place in the family of faith that loved Him while the world was hostile. And He does come back, from the village to the city, from Bethany to Jerusalem. But this time it is not to renew and continue His service of love and power, as it had been up to now. It is to expose and convict Israel, and leave them under condemnation.
Only Mark records this sequence of days.
He alone has told us what the Lord did after entering Jerusalem in this way. He went into the temple, withdrew to Bethany for the night, and did not cleanse the temple until the following day (Mark 11:12, 15). Mark's character as a historian who pays attention to details comes out here very clearly.
One writer stops at this phrase and asks who it was who went hungry.
The Lord had been rejected at Jerusalem the day before, and had looked for lodging in Bethany. The following morning He set out to pay another visit to the doomed city. The journey was short, yet He grew hungry on the way — a touching hint that He had taken no food, no morning meal. A fig would have refreshed Him, but there was none. Think of this, and think of who and what He was!
This was not the only time He felt such need.
He Himself, the Son of David, knew hunger outside the gates of royal Zion (Mark 11:12), and in the wilderness too (Matt. 4:2). At Sychar He knew weariness and thirst as well (John 4:6-7).
His need was real, and the timing was no accident. He looked for what an owner may expect from his own planting.
The Lord returned to Bethany. The next day, going out from Bethany, He was hungry. The Lord was truly subject to all our infirmities — He took them — but even so, all of this was arranged. So the Lord looks for food in what He has created and planted. He did not create it to give Himself no delight, nor plant it to find no food or fruit in it.
The hunger had a second side. His soul was seeking something too.
A fig tree stands before Him by the roadside, and He comes to it to satisfy His hunger, but finds no fruit. Mark tells us it was not yet the season for figs. But the leaves on this tree promised fruit, just as Israel stood alone among the nations in professing loyalty to the one true God. Fruit could therefore be expected from her, if from nowhere else; and He, with the hunger of His soul unsatisfied, had been seeking it.
The time of year is what makes the empty branches so telling.
If it had been fig season, someone might already have gathered the fruit. But it was not, so fruit ought to have been there, unless the tree was barren. So the tree was a picture of the Jew — fruitless toward God, however much life he seemed to show before men. The tree had leaves, but no fruit.
The sentence on the tree carries further than the tree.
The sentence the Lord pronounced on the fig tree is God's lasting sentence on Israel, and on man in the flesh, who can produce nothing acceptable to God. Unless someone is born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God. Nothing can improve him out of his own sinful state. Happy is the person who bows to this truth. He gives up trying to establish a human righteousness, and submits himself to the righteousness of God.
The sentence was not God's last word about the nation.
As they stood under the old covenant, they were hopelessly condemned, and that covenant was not the time of fruit. When grace receives them under the new, Israel shall blossom, and bud, and fill the face of the world with fruit.
- Housed at Bethany — Rejected in the city, He lodged with the family of faith that loved Him. He came back not to serve but to convict.
- Hungry — The Son of David felt real hunger outside Zion's gates, with no morning meal. His need was true, and the moment was arranged.
- Hungry for fruit — He looks for food in what He Himself planted, and He did not plant it to find nothing.
- Hollow leaves — Harvest had not come, so fruit should have been there. Leaves without figs picture life before men and none toward God.
- Hope elsewhere — Man in the flesh cannot grow into fruitfulness. He must be born again and take God's righteousness instead of his own.
And seeing from afar off a fig-tree which had leaves, he came, if perhaps he might find something on it. And having come up to it he found nothing but leaves, for it was not the time of figs.
On the road from Bethany into Jerusalem, the Lord sees a fig tree in full leaf and goes over to it. He finds only leaves. The note that it was not the season for figs raises a hard question: did the tree, and the nation it pictured, get a fair test?
A fig tree covered in leaves was making a claim about itself, and the Lord tested that claim:
The fig tree is the emblem of the Jewish nation. He came looking for fruit and found none. "The fig tree was punished not for having no fruit, but for announcing through its leaves that it had fruit. It was punished not for being barren, but for being false. This was the guilt of Israel, so much deeper than the guilt of the nations."
The clause sounds at first like an excuse for the tree. Read another way, it condemns the tree: nobody had gathered the crop yet, so an empty tree was a barren tree:
In fig season the fruit might have already been picked. But this was not fig season, so fruit ought to have been on the tree — unless it was barren.
Commentators differ on the force of that clause. One reads it as a sign that the real crop was always meant to come later:
Many have shown that some of the old crop might still have remained, since the fig tree bears twice. But Israel was not to bear fruit under the old covenant. All the prophets bear witness to the same thing. Israel will blossom and bud, and fill the face of the world with fruit, when grace brings the nation back under the new covenant and the Messiah. The Lord had a right to seek fruit as they were; but it was not the time.
The Lord left Bethany that morning with nothing to eat. His hunger had a second layer:
On the next day, returning to the city with His disciples, we read of the King that "He was hungry." He sought fruit on a fig tree, but found "nothing but leaves." May we not say that with the Lord it was not only a physical hunger? It was also a spiritual hunger, seeking some return from Israel for all the centuries of goodness God had given the nation. Something that would be fruit to satisfy the heart of God. In the tree the Lord found plenty of leaves but no fruit. In the nation He found a great show of piety before men, but nothing in the secret life that would be fruit for God.
Fig leaves appear at the start of the Bible too. The first covering people made for themselves was made of them:
Man's love of patchwork showed itself very early. As soon as sin entered the world, Adam and his wife tried in vain to hide their nakedness from the eyes of their Creator. "They sewed fig leaves together and made themselves loincloths" (Gen. 3:7). … This is the first mention of the fig leaf in the Bible; afterwards it becomes a symbol of man's so-called good works, the outward profession of religion (compare Mark 11:13, Luke 13:6-9).
The sentence on that tree reaches past one nation. It settles what human nature can produce without new life:
The sentence the Lord pronounced on the fig tree is the lasting sentence of God on Israel, on man in the flesh, who can produce nothing acceptable to God. Unless one is born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God. He cannot be improved out of his own sinnership. He cannot be developed into what he is not. He must be born completely anew. Happy is the person who bows to this truth. He stops trying to build a human righteousness and submits himself to the righteousness of God.
The curse fell on that one tree for ever, but the Lord's search for fruit does not end in disappointment:
He hungered. There were no figs on the barren fig tree, no response from Israel for the heart of Christ. He hungered. His hunger will be satisfied. The actual fig tree the Lord cursed may bear no fruit for ever, yet the fig tree of Israel will bear fruit, even if God has to prune it for two thousand years.
- Hunger. The Lord left Bethany hungry, and that hunger pictures a deeper one — a longing for some return from a nation God had been good to for centuries.
- Leaves. A tree in full leaf was advertising a crop it did not have. The sin punished was falseness, not barrenness.
- Season. Nobody had gathered the crop yet, so an empty tree proved itself barren. Other writers read the clause as pointing to a crop Israel would bear later, under grace.
- Sentence. What fell on the tree fell on religious profession itself: no one can be improved out of his sinful state — he must be born anew.
- Harvest. The one tree withered for ever, yet the Lord's hunger will be satisfied; Israel will bear fruit, however long the pruning takes.
And answering he said to it, Let no one eat fruit of thee any more for ever. And his disciples heard [it].
On the road between His entry into Jerusalem and His cleansing of the temple, Jesus stops at a leafy fig tree and finds nothing on it. He speaks a sentence over the tree while His disciples are listening. The words sound harsh for a tree. That is the clue: the tree is not the real subject.
Commentators see two hungers meeting at that tree.
On the next day, returning to the city with His disciples, we read of the King that "He was hungry." He sought fruit on a fig tree, but found "nothing but leaves." May we not say that with the Lord this was not only a physical hunger? It was also a spiritual hunger. It sought some return from Israel for all the centuries of goodness God had given the nation. Something that would be fruit to satisfy the heart of God.
Commentators read the tree as a picture of Israel, and of what a long history of God's care had produced.
He curses the tree, saying, "May no one ever eat fruit from you again"; and the fig tree withers at once. This is Israel according to the old covenant, man according to the flesh. This is man in the place where God has spent all His care and used every means. This is man for whom God could give up even His only Son, to get some good from his heart. All was in vain. He had spared the tree this year also, when the keeper of the vineyard asked Him to (Luke 13). He had dug around it and fertilised it, but it had produced no fruit. Plenty of leaves, but no fruit; a pretence of piety, religious forms, but man does not have the true fruit that God's heart seeks in His own.
The tree did not look bare. It looked promising. Commentators apply that same test far beyond Israel.
How solemn the result! Those who, whatever their religious profession before men, stop living rightly before God will be set aside as a testimony before men. So the Lord has to say, "May no one ever eat fruit from you again." This is surely a principle of wide application. Later the Lord has to speak in the same way to the church at Ephesus. They made such a fair show of piety with their works, but their affections were not true to Himself: "You have abandoned the love you had at first." In the end the Lord warns them that He would remove their lampstand. Their heart was not right with Christ, so they would lose their testimony before men. This is a solemn reminder to us all. The real test of spirituality is not the outward profession of piety before men, but the secret life lived before Christ.
Mark tells the fig tree story in two halves, with the cleansing of the temple between them. One writer sees a single act there, not two errands.
Next follows the cursing of the fig tree (12-26), woven together with the cleansing of the temple. The two are one — two sides of the same act. He must cleanse His house, and to do this, fruitless profession must be withered up.
The words sound final. Commentators ask how far that finality reaches.
God formed them to bear His name before the world. They failed. He dealt with them as responsible and set them aside, as looked at under the old covenant. The word to the barren fig tree was, "May no one ever eat fruit from you again." The tree might bear leaves, but the Lord came seeking fruit and found none. So the tree withered at once. So God set Israel aside — the vessel meant to carry His name to the world. But this did not touch the question of God's faithfulness. He will restore Israel in the last days.
Mark ends the verse by noting the audience. The withered tree next morning startles Peter — and the surprise itself is questioned.
But should this have surprised the apostle? Was there not power in the words of Jesus for even greater wonders than this? For the voice that cursed the fruitless fig tree was the same voice that ages before said, "Let there be light," and there was light (Gen. 1:3).
- Hunger. Christ came looking for fruit, and His hunger went deeper than the body's.
- Leaves. The tree promised fruit and had none: profession before men without life before God.
- Sentence. The word spoken over the tree is a word over the nation, after God had already spent every means of care on it.
- Cleansing. Withering the fruitless tree and cleansing His house are two sides of one act.
- Future. The sentence ends fruit-bearing under the old covenant, not God's faithfulness — He will restore Israel in the last days.
And they come to Jerusalem, and entering into the temple, he began to cast out those who sold and who bought in the temple, and he overthrew the tables of the moneychangers and the seats of the dove-sellers,
The ride into Jerusalem is over, and the first place Jesus goes is the temple. What He does there is not a burst of temper. It is an act of authority.
One writer sets the two days side by side:
Yesterday He had made a full survey of their condition, and of the condition of His Father's house, Jehovah's house. Today He carries out judgment with all the authority — the condemning authority — of Jehovah's King. He will bear with none of this evil now. Grace had been patient for a long time. He had withdrawn to a distance to give time for repentance.
This is the second time Jesus cleared the temple. One writer sets out how the two occasions differ:
We have said that the Lord cleansed the temple twice. John here, and he alone, tells us of the first. Matthew 21:12-13; Mark 11:15-17; Luke 19:45-46 agree in telling us, and they only, of the second. On the first occasion He acted as in the Father's house; on the second, as in His own. "My Father's house" He called it in John. "My house" He called it in Matthew and the others. Further, when challenged on the first occasion, He at once gave the Jews a sign. When challenged the last time, He refused. The first time, His presence as God's messenger was new to the city, so He gave them a sign. The second time, they already had proof after proof of His divine mission, so He would not grant their request.
The traders had reasons for being there. One writer grants those reasons, then says where the wrong lay:
The Jews would doubtless have furnished good reasons for permitting these abominations. Did not the strangers need to change their varied monies? Were not the doves a necessity for the very poorest, who could afford no larger sacrifice? But the whole thing had been debased into a money-making concern. A man might come from far away seeking God. When he reached the house, the dishonesty of those connected with it could easily drive him off.
Jesus does more than tidy the place. The same writer shows what its holiness secured:
He maintained the holiness of God's house. He kept it holy as Jehovah's house, not as a mere convenience for Jewish pride. And as Jehovah's house, His Father's house, it had all its wide claim and value in His eyes: a house of prayer for all nations. The holiness of God's house is what widens its reach. Holiness is what makes it truly God's house. His claim is over all, and it is a claim of grace.
Mark tells the fig tree story around the temple scene. One writer says the two belong together:
Next follows the cursing of the fig tree (12-26), woven together with the purging of the temple. The two are indeed one, but two sides of the same act. He must cleanse His house, and to do this, fruitless profession must be withered up.
Writers do not leave this in the past. One warns that leaders in the church can fall into the same thing:
That house is the place where God approaches men and man can approach God. In the hands of men who professed religion, it had become corrupted into a means of indulging their greed. What the leaders in Israel did, it is possible for the leaders in the Christian assembly to do, but for the grace of God.
Another writer names the remedy in the plainest terms:
Again religion has been turned into a money-making concern. It has gone so far that the person who would seek after God is often driven away completely… The house of God on earth today is formed of saints — not dead stones but "living" ones. We have to learn how we are to behave in it. Paul's first letter to Timothy gives us the needed instructions.
- Whose house — He acts as owner. In John it is "My Father's house"; here He comes to what is His own, and judgment follows a full survey made the day before.
- What they made it — a money-making concern. Every stall had a reasonable excuse, and together they turned approach to God into profit.
- What He did — He cleansed rather than tolerated, because holiness is what makes the house God's at all.
- Who it was for — "all nations." Its holiness is exactly what widens it; God's claim over everyone is a claim of grace.
- What it costs — the fruitless fig tree and the cleared temple are two sides of one act. Empty profession must wither before the house is fit. The same greed can enter the church today.
and suffered not that any one should carry any package through the temple.
Jesus has just cursed the barren fig tree, and now He clears the temple of its traders and stops people carrying goods through the courts. Why would a shortcut through a building matter to Him?
He did not ask the temple authorities for permission. He acted as the owner, and one writer links that authority to the ban on carrying goods through the courts.
He entered the temple and acted with authority inside its courts, claiming it as His house... He would not let anyone treat the temple court as common ground. "He would not allow anyone to carry anything through the temple." The house is sacred and its courts are holy. Everyone should respect that. The chief priests were false guardians of the holy place, and here they had failed completely. He, then, must maintain the holiness of God's house. For the house was His. Jehovah Himself, in the person of the Lord, was present.
The traders were selling. Other people were doing something far more ordinary: using the temple as a route to somewhere else. One writer shows why that mattered, and ties the holiness of the house to its reach.
He let no one pass through, or carry anything through the temple, making it just a passage for his own convenience. He kept God's house holy. He kept it holy as Jehovah's house — not as a convenience for Jewish pride. And as Jehovah's house, His Father's house, it had all its wide claim and value in His eyes: a house of prayer for all nations. The holiness of God's house is what gives it its reach. Holiness is what makes it God's own house, so His claim covers everyone, and it is a claim of grace.
The temple was meant to welcome people from every nation. Trade drove those seekers away, and there were good-sounding reasons for allowing it.
The Jews would doubtless have supplied good reasons for permitting these abominations. Did not the strangers need to change their various currencies? Were not the doves a necessity for the very poorest, who could afford no larger sacrifice? But the whole thing had been debased into a money-making concern. A man might travel far in search of God. When he reached the house, the dishonesty of the people connected with it could easily drive him away. The keepers of the house were a pack of thieves, and the Lord told them so. This stirred the scribes and priests to fury, and they decided on His death.
Commentators apply the scene forward. What greed did to the temple at Jerusalem, greed can do wherever God has a house.
God's house is where He comes near to people, and where people can come near to Him. People who professed religion had corrupted it into a way of feeding their greed. What the leaders in Israel did, the leaders in the Christian assembly could do too, but for the grace of God... So we learn that the flesh never changes. The same greed that corrupted the house of God at Jerusalem has pushed its way into the spiritual house of God, and corrupts it there.
The leaders did not welcome the cleansing. One writer contrasts what they cared about with what moved the Lord.
The leaders of the people ask by what authority He had purified the temple. There was no zeal in them for the holiness of God — plenty of zeal for their own authority... The Lord Jesus thought only about the authority of God, and what He did was the effect of it. If the rulers' conscience had not been hardened, they would have kept silent, even though they were not pleased with what the Lord had done. They would have been ashamed of the state of the temple under their care.
The cleansing sits next to the withered fig tree on purpose. Both are acts of assessment on a people whose outward show no longer matched anything inside.
The Lord likens them to a fig tree with a great show of "leaves" but no "fruit." Again they are called to repent, but all in vain. Their heart had gone away from God, so He sets them aside as a witness for Himself before men... Having set them aside, the Lord at once enters the house God had brought them back to build and keep. He casts out those who were corrupting it. Judgment begins at the house of God.
- Owner. He cleared the courts without asking anyone. The house was His, and its rightful Lord was standing in it.
- Holiness. The ban on carrying goods through hits convenience, not just profit. God's house is not a shortcut.
- Reach. That holiness gave the house its width. Because it was God's own house, His claim reached every nation — a claim of grace.
- Corruption. Greed turned the place of approach into a money-making concern. It drove the far-off seeker away instead of welcoming him. Commentators warn that the same greed can enter God's house today.
- Judgment. The withered fig tree and the emptied courts belong together. God sets aside fruitless profession, and judgment begins at the house of God.
And he taught saying to them, Is it not written, My house shall be called a house of prayer for all the nations? but *ye* have made it a den of robbers.
The day after riding into Jerusalem, Jesus drove the traders out of the temple and explained Himself with two lines from the prophets. Why does He call the place "My house," and why does prayer define it?
The chief priests were about to learn who He was.
But the chief priests were to learn about Him; and He entered the temple, exercised authority within its precincts, claiming it to be His house. The traffickers in things used in its service He cast out... He, then, must maintain the holiness of God's house. For the house was His. Jehovah Himself in the person of the Lord was present.
Sacrifices were offered there daily, yet that is not the name God chose for the place. One writer draws out what that naming reveals about God Himself.
God's house was a house of prayer. That was its moral character, not sacrifice. God did not name His house after sacrifice, though sacrifice was offered there. He named it in grace, for people who had needs. Where His presence and His ear were, there was a house of prayer. There people told God all their wants, and He received every grief and every need. And they had made it a den of thieves. Note this: the Lord marks the sin against the temple of God as a sin against the gracious character of God.
Mark alone records this clause in full, and it widens the house past Israel's borders.
God's thought in establishing His house at Jerusalem was that it might be a place of prayer for all nations. If any man, no matter what race he belonged to, was feeling after God, he might come to that house and get into touch with Him.
Holiness and the wide welcome are not separate concerns.
He kept God's house holy. He kept it holy as Jehovah's house, not as a convenience for Jewish pride. And because it was Jehovah's house, His Father's house, it held its full, wide claim and value in His eyes — a house of prayer for all nations. The holiness of God's house is what gives it this reach. Holiness makes it truly God's house, and His claim is over all; and it is a claim of grace.
The word behind "robbers" is a strong one.
(lestes) 'robber, bandit.' The Lord used this word of those who bought and sold in the temple... When the Lord was arrested, He asked if they had come out as against a robber.
The trade had grown out of a provision in the law.
The trading and money-changing in the temple had no doubt grown out of a kind provision in the law, which Deuteronomy 14:24-26 records. Wicked men took advantage of that provision and turned the temple courts into a den of thieves. God meant His temple to be the house where men came near to Him with their requests. Its guardians turned it into a place where men were cheated, and so they slandered the name of God.
Commentators differ here. Some read the clause as pointing forward to a future temple open to the nations; William Kelly argues from the way the other Gospels handle the quotation.
Neither Matthew nor Luke shows the Lord quoting the words about all the nations. Mark's full citation shows that He did quote the prophet's words in full. Yet the two Gospels that press hardest on the change from Israel to the Gentiles leave out "all nations". That omission is meant to show that no such application was in His mind then. What stood before His eyes was simply the gross twisting of Jehovah's house of prayer into a den of robbers.
Others carry the principle straight into the present, where God dwells among His people.
God always intended His house to be called "a house of prayer for all peoples" (Isa. 56:7). The temple in Jerusalem should have been that, as our Lord's words in Mark 11:17 show. How much more the house where God dwells today! But God's house has now taken a form in which the nations do not come to it to pray. Instead the believers who make up the house... take the place of prayer and intercession, with all people in view.
Exposing the evil brought one result, and it still does.
The Lord condemned this wickedness, and the only effect was to raise the most extreme opposition against Himself... In our own day, with corruption all through the Christian world, those who seek to follow the Lord and take any stand for the truth will meet some opposition too.
- His house. Jesus cleared the temple by claiming it as His own. Jehovah was present in person, keeping His own house holy.
- A house of prayer. God named it for prayer, not sacrifice: the place where people bring Him every need. Corrupting it is sin against His gracious character.
- For all nations. Holiness is what gives the house its reach; because it is truly God's, His claim extends over all, and it is a claim of grace.
- A den of robbers. Wicked men twisted a provision of the law for profit, cheated the seekers, and slandered God's name in His own courts.
- The cost of saying so. Naming the corruption brought the fiercest opposition on Him — and those who stand for the truth today will meet some of it too.
And the chief priests and the scribes heard [it], and they sought how they might destroy him; for they feared him, because all the crowd were astonished at his doctrine.
This verse closes a crowded day. Jesus had cursed a barren fig tree, then walked into the temple and driven out the traders. The reaction it records is not repentance but a plot — and the reason given for that plot is fear.
Mark marks out the events in order, and the men who ran the temple are reacting to something specific that had just happened in it.
With this, the fourth day was ended, and in the evening He went out of the city (11:19). The fig tree cursed and the temple cleansed, were the events of that day. The King had entered His capital. Jehovah had visited His house.
The traders had reasons ready. Travellers needed to change money, and the poorest worshippers needed doves to offer.
No doubt the Jews could have given good reasons for allowing these evils. Did not the visitors from abroad need to change their different currencies? Were not the doves a necessity for the very poorest, who could afford no larger sacrifice? But the whole thing had sunk into a money-making business. The crookedness of the men running the house could easily drive away a man who had come from far off to seek God. A terrible state of affairs! The keepers of the house were a pack of thieves, and the Lord told them so. This roused the scribes and priests to fury, and they decided on His death.
The crowd stands on one side of this verse and the officials on the other. The chief priests and scribes were the leaders and scholars of the religion of that day. Shallow as the people were, His words held them, while these men wanted the light put out.
God was not in their thoughts, but man; and self, not conscience, governed them. But what a picture! The righteous, chosen Servant, the Son of God, hated to death — and not by the crowd. They were thoughtless and fickle, yet they at least hung on His unusual words: words that vindicated God, that spoke goodness toward man, and that sternly rebuked the proud men who twisted sacred things. It was these men, the leaders of religion, the theologians of that day, who shrank back from the light of God and tried only to put it out.
The verse says they feared Him, and that fear shaped their method. His teaching had gripped the crowd, so they could not move against Him openly. The plot became a question of how.
The scribes and Pharisees hear it, and they do only what Satan does when he can do nothing else — look for a way to destroy. They were indeed playing his part now. They were afraid to act openly, but they still sought a way to do it, because they feared Him. The power of His word and ministry had swayed the crowd. The people were astonished, even if not converted. Afraid of what open action against Him would do to their standing before the people, the leaders looked for how.
Another writer ties their fear of people to the pride that will not bow to God.
They could do nothing until God allowed it. The Lord Jesus continued to act for God in the face of their resentment and hostility. The people paid attention to His words, and because of this the leaders were afraid to arrest Him in case it stirred up a riot. The fear of God meant little to them, but the fear of man and the pride of self-righteousness always go hand in hand.
His words had this effect all through Mark's Gospel. One writer follows the thread and links it to Jesus as the perfect servant.
Whenever He did speak, surely He spoke "with authority" (Mark 1:27; Mark 2:10; Mark 4:41; Mark 6:2; Mark 11:18). So even as a dependent man, a perfect servant, everything He said was "with authority." Again, "He whom God has sent utters the words of God" (John 3:34).
Naming the corruption in God's house brought hostility, not reform. One writer applies that to anyone who takes a stand for truth now.
The Lord condemned this wickedness, and the only effect was to stir up the most extreme opposition against Himself... And today, where the Christian world is corrupt, those who seek to follow the Lord and take any stand for the truth will meet opposition in some measure. "Truth is lacking, and he who departs from evil makes himself a prey" (Isa. 59:15).
- Visit. The King entered His capital; the Lord visited His house. This verse records the reception He got there.
- Exposure. He named the temple traffic for what it was; the men who ran it answered the charge with a plot, not repentance.
- Fear. They feared Him but not God. Fear of the crowd forced them to scheme in secret instead of acting openly.
- Authority. The crowd was astonished because His words carried authority. That mark is on everything He says in this Gospel.
- Cost. Truth that exposes corruption still draws opposition. Anyone who takes a stand should expect some of the same.