Because of Lazarus's resurrection, Jesus' fame had increased and when He entered Jerusalem the crowds welcomed Him as King of Israel. Dr. Sproul expounds on the significance of the greeting Jesus was given as well as the use of a donkey's colt and how that relates to both the prophecies of Psalm 113, Psalm 118, and Zechariah 9:9-10 to ensure all first advent prophecy is fulfilled.

Some of us suffer from short-term memory loss, and things move so quickly that we sometimes feel like we have experienced a Rip Van Winkle episode where time has passed us by while we were napping. To the best of my recollection, this past Wednesday was Ash Wednesday, which marks the beginning of the Lenten season. So, we would not expect to be observing Palm Sunday for many weeks to come.

Yet, the text this morning is the biblical narrative of Palm Sunday. But let me assure you, you have not been asleep. Time has not passed you by. It is simply that this is where we are in our study of the gospel according to Saint John, and we are going to follow the text rather than the church calendar.

I ask the congregation to stand for the reading of the gospel. We will be reading from John 12:9–19:

Now a great many of the Jews knew that He was there; and they came, not for Jesus’ sake only, but that they might also see Lazarus, whom He had raised from the dead. But the chief priests plotted to put Lazarus to death also, because on account of him many of the Jews went away and believed in Jesus.

The next day a great multitude that had come to the feast, when they heard that Jesus was coming to Jerusalem, took branches of palm trees and went out to meet Him, and cried out:

“Hosanna!
‘Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!’
The King of Israel!”

Then Jesus, when He had found a young donkey, sat on it; as it is written:

“Fear not, daughter of Zion;
Behold, your King is coming,
Sitting on a donkey’s colt.”

His disciples did not understand these things at first; but when Jesus was glorified, then they remembered that these things were written about Him and that they had done these things to Him.

Therefore the people, who were with Him when He called Lazarus out of his tomb and raised him from the dead, bore witness. For this reason the people also met Him, because they heard that He had done this sign. The Pharisees therefore said among themselves, “You see that you are accomplishing nothing. Look, the world has gone after Him!”

He who has ears to hear the Word of God, let him hear it. You may be seated. Let us pray.

Now, our Father, as we look once again at the triumphal entry of Jesus into Jerusalem, we pray that You will give us understanding, for our edification and for the edification of Your church, by illuminating this text by the power of the Holy Spirit. For we ask it in Jesus’ name. Amen.

A Multitude at the Feast

The triumphal entry of Jesus is introduced here in John chapter 12 after a brief transition phrase telling us that, in addition to the Sanhedrin’s plot to have Jesus executed, there was a plot to destroy Lazarus. The news of his resurrection was spreading across the land, adding fuel to the popular response to Jesus, which the Sanhedrin so desperately feared. It would be to their advantage to get rid of not only Jesus but also Lazarus, for if Lazarus were put to death, it would be more difficult to proclaim his resurrection.

I would like to pick up the text at verse 12, where we read this account: “The next day a great multitude had come to the feast.” From those words alone, and from further descriptions of the waving of palms, we may be tempted to think that this event takes place not during Passover but during the Feast of Tabernacles, when palm branches were customarily used as part of the celebration.

Fortunately for our benefit, this is one of those few episodes in the life of Jesus that is recorded in all four Gospels. Because of the confirmation of the rest of the Gospels, we know that this event took place not at the Feast of Tabernacles but in conjunction with the pilgrims flooding into Jerusalem in preparation for the celebration of the Passover.

We are also told in the text that a great multitude had come to the feast. We are not given exact numbers of the people who came to Jerusalem, but remember that this was a solemn obligation for every Jew. Since the days of King Josiah, people were not permitted to celebrate Passover in their local communities but were called to travel to the central sanctuary in Jerusalem to keep the feast.

We do not know how many were there. We do know from the testimony of the Jewish historian Josephus that later on in the first century, in the year AD 64 or 65, on the occasion of the celebration of the Passover, the attendance was 2.7 million Jews who came to Jerusalem. That does not include the foreigners—non-Jews—who were there, nor those who had been excluded from the Jewish community because of one defilement or another.

In the short period of time after this text, we know that well over two million people assembled in Jerusalem for the Feast of the Passover. So, we would expect close to two million visitors coming into the Holy City. If you think we are going to be inundated next Sunday with out-of-town guests who are visiting after the Ligonier conference, you can think back to what Jerusalem had to deal with whenever the annual Passover was celebrated.

Palm Branches of Victory

We are told that when the people heard that Jesus was coming to Jerusalem, they took branches of the palm trees and went out to meet Him. They cried out:

Hosanna!
“Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!”

When I was a boy growing up in western Pennsylvania and we had Palm Sunday services, it was a big deal that the ushers would hand out palm branches for us to use on that occasion. That was about as close to Florida as any of us had ever experienced. The church had to send away for the palm branches, which were rare to us.

Of course, if we wanted to celebrate with palm branches here in Central Florida, we could just go across the street and cut enough to celebrate with tens of thousands of people. That was the way it was in Jerusalem, then and now. The date palms were so plentiful that palm branches were easily accessible to anyone who would break them off of the trees. That was not the difficulty.

But what is strange about this text, as I have already hinted, is that palm branches were used for this public display of Jesus’ entrance into Jerusalem even though it was not the Feast of Tabernacles. It was at the Feast of Tabernacles that palm branches had been used in Jewish history.

However, in the intertestamental period, something took place that would define the people, in terms of their national identity, for centuries to come. While the Jews were under Syrian occupation and the temple had been desecrated by Antiochus Epiphanes, Mattathias, a Jewish man who was committed to the ancient covenant of Israel, was determined to rescue the temple and the nation from the invasion of the Syrians. Mattathias became the head of a guerrilla group that fought against the Syrians in hit-and-run raids.

At the time of Mattathias’ death, the leadership of this insurrectionist movement passed to his son Judas. He became known as Judas Maccabeus, which means “the hammer.” Judas Maccabeus became a national hero, a sort of local Robin Hood who wreaked havoc among the Syrian military troops. He was responsible for putting so much pressure on the Syrians that, in 164 BC, they released the temple in Jerusalem, allowing the Jews to celebrate and practice their own religious faith.

That event was met with so much celebration that a new feast was instituted, called the Feast of Dedication, the Feast of Lights, or Hanukkah, which is celebrated even to this day. Judas Maccabeus was not working to get rid of the Syrians, but simply to restore freedom of religion in the temple at Jerusalem, and he was able to achieve that.

Later on, Judas’ brother, Simon Maccabeus, wreaked so much havoc against the Syrians that he drove them out of Jerusalem altogether. When that took place, Simon was acclaimed as a national hero and celebrated with a parade, very much like a ticker-tape parade we would have in New York City for a conquering hero. In that parade, the Jews celebrated his victory with music and with the waving of palm branches.

At that point in Jewish history, the palm branch became significant not only as a reminder of the tabernacles of the Old Testament but also as a symbol of military victory and triumph. In fact, that symbol became so deeply rooted in the Jewish consciousness that when they later revolted against the Romans around AD 60 and dared to mint their own coins, they stamped the image of a palm branch on the face of those coins. The palm branch became their national symbol of victory.

It is also sad to report that when the Romans squashed the revolt and destroyed Jerusalem, they minted their own coins, which showed the Romans destroying the palm branch—but that is another story that we can look at later. In any case, there is a rich history behind the significance of waving the palm branch for those who were victorious in battle.

Hosanna!

Notice that when they waved the palm branches, they cried out the following words:

Hosanna!
“Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!”
The King of Israel!

Why did they say this? Let me give you a pop quiz. I am going to give you some words. See if you can, in your own mind, without answering out loud, remember the origin of these words: “Joy to the world, the Lord is come.”

Have you ever heard those words? How many of you have heard those words? You have heard them time and time again because they are part of the lyrics of the song “Joy to the World,” which we sing every Advent season as one of our most beloved Christmas carols.

The word hosanna is a plea that God would save right now. The words “Hosanna, blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord” were as well known to every Jewish pilgrim as the words “Joy to the world, the Lord is come” are to us.

Every year, during the Feast of Tabernacles, the Hallel was sung for a week in the ceremonies. The Hallel was a series of psalms, Psalms 113–118. Those Psalms were part of the liturgy of the Feast of Tabernacles, and the Jewish choir would sing the Psalms every morning during the celebration of the Feast.

To refresh our memories, let us go back and look at Psalm 118. I would like to pick it up at verse 19:

Open to me the gates of righteousness;
I will go through them,
And I will praise the Lord.
This is the gate of the Lord,
Through which the righteous shall enter.

I will praise You,
For You have answered me,
And have become my salvation.

The stone which the builders rejected
Has become the chief cornerstone.
This was the Lord’s doing;
It is marvelous in our eyes.
This is the day the Lord has made;
We will rejoice and be glad in it. (Ps. 118:19–24)

Now listen to the words of verse 25 and following. When he says, “Save now,” it is the word hosanna in the text:

Save now, I pray, O Lord;
O Lord, I pray, send now prosperity.
Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!
We have blessed you from the house of the Lord. (Ps. 118:25–26)

All Jewish pilgrims were familiar with the words of this psalm; so when they came out to see Jesus and began to throw their clothes in front of His procession and wave their palm branches, they were using the words of the Hallel, saying:

Hosanna!
“Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!”

They were looking for the coming of their king, and that is what this celebration was all about. Again:

Hosanna!
“Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!”
The King of Israel!

The Lowly King

Then, something very strange takes place. We are told:

Then Jesus, when He had found a young donkey, sat on it; as it is written:

“Fear not, daughter of Zion;
Behold, your King is coming,
Sitting on a donkey’s colt.”

Then we get John’s editorial comment that the disciples did not understand these things at first. It was not until the glory of Jesus was made manifest, presumably in the resurrection, that they remembered the significance of this.

The tumultuous crowd was going wild, singing the praises of the Hallel and welcoming Jesus as the king of Israel. Military victories were celebrated by the hero being mounted on the steed of a warrior. Kings would ride the royal steed into their place of accession to the throne. But Jesus, knowing what is coming, gives explicit directions to His disciples to go and loose this donkey that had never been ridden.

It was a young donkey, a small donkey. If you have ever been to the Holy Land and seen the donkeys that people ride, you know they are nothing like the mules or donkeys that we are used to seeing in this country. They are much smaller, so grown men have to bend their knees when they ride these donkeys so that their feet do not hit the ground as they go quickly to and fro.

Jesus, instead of riding the steed of a military victor or a king, enters on a lowly donkey. He is self-consciously identifying with the messianic prophecy that we find in the book of Zechariah in the Old Testament. Let me refresh your memory of that by reading from Zechariah 9:9–10:

Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion!
Shout, O daughter of Jerusalem!
Behold, your King is coming to you;
He is just and having salvation,
Lowly and riding on a donkey,
A colt, the foal of a donkey.
I will cut off the chariot from Ephraim
And the horse from Jerusalem;
The battle bow shall be cut off.
He shall speak peace to the nations;
His dominion shall be “from sea to sea,
And from the River to the ends of the earth.”

This coming Messiah with whom Jesus identifies is not the messiah that the people want. The people want someone to come into town, riding on a horse, who will drive the Romans out. But Jesus identifies Himself as God’s Messiah, the Messiah who is to come in lowliness, meekness, and humility, and who will be the Prince of Peace.

Jesus is the King, the true King, who comes into town, and the people are shouting their appreciation. These are the same people who, presumably, a few days later, are screaming for His blood because Jesus did not do what they wanted Him to do. It should be a lesson to all of us who come to Jesus with our private agendas. We make our demands to Him, and we become disappointed, then angry, and sometimes bitter when He does not do things the way we would like to do them.

When Jesus came, He was not denying that He was their king. He was affirming that He was their king—but He was the King that God had appointed, not the king they had conjured up in their own expectations. He was the One who was blessed, who came in the name of the Lord.

Christ Is Present

It is to that King’s table that we have been invited this morning. I remind the congregation that here at Saint Andrew’s Chapel, we adopt the theological confession known as the Westminster Confession of Faith. We hold to the classic, historic Reformed understanding of the Lord’s Supper—which, in many Reformed circles, has been obscured to this day and confused with the Zwinglian idea that the Lord’s Supper is merely a sign of the presence of Christ.

No, we embrace and teach the real presence of Christ at the Lord’s Supper. But we ask the question, How is it possible for Christ to be present here when He went away and ascended into heaven? We know that His human nature does not magically become divine so that His human body can be in Pittsburgh, Boston, Orlando, Paris, and Rome all at the same time.

Where is Jesus’ human body? Right now, as I speak, His human body is at the right hand of God. But that human body is still perfectly united with the divine nature. The divine nature is never restricted by the limits of space and time. So, through His divine nature, Christ is made really present to us, and His person is really here.

It has been asked, “Does that mean that the Spirit brings Him down from heaven where we meet Him?” Maybe. It is more likely that He raises us up. We are told in the book of Hebrews that when we come to worship, we have a mystical union with Christ. In that mystical union, which is real, we have a real, spiritual entrance into heaven.

Let me take a moment and ask you this: Where do you suppose heaven is? How many miles away? Have you looked it up on your atlas lately? Is it east of the sun and west of the moon? Do you remember when Yuri Gagarin, the cosmonaut for the Soviet Union, became the first man in space? He came back from space and cynically said that he did not see God up there.

I do not know where it is, but I have often wondered if the distance between Earth and heaven is not measured in light-years, but by a barrier of a dimension. It might be right in our very midst, beyond our understanding. It cannot be measured in feet or inches or miles. That may seem strange, and indeed it is speculative. At the same time, we also understand that every day of our existence, we move and live and have our being in such a dimensional mystery.

Where is your mind? Some people may think you have lost it—you may have accused me of that. Maybe I left it in the parking lot. Where is it? Despite all the attempts by naturalists and skeptics to reduce the mind to mere physical impulses, it remains an irrefutable concept that, in terms of our being, there must be a clear distinction between the nature of mind and the nature of body.

An idea cannot be contained in a test tube or in a laboratory. We are conscious of the difference between our brains and our thoughts. Indeed, if we hurt our brains, we can do violence to the type of thinking we do. We know that, in this lifetime, there is a relationship between body and mind, but never an identity.

One philosopher was asked, “What is mind?” He answered, “No matter.” When he was asked, “What is matter?” he said, “Never mind.” He got down to the essence of this.

I do not want to get carried away. But right now, as I am thinking, I understand that there is some kind of transition, some kind of portal between my brain and my mind, that no one has ever been able to penetrate. Yet my mind is real.

Whatever it is that divides us from seeing the risen Christ, and wherever heaven is this morning—I do not know—but wherever it is, I am fully confident that the God of heaven and earth, in the person of His Son, is right here, right now. He invites us to come truly and really into His presence, where, because of our mystical union, we will be fed, nurtured, and strengthened by Him.

This transcript has been lightly edited for readability.