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.