Matthew 21:1-16

Chapter 77

Prayer

Almighty God, who can follow the way which thou dost take, or understand the writing of thy books, or hear all the music of thy voice? We are always left behind: we cannot keep pace with thy going; we are tired, and if thou didst not gather the lambs in thy bosom and carry them in thine arms, behold thy whole flock would be left in stony places. But thou art mindful of us with tender care: when we are weak then are we strong, because thou dost draw us still nearer to thine own almightiness. We have heard of thee from Jesus Christ, and he calls thee our Father: he hath revealed the Father, he told us that he himself came from the bosom of the Father his speech about thee has made us glad with true joy.

Thou hast numbered the very hairs of our head, thou hast given unto us all thy heart's love, yea thou didst so love us as to give thine only-begotten Son to live, to die, to rise again, to pray all his breath in Heaven. He is our Priest and Intercessor and great King, as he was our Saviour when he died upon the cross and poured out his precious blood for the ransom and redemption of the world. Why do we not believe thee? Behold some of us now in thine house are dumb and deaf and blind, and our hearts are as the nether millstone. Some of us have never wept at the cross, some of us have never felt the cleansing blood. Why are some altars left unlighted, why are some lives left among the beasts that perish? We cannot understand this: it is too high for us and too deep and altogether out of our scope and reach. We mourn it.

Thou art kind unto the unthankful and to the evil. Thou dost not pour thy rain upon the gardens of righteous men alone, nor dost thou confine the shining of the sun to the windows of those that are open towards the heavens in loving expectation and desire, but thou pourest thy rain upon good and bad, just and unjust, and the shining of the sun is an impartial glory. So surely is thy love in Christ: did he not die for the whole world, is he not sent into every country, has he not a gospel for every heart, did he not cry over the cities that rejected him, is not his heart filled with compassion towards all the children of men? Why this hardness, why this unanswering rebellion of spirit? May we pray that now the mighty change may be accomplished may we desire in loving prayer that now may be the day of salvation to all who have not yet uttered the oath of love or received the seal of pardon? Come suddenly to thy people: now that we are all in one place may we be of one accord when we are of one accord thou wilt not withhold the pentecostal benediction and revelation.

Spirit of the living God, come now Spirit of fire, answer us from the high Heavens Spirit of life, let thine answer be unto us great and tender and full of satisfaction. Dry the tears of our sorrow, staunch our bleeding wounds, lift up those that are cast down, speak comfortably unto Jerusalem, let tender solaces recover our strength and messages from Heaven rekindle the lamp of our hope. O save us, Mighty One draw us to thyself, and set not the foot of thy power upon any one of us, or we shall be crushed and destroyed, but open thine heart and bid us welcome to thy love, and show us the meaning of the cross of Christ, and at the close of this, our waiting upon thee together, with one consent, may we have seen the King in his beauty and heard voices from Heaven. Amen.

Mat 21:1-16

1. And when they drew nigh unto Jerusalem, and were come to Beth-phage (on the road from Jericho, and to the east of Bethany) unto the mount of Olives, then sent Jesus two disciples,

2. Saying unto them, Go into the village over against you, and straightway ye shall find an ass tied, and a colt with her; loose them, and bring them unto me.

3. And if any man say aught unto you, ye shall say, The Lord hath need of them; and straightway he will send them.

4. All this was done (has come to pass) that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by the prophet, saying,

5. Tell ye the daughter of Sion, Behold, thy King cometh unto thee, meek, and sitting upon an ass, and a colt the foal of an ass.

6. And the disciples went, and did as Jesus commanded them,

7. And brought the ass, and the colt, and put on them their clothes, and they set him thereon.

8. And a very great multitude spread their garments in the way; others cut down branches from the trees, and strawed them in the way.

9. And the multitudes that went before, and that followed, cried, saying, Hosanna to the son of David: blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord; Hosanna in the highest.

10. And when he was come into Jerusalem, all the city was moved (filled with pilgrims at the beginning of Passover week), saying, Who is this?

11. And the multitude said. This is Jesus the prophet of Nazareth of Galilee.

12. And Jesus went into the temple of God, and cast out all them that sold and bought in the temple, and overthrew the tables of the moneychangers (Syrian, Egyptian, Greek, the money might be), and the seats of them that sold doves.

13. And said unto them, It is written, My house shall be called the house of prayer; but ye have made it a den of thieves (Palestine was then swarming with brigands).

14. And the blind and the lame came to him in the temple; and he healed them.

15. And when the chief priests and scribes saw the wonderful things that he did, and the children crying in the temple, and saying, Hosanna to the son of David, they were sore displeased,

16. And said unto him, Hearest thou what these say? And Jesus saith unto them, Yea; have ye never read, Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings thou hast perfected praise?

The Entry Into the City

How did he know where the ass was, and the colt, and in what condition they would be found? This seems to be a little thing in the reading, but if you will think yourselves back into the exact details of the situation, even in this little bush you may find a fire that burns, but does not consume. How did Jesus know all the little things of which he spake in the course of his ministry upon earth? How did he see Nathanael under the fig-tree, how did he read and picture his character and state it in words that startled the man himself? How did he know who it was in the tree looking down upon him in a spirit of curiosity? How knew he the man's name and the man's circumstances, and how did he dare say that he would be the man's guest that day? And by what power of vision does he see the place where the ass is, and the colt, the place where two ways meet, and the possibility of the owners being there? How does he charge the disciples to explain their errand to any one who should interrogate them upon it? We take these things too much as a matter of course, but diligently consider them, and weigh them, and bring them up to their proper and complete totality, and tell me if the upgathering of these fragments does not fill many baskets, and does not awaken all the wonder, of a religious kind, of which man is capable.

Yet, with all this, he uses a word which seems to set it in singular and all but painful contrast. He speaks as a man of need; he who could see all things and foretell all things confesses to his personal necessity. The head that carried all knowledge had not where to sleep, of its own right and title. And again in that very selfsame sentence he used a word which throws the term "need" into striking contrast Lord. Such strange mixture do we find in the talk of this Man. Lord and need in the same sentence! He does not give up his royalty because of his necessity, nor does his royalty and Lordship save him from need. And yet what need could he have who had but to express the wish and it was instantly complied with? It was a sweet necessity, it was the pain of that hunger which had wherewith to satisfy itself. Is not hunger a delightful sensation when the smoking feast is before you? What hunger is that which betakes itself into a banqueting hall loaded with all that can delight the senses and satisfy the appetite? What need could he have who had but to wish and it was done, to command and it stood fast, to express a desire and it hastened on eager feet and with passionate love to satisfy it even to overflow?

A wondrous reality you will find in all the life and speech of Jesus. He hides nothing. He is Lord and yet he has need; he is Master, and yet he hath not where to lay his head: he commands with all the breadth and emphasis of one who would rule worlds, and yet the foxes are better housed and the birds have nests to themselves, while he is exile and wanderer, solitary as a homeless one. Nothing is painted here, nothing veneered, nothing kept back: the stern, simple, absolute reality faces the reader and compels him, if he be a man of candid mind, to acknowledge that nothing is set down here by way of false allurement, but everything is real, strong, simple, and open, to be tested by all the organs and instruments of reason.

He is now about to fulfil a scripture. "All this was done that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by the prophet." He did nothing extemporaneously, his most sudden act was a flash from a volcano which it had taken an eternity to gather. There was all the appearance of freshness about everything he did, as if it had never been thought about before, and yet just as he planned this journey did he plan the whole scheme of things of which we form a more or less insignificant part. He foresaw the occasion, knew where to find the colt on which he would ride, sent for it, gave an answer by anticipation to any man who asked the disciples what they were doing. See in the little event before you, with all its exquisite shaping and adaptation, on a small scale what he has been doing on the scale of the universe. The very hairs of your head are all numbered, the inventory of the universe is in heaven, the Writer of the books that cannot be burned is in the skies, all things are set down there in imperishable ink, and when the Son of Man is come in his glory and all the holy angels with him, then will he read all over the earth's long story, so bloody, tragic, terrible, and yet, in his reading, they will fall into strange weird resonance and rhythm, and we shall find that even the storms have been caught up within the embrace of a law inspired of God, and tending to the blessedness and perfecting of the human race.

Are there not many of us who would send Jesus Christ the colt from the stable, the horse from the field, the cattle from the pasture, the gold from the bank, and yet would not send him ourself ? We might be proud to give him anything we have he wants us, as we are. He seeks not yours, but you, and having you, he has yours. Therein is a solemn truth, deep as life. It is not enough to give him out of the hand, we must give him the hand itself. Ye are not your own, ye are bought with a price, therefore glorify God in your body and in your spirit, which are Christ's. We are not to subscribe, we are to sacrifice: We are not to send something, we are to take ourself. We beseech you, therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present yourselves as living sacrifices, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service.

"And a very great multitude spread their garments in the way: others cut down branches from the trees and strawed them in the way, and the multitudes that went before and that followed cried." They might do all that, and do nothing! The men sent the colt: the great multitude spread their garments, others cut down branches, and all cried with a loud voice, as if the King had come, and must be hailed in shouts of loyal delight. All that might mean nothing, and yet, if it meant the right thing, it was itself necessary. What is there under it? If the life be under it, then the enthusiasm is not only contagious, it is necessary, and it is most beautiful. Christ awakens enthusiasm: the loyalty which is paid to Christ is a loyalty of passionate and uncontrollable love, it keeps back nothing, it considers that nothing has been done while anything remains to be attempted. Such love holds that nothing has been given whilst anything has been withheld.

Where is passion today? Who now is excited in a godly and healthy sense about Jesus Christ? Yet he is the Man of the day, books written about him are still read and asked for, and are greatly multiplied. Still he is the puzzle of the times: he overlooks every shoulder, breathes upon every honest labourer, speaks comfortably to every suffering heart, divides the burden and multiplies the joy of every life. Are we not too cold about him? Are we not too respectable, in the merely conventional sense of that term, in the arrangement and expression of our piety? Are we not as successors, the unnamed but real posterity of the Scribes and the Pharisees who were appalled by the enthusiasm which Jesus Christ evoked? Consider this well. I do not want any of you to spread your garments in the way and cut down branches from the trees, and to join the great cry, unless these things express a real and healthy condition of the heart. Yet it must not be left unsaid, that where there is absolute, unreserved consecration of the soul, there will be corresponding expression in the whole demeanor of the life.

"And when he was come into Jerusalem, all the city was moved," but Luke puts in an incident which Matthew omits: going towards the city, unable to see it because of a shoulder of the hill, he turns suddenly round, and there was beauteous queenly Jerusalem, great light shining upon it and covering it as with a robe of purest snow. And yonder were the marble pinnacles, and yonder the gilded roof of the temple such a sight in form of a city never flashed on human eyes. Yet the Evangelist says, "And when he came near the city he wept over it." He never wept for himself: when he told the disciples that he was going up to Jerusalem to be betrayed into the hands of men who should mock him and scourge him and crucify him, no tear stood in his eye but when he was come near the city, he wept over it, and said. "Hadst thou known, even thou, in this thy day the things that belong unto thy peace! But now they are hidden from thee." When he stood in the judgment hall, when he was smitten with the reed, when men spat upon his face, when they plucked the hair from his cheek, he wept not but when he was come near the city, he wept over it, and said, "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, how often would I have gathered thee, but thou wouldst not! It is now too late."

He weeps over you, hard hearts; he weeps over you, disobedient and self-pleasing will and purpose of life. No scourge could make him cry for himself, no nails driven into his hands ever caused him to weep weakly for the pain's sake; but when he was come nigh unto the city he wept over it. Those tears were the prelusive drops of a thunder shower that destroyed the queen of cities: they went before the great black thunder drops that fell on the hot streets and as he cries over us to-night his tears have the same meaning he will rain fire and brimstone from heaven upon those that continue their sin beyond the reach of his patience. It is one of two things, it is falling upon that stone and being broken, or having the stone falling upon us and being ground to powder.

"And when he was come into Jerusalem, all the city was moved, saying, Who is this?" Cities are moved by various causes. Let news of a great war be reported in London, and, great as the city is, it will be moved from centre to circumference. Let a great man die, even in a green old age, and the city, the country, the civilised world feels that the cedar has fallen. It is a great thing indeed to have such responsibility attached to power and to life, that when the man dies the world shall feel itself poorer because of his withdrawment. The death that eclipses the gaiety of nations, that stops the mad dance half through, that makes the winebibber set down his goblet half drained, that interferes with the business of the day, marvellous indeed is such a fact. We cannot hope to attain that influence, but we can obtain a better. You may so live as to be missed by your family for your good deeds, you may so live that the house will be empty without you, and those who loved you will have no more joy under that roof because you have gone away.

The whole city was moved. Here was a Man who could move a city and could satisfy every emotion he excited. Some men cannot control the excitement which they raise others raise it only to mock it by grievous disappointment. Here is a Man who moves the city to the uttermost depths of its feeling and expectation, and having stirred the city life into one vehement prayer, has the Amen upon his lips which can satisfy its every petition. Would that whole cities would cry unto him! That will never be done until individuals as such approach him in the right spirit. Do not therefore let us yearn for the movement of whole cities, but begin where we can, by every individual heart calling him "Lord," and crying unto him as Saviour and King. Speak you the holy word just now; poor broken bleeding heart call him Saviour: strong man without a tremor of weakness, a pang of pain, or an emotion of fear or distress, go over to his side and bless him for your strength, and offer it as a sacrifice upon his altar. And you, little children, may also join this act of loyal worship.

"And when the chief priests and scribes saw the wonderful things that he did, and the children crying in the temple," those children were boys: it is a masculine noun but, little girls, you may join the hymn. Boys and girls of every condition in life, rich and poor, well instructed and ignorant, you may bring your tribute of praise. You may be rebuked: the priests and scribes when they heard the boys crying in the temple and saying, "Hosanna to the son of David," were sore displeased. The boys were choristers in the temple: they were paid to sing, and they did not receive their money for the purpose of crying "Hosanna" to a foreigner, especially this Jesus of Nazareth and Galilee, and they thought that Christ himself ought to interfere and rebuke such enthusiasm. They said unto him, "Hearest thou what these say?" as if he did not hear everything. We are told that the great musician hears every instrument in the whole band. We have heard of one great conductor throwing up his baton because one instrument was not doing its duty in the great musical fray. He stopped, saying "Flageolet." The burst of music in all its swing, and fulness, and grandeur, and expressiveness, was not pleasing him because one small flageolet was missing its duty. As if Jesus did not hear who was singing in the congregation and who is not singing, as well, and it pains him to see some who ought to be singing who are not uniting their voices in the common praise. Yet singing is not a question of the voice only; do not say a man is not worshipping God in the song because he is not singing: one sings sympathetically as well as vocally. You sing with the spirit and with the understanding as well as with the voice. It is an error of a very mischievous kind to suppose that a man is not singing or praising God simply because he is not doing so vocally. I sing best with the greatest singer: when I hear one who can sing I sing with the singer. It carries my soul aloft: every heart-throb of mine heightens the great song.

Jesus Christ answered these men from their own standpoint. Observe, they were persons whose business it was to read the law and understand it, and again and again in his life Jesus Christ turned round upon these men and said, "Have ye never read?" They were spending a lifetime in reading the letter, and they seldom touched the vital spirit. These children were not singing extemporaneously; it was not a piece of haphazard work in the temple; this utterance of the boys was a fulfilment of prophecy. "Have ye never read, Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings thou hast perfected praise"? He had read everything. How did he come he was not a man of letters to have read everything? Because he had written everything. He was not the reader only, but the writer: he inspired Moses. "If ye believed Moses, ye would have believed me, for he wrote of me." And beginning at Moses and all the prophets and the psalms, he expounded unto his disciples, in all the scriptures, the things concerning himself.

Jesus Christ always said a kind word about the children. The disciples rebuked them, and he protected the dear little creatures. The priests and the scribes were sore distressed because of the children's voices, and Jesus said, "They are fulfilling prophecy." When did he turn any one away who would offer praise to his name or express gratitude for his goodness? What I want to do myself is not to send him my colt or gold or flowers or branches or clothes, and not to join only in some loud loyal cry of delight, but to offer him my poor, wounded, guilty SELF. If he will accept me, cleanse me, make me without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, purify me by the washing and cleansing of his own blood, then the house is his, and the garden, and the business, and the bank. Having secured the heart, he has secured all.