Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit · Sermon No. 1861
Delivered on Thursday Evening, June 25th, 1885, by, the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington.
“Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion; shout, O daughter of Jerusalem: behold, thy King cometh unto thee: he is just, and having salvation, lowly, and riding upon an ass, and upon a colt the foal of an ass.”—Zechariah 9:9.
I. DO not intend to expound the whole text at any length, but simply to dwell upon the lowliness of Jesus. Yet this much I may say: whenever God would have his people especially glad, it is always in himself. If it be written, “Rejoice greatly,” then the reason is, “Behold, thy King cometh unto thee!” Our chief source of rejoicing is the presence of King Jesus in the midst of us. Whether it be his first or his second advent, his very shadow is delight. His footfall is music to our ear.
That delight springs much from the fact that he is ours. “Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion: … behold, thy King cometh unto thee.” Whatever he may be to others, he is thy King, and to whomsoever he may or may not come, he cometh unto thee. He comes for thy deliverance, thine honor, thy consummated bliss. He keeps thy company: he makes thy house his palace, thy love his solace, thy nature his his home. He who is thy King by hereditary right, by his choice of thee, by his redemption of thee, and by thy willing choice of him, is coming to thee; therefore do thou shout for joy.
The verse goes on to show why the Lord our King is such a source of gladness: “He is just, and having salvation.” He blends righteousness and mercy; justice to the ungodly, and favor to his saints. He has worked out the stern problem—how can God be just, and yet save the sinful? He is just in his own personal character, just as having borne the penalty of sin, and just as cleared from the sin which he voluntarily took upon him. Having endured the terrible ordeal, he is saved, and his people are saved in him. He is to be saluted with hosannas, which signify, “Save, Lord”; for where he comes he brings victory and consequent salvation with him. He routs the enemies of his people, breaks for them the serpent’s head, and leads their captivity captive. We admire the justice which marks his reign, and the salvation which attends his sway; and in both respects we cry, “Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord”!
Moreover, it is written of him that he is lowly, which cannot be said of many kings and princes of the earth; nor would they care to have it said of them. Thy King, O daughter of Jerusalem, loves to have his lowliness published by thee with exceeding joy. His outward state betokens the humility and gentleness of his character. He appears to be what he really is: he conceals nothing from his chosen. In the height of his grandeur he is not like the proud monarchs of earth. The patient ass he prefers to the noble charger; and he is more at home with the common people than with the great. In his grandest pageant, in his capital city, he was still consistent with his meek and lowly character, for he came “riding upon an ass.” He rode through Jerusalem in state; but what lowliness marked the spectacle! It was an extemporized procession, which owed nothing to Garter-king-at-arms, but everything to the spontaneous love of friends. An ass was brought, and its foal, and his disciples sat him thereon. Instead of courtiers in their robes, he was surrounded by common peasants and fishermen, and children of the streets of Jerusalem: the humblest of men and the youngest of the race shouted his praises. Boughs of trees and garments of friends strewed the road, instead of choice flowers and costly tapestries: it was the pomp of spontaneous love, not the stereotyped pageantry which power exacts of fear. With half an eye every one can see that this King is of another sort from common princes, and his dignity of another kind from that which tramples on the poor. According to the narrative, as well as the prophecy, there would seem to have been two beasts in the procession. I conceive that our Lord rode on the foal, for it was essential that he should mount a beast which had never been used before. God is not a sharer with men; that which is consecrated to his peculiar service must not have been aforetime devoted to lower uses. Jesus rides a colt whereon never man sat. But why was the mother there? Did not Jesus say of both ass and foal, “Loose them, and bring them unto me”? This appears to me to be a token of his tenderness: he would not needlessly sever the mother from her foal. I like to see a farmer’s kindness when he allows the foal to follow when the mare is ploughing or labouring; and I admire the same thoughtfulness in our Lord. He careth for cattle, yea, even for an ass and her foal. He would not even cause a poor beast a needless pang by taking away its young; and so in that procession the beast of the field took its part joyfully, in token of a better age in which all creatures shall be delivered from bondage, and shall share the blessings of his unsuffering reign. Our Lord herein taught his disciples to cultivate delicacy, not only towards each other, but towards the whole creation. I like to see in Christian people a reverence towards life, a tenderness towards all God’s creatures. There is much of deep truth in those lines of “The Ancient Mariner”:—