AT 25
August 25
Matthew 21:1-9. Christ approaches Jerusalem, riding on a donkey.
Had every scene in our Savior's life been like this, it would not have been written, "He came to his own, and his own received him not." But this day of triumph was in reality only a preparation for the day of slaughter. The Lord of glory chose that for once his name should be publicly exalted in his own city of Jerusalem. As his hour was now come, he no longer hid himself from his enemies, or restrained the grateful praises of his disciples. At the beginning of his ministry he did his mighty works in secret, and desired his disciples to tell no man that he was the Christ. But at the close of his ministry, he made a triumphant entry into Jerusalem, as the King whom God had chosen to reign over that city. Yet the manner of his entry was unlike that of kings. He rode, not in a chariot drawn by horses, but on a donkey—even on a colt, the foal of a donkey.
We know that his principal reason for this act was that he might fulfill the prophecy of Zechariah, and give all who beheld him an opportunity of knowing, by another sign, that he was the Messiah of whom the prophets spoke. Yet, even his own disciples did not observe, at the time, the fulfillment of the prophecy. But was there no other reason why it was appointed that the Lord of all should enter his own city in so humble a manner? Did not the manner of his entry show that he was not a war -like monarch, but the Prince of Peace —not a proud monarch, but the meek Savior, not a rich monarch, but one who had become poor — so poor that he borrowed the donkey on which he rode. Yet his divine wisdom and power might be discerned through the veil of humility in which he was clothed. No king, however wise, could have foretold those minute circumstances concerning the finding of the donkey, which Jesus described. No king, however powerful, could have made an unbroken colt obedient to his word.
He was the glorious Son of Man, spoken of in the eighth psalm, of whom it is said—"You made him to have dominion over the works of your hands; you have put all things in subjection under his feet,—all sheep and oxen—yes, and the beasts of the field, the fowl of the air, and the fish of the sea." As God gave all the creatures to the first Adam, so also he gave them to the second Adam, of whom the first was only a type. The beasts who were obedient to the first Adam in the garden of Eden, did not resist the power of the second Adam. Man rebelled against his authority, but the donkey's foal acknowledged it.
How wonderful was the condescension of the King of Israel in entering his own city in so humble a manner! The purple and scarlet of earthly monarchs, the prancing horses and splendid chariots may dazzle the eye, but the majesty and meekness of the Son of God impress the heart with admiration. He knew that he should be soon exalted to his Father's right hand, yet he condescended to ride upon a donkey. He knew that white-robed elders would soon cast their crowns at his feet, yet when the multitude spread garments and strewed branches in the way, he accepted these meaner honors.
Ought we not to approach with confidence so meek and gentle a Savior? If, in the days of his flesh, he was pleased with every feeble attempt to show him homage, ought we not to believe that he will be pleased with our humble efforts? We cannot testify our feelings by spreading garments or strewing branches in the way. If we would honor him, we must bow our hearts and bend our wills to his royal scepter. When he comes again in power and glory, he will remember us. For this is his promise to his faithful servants—"The Lord their God shall save them in that day, as the flock of his people." (Zech. 9:16.)