The Crowd or the City?

The Road to Jerusalem

When the crowd spreads their coats on the road for Jesus to ride over, they are doing what subjects had always done before their king.

In the ancient world, to lay your garment before a king was to put yourself beneath his feet. The garment was you. It carried your identity, your standing, your whole person. That is what the crowd is doing on the road into Jerusalem. Every coat on the ground is a person saying, “Reign over me. You are my King.” Their whole lives lay in the road.

And the branches waving in the air — those aren't just a festive decoration. Those are the branches of the Feast of Tabernacles, the great harvest feast where Israel waved palms before the Lord and cried for his salvation. These people aren't improvising. They are performing the liturgy of the coming King.

With coats and palm branches below, the King walks through a corridor of total surrender — earth and heaven both given over to him.

From Troubled to Trembling

When Jesus enters the city, all of Jerusalem is shaken—Trembling.

Matthew 21:10- “When He had entered Jerusalem, all the city was stirred, saying, “Who is this?”

The Word “Stirred” is the Greek word from which we get “Seismic.” The city was experiencing seismic activity like that of an earthquake. They were trembling at the arrive of Jesus into the city. Jesus and Jerusalem have a unique relationship. This isn’t the first time that the city of Jerusalem has experienced tension with Jesus.

When Jesus was born, Herod and all Jerusalem were troubled.

Matthew 2:3- “When Herod the king heard this, he was troubled, and all Jerusalem with him.”

There is something the City doesn’t like about Jesus's presence, it seems. It causes them to fear, to be troubled, and to tremble. And this is a little awkward for the city whose very name means City of Peace— Jeru-Shalom. But there is no peace in Jerusalem when Jesus, the Prince of Peace, comes near. Only trouble. Only trembling. 

That is because peace, real peace, requires submission. And Jerusalem will not submit. The city cannot reconcile itself to a King it did not choose, a Messiah who doesn't fit its plans, a Lord who demands more than it is willing to give.

We learn from Jesus what he thinks about this tension between them in

Matthew 23:37–38

37 “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, who kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to her! How often I wanted to gather your children together, the way a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you were unwilling. 38 “Behold, your house is being left to you desolate!

Instead of joining the crowd in their surrender to Jesus as their King, the city asks the question — "Who is this?" — dismissing Jesus altogether. The City doesn’t want the real answer because if the answer is the Son of David, the King of Israel, the Lord coming to his city, then everything has to change for the city. It plans, its agenda, it power all have to shift to meet the intentions of the King. But the city would rather ask the question and keep its distance.

Changing their tune.

While the City keeps its distance, the crowd becomes influenced by the city. Notice what happens when the crowd enters the city. They have been shouting "Son of David! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!" — bold, royal, messianic language. Then the city asks who this is, and the crowd gives a different answer. Not Son of David. Not King. Just: the prophet from Nazareth in Galilee.

Matthew 21:11- “And the crowds were saying, ‘This is the prophet Jesus, from Nazareth in Galilee.”

Either they are backing down under the pressure of the city — deflating Jesus' title to something safer, something the city can handle — or they are piling on: he's not just the King, he's also the Prophet. Either way, the city is trembling as the crowd celebrates King Jesus, and though the city trembles, it will get the crowd to change their tune.

The same crowd that cried Hosanna will stand before Pilate and cry, "Crucify him.” The leaders of Jerusalem persuade the crowd to call for Barabbas.

Matthew 27:20- “But the chief priests and the elders persuaded the crowds to ask for Barabbas and to put Jesus to death.”

The city wins. The crowd folds. The coats come up off the road.

This is a sobering thought. This story of the “folding” of the crowd by the “persuasion” of the city is something that should confront every Christian who confesses Jesus as King on Sunday and lets the city run his life the other six days.

The Death of Death

But the Gospel of Matthew reveals an interesting turn. The city thinks it wins. Jerusalem gets what it wants. Jesus is arrested, tried, and executed. The King is put in the ground.

What they meant for evil, Jesus uses for good. He doesn't come to Jerusalem to avoid death. He comes to look death in the eye and beat it. He passes through their plots and their violence and goes straight to man's oldest enemy — and he defeats him.

And Jesus stands over death as victor and taunts it: "O death, where is your victory? Where is your sting?" (1 Corinthians 15:55).

The city of fear becomes the city of peace. What happened to Jesus in Jeru-Shalom gave everyone who believes peace that surpasses all understanding. The city couldn't contain him. The grave couldn't hold him. And now the peace he purchased belongs to all who will receive it.

City or Crowd

This gospel lesson presents us with two options. The crowd or the city.

The crowd lays down their coats. They wave their branches. They cry hosanna. They put themselves beneath the feet of the King and say: Reign over me. Rule over me. You get first dibs.

The city trembles, asks questions, keeps its distance, and eventually talks the crowd into joining them.

Here is the hard question for Holy Week: Which one are you? Not which one do you want to be. Which one are you, actually, when the week gets going and the city starts calling?

Because the city will call. Your employer will call. Your coach will call. Your schedule will call. And each call will come with a quiet pressure to put Jesus second, to show up at church if there's time left over, to let worship be the thing you fit in around everything else.

There was a time when the church influenced the city. Coaches didn't schedule practices on Wednesday nights because no one would have shown up. Sundays were not a backup option. They were the center of community life because the church was the center of community life.

That has reversed. For many Christians today, worship is the first thing to go. Church is the first thing that gets compromised. And I say this not to shame anyone. I say it because the passage warns us. The crowd that cried Hosanna is the same crowd that cried crucify him. The difference was who they allowed to influence and rule their lives. You cannot serve two masters:

Matthew 6:24-“No one can serve two masters; for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to one and despise the other.”

This Holy Week — from now through Easter — is a proving ground.

Could you tell the city this week that King Jesus rules your schedule? Could you tell the coach, tell the employer, tell whoever holds your calendar, that this week you are offering your time to the One who gave his life? Could you use a vacation day, rearrange a practice, decline an invitation — and spend that time with the people of God, remembering what he has done?

I'm not naïve about the pressures. But I believe Christians are supposed to influence the world around them, not be shaped by it. That starts with one person deciding that their coat goes on the road this week.

Who Is This?

The city asked: Who is this?

Jesus is asking you, “Who are you? City or crowd? Trembling or surrendered?” Are you the one asking from a safe distance — or are you the one with your coat in the road? How you live this and what you do this week will tell you the answer.

Peace be with you,

Pastor Bruce