First Baptist Church Litchfield
October 18, 2026

      • 1 Chronicles 29:11ESV

  • Majesty
  • We Have Come Into His House

      • 2 Corinthians 12:8–9ESV

  • Redeemed
  • I Will Sing The Wondrous Story

      • Hebrews 9:11–12ESV

  • Jesus Paid It All (Christ I Owe)

  • A King is Coming

    About 170 years before Jesus rode into Jerusalem, another deliverer entered the city to the sound of celebration. His name was Simon Maccabeus. He had driven the last Syrian garrison out of the citadel in Jerusalem, and 1 Maccabees tells us the people entered with praise and palm branches, with harps and cymbals and songs, because a great enemy had been crushed and removed from Israel.
    Faithful Jews never forgot that day. Palm branches became a symbol of national victory, a reminder of what it looked like when God raised up a deliverer to set His people free.
    So when Jesus approaches Jerusalem and the crowds begin cutting branches and spreading them on the road, when they shout, “Hosanna to the Son of David,” many of them were expecting another Simon. They wanted a deliverer who would drive out Rome the way Simon had driven out Syria. They wanted a king who would win back the city and restore the throne of David.
    And in one sense, they were right. Their King had come, and He had come to defeat an enemy.
    But they did not yet understand the totality of Jesus’ mission and who that enemy was. Simon drove out a Syrian garrison. Jesus came to drive out sin and death. Simon delivered a city for a generation. Jesus came to deliver His people forever. Simon conquered by the sword. Jesus would conquer by the cross.
    That is why Matthew says, “Behold, your king is coming to you.” Not the king you imagined. Jesus not your political, or your warrior king, at least not yet. But He is the King God has given. And as Jesus enters Jerusalem, Matthew shows us exactly what kind of King He is.

    Behold your King, Jesus, who enters Jerusalem as the promised soverign, majestic, and meek king.

    He is sovereign in His purpose, for nothing about this entrance happens by accident. He is majestic in His identity, for He is the Son of David, the promised King of Israel. And He is meek in His saving mission, for He comes not on a war horse but on a donkey, not to take life but to give it.
    So Matthew says to us what the prophet first said to Israel: “Behold, your king is coming to you.”

    I. The Promised King Comes to His People — Matthew 21:1–11

    Matthew begins, “Now when they drew near to Jerusalem and came to Bethphage, to the Mount of Olives.” Jesus has been moving toward Jerusalem throughout this section of Matthew’s Gospel. He has repeatedly told His disciples what will happen when He gets there. He will be delivered over to the chief priests and scribes, condemned to death, handed over to the Gentiles, mocked, flogged, and crucified, and on the third day He will be raised. Now He has arrived.
    And as Jesus enters Jerusalem, Matthew wants us to see exactly who is entering the city. This is not merely another Galilean pilgrim coming to celebrate Passover. The promised King has come to His people.

    The Promised King Is Sovereign — vv. 1–3

    “1 Now when they drew near to Jerusalem and came to Bethphage, to the Mount of Olives, then Jesus sent two disciples, 2 saying to them, “Go into the village in front of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her. Untie them and bring them to me. 3 If anyone says anything to you, you shall say, ‘The Lord needs them,’ and he will send them at once.”” Matthew 21:1–3
    First, we see Jesus’s sovereignty. Jesus sends two disciples into the village and tells them exactly what they will find: a donkey tied, and a colt with her. Untie them and bring them to me.”
    Then Jesus tells them what to say if anyone questions them: “The Lord needs them.”
    One of the key words for seeing Jesus’s sovereignty is the word “Lord.” Lord can mean master in the ordinary human sense, but throughout the Gospels it is also used to describe Jesus’s divine authority. Jesus is the Lord of the Sabbath. He is David’s Lord. And here the Lord sovereignly prepares everything necessary for His entrance into Jerusalem.
    Jesus has shown His sovereignty throughout His ministry. He stills storms. He feeds the hungry. He heals the sick. He casts out demons. He knows what His disciples are thinking. He repeatedly predicts His own arrest, death, and resurrection. And this is beautiful because Jesus knows exactly what He is getting into by entering Jerusalem.
    Jesus’s entrance into Jerusalem was no accident. Neither was it an attempt by a revolutionary leader to spark a revolt. Jesus is deliberately entering Jerusalem according to the sovereign plan of God.
    After the cross, Peter would say that Jesus was “delivered up according to the definite plan and foreknowledge of God” (Acts 2:23).
    Jesus Himself had already said: “I lay down my life that I may take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord” (John 10:17–18).
    Jesus does not enter Jerusalem as some unknowing victim. We do not serve a victim Messiah. We serve a sovereign Lord who voluntarily laid down His life according to the Father’s sovereign will and arose according to that same sovereign will.
    The Romans will crucify Him. The religious leaders will condemn Him. Judas will betray Him. But none of them will derail the sovereign plan of God. The King knows where He is going, He knows what awaits Him there, and He willingly goes to the cross.
    That means the cross was not God trying to salvage a plan that had gone wrong. The cross was the plan. Your salvation rests upon the sovereign purpose of the Father and the willing obedience of the Son. The same sovereign King who deliberately went to Jerusalem to accomplish your redemption can be trusted with every circumstance of your life.
    The Heidelberg Catechism opens with one of the most beloved questions in the history of the church:

    “What is your only comfort in life and in death?”

    And the answer is this:
    “That I, with body and soul, both in life and death, am not my own, but belong unto my faithful Saviour Jesus Christ; who, with His precious blood, has fully satisfied for all my sins, and delivered me from all the power of the devil; and so preserves me that without the will of my heavenly Father not a hair can fall from my head; yea, that all things must be subservient to my salvation.”
    Notice how the catechism holds those two things together. The Christ who shed His precious blood for your sins is the same Christ who preserves you so that not a hair falls from your head apart from the Father’s will. The sovereignty that carried Him to the cross is the sovereignty that carries you through every day of your life.
    That is your only comfort. Not that your circumstances will always be easy, but that you belong to a King who is never out of control. He never allows your life to spin helplessly out of control. Your suffering, your tribulation, your sanctification, is all governed by the sovereign grace of Christ. Jesus knew what awaited Him in Jerusalem, and He went willingly. He knows what awaits you, today and tomorrow, and He promises to never leave or forsake you to fate or willy nilly circumstance, and even promises to work everything for your good (Romans 8:28). Behold your sovereign King.

    The Promised King Is Majestic — vv. 4–9

    Second, we see Jesus’s majesty. Matthew makes explicit what was more subtle in Mark’s account. Jesus does not simply happen to find a donkey. Matthew tells us: “This took place to fulfill what was spoken by the prophet.”
    And then Matthew quotes the prophetic promise of Zechariah 9:9:
    “Say to the daughter of Zion, ‘Behold, your king is coming to you.’”
    Do not miss those words: “Your King is coming to you.”
    Jesus is deliberately presenting Himself as Israel’s promised King. Riding a donkey was not degrading in Israel’s history. It was associated with royalty, particularly the royal line of David. Jesus, the Son of David, enters David’s city riding upon a donkey.
    Then the crowd responds accordingly:
    “Most of the crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road.”
    Spreading cloaks before someone was an act of royal honor. We see something similar when Jehu was proclaimed king in 2 Kings 9:13:
    “They hurried and each man took his garment and put it under him on the bare steps, and they blew the trumpet and proclaimed, ‘Jehu is king.’”
    Everything about the scene is announcing royalty.
    Then the crowds cry:
    “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!”
    “Hosanna” is a Hebrew expression meaning, “Save, I pray!” The people were literally crying, “Save us! Save us!” And they were saying it to the Son of David. They were correct about His royal position, but confused about His mission purpose.
    Many were looking for a king who would deliver Israel from Rome. Palm branches had become associated with Jewish nationalism and liberation. They wanted political freedom. They wanted the restoration of David’s earthly kingdom. They wanted someone to throw off their oppressors. They wanted another Simon Maccabeus.
    They cried, “Save us!” And Jesus had come to save them, but from an enemy far greater than Rome. He came to save His people from their sins, from the wrath of God.
    They needed deliverance from the guilt of sin, the power of sin, the judgment of God, and ultimately death itself.
    They wanted a king who would defeat Caesar. God sent them a King who would do more than defeat Caesar. He would defeat sin, Satan, and death.
    And Matthew tells us that when Jesus entered Jerusalem, “the whole city was stirred up, saying, ‘Who is this?’”
    That is the question Matthew wants every reader to answer. Who is this?
    He is not simply “the prophet Jesus, from Nazareth of Galilee.” He is the Son of David. He is Israel’s promised Messiah. He is the majestic King.
    We can make the same mistake as the crowd. We can want Jesus primarily to fix our circumstances, to heal the sickness, repair the marriage, straighten out the children, rescue the finances, fix the country, or remove whatever Rome happens to be oppressing us. Christ certainly cares about our suffering, but He came to address our deepest problem.
    Our country needs more than a revival for capitalism or more people who love the constitution. We don’t need more liberalism or conservatism, or even the right president. We need more than changed circumstances. We need a Messiah, Savior, a King who can not only conquer the geographic world, but the wrath of God for our sin. Jesus’ mission was so much bigger than Rome.
    History has seen the kind of king the crowd was hoping for. Three hundred and thirty years before Jesus rode into Jerusalem, another king entered another great city. In 331 BC, Alexander the Great marched into Babylon. The ancient historian Curtius Rufus tells us the people came out to meet him. They strewed the streets with flowers and garlands. They built silver altars along the road and burned incense. Babylon welcomed him as a liberator, the king who would set them free.
    Eight years later, Alexander died in that same city. He was thirty-two years old. The man who conquered the known world could not conquer a fever. The crowds, the flowers, and the incense could not keep him out of the grave.
    That is the king the crowd in Jerusalem wanted. A conqueror. A liberator. Another Alexander, another Maccabeus, someone to drive out the empire. But every king like that eventually rides into his own Babylon and dies there.
    Jesus rode into Jerusalem knowing He would die there too. But His death would not be His defeat. It would be His victory. Alexander’s tomb has been lost to history. Jesus’ tomb is empty.
    This is a King whose reign reaches far beyond Jerusalem and far beyond Rome. Abraham Kuyper, the Dutch theologian and prime minister, captured it when he said:
    “There is not a square inch in the whole domain of our human existence over which Christ, who is Sovereign over all, does not cry: Mine!”
    Not just the White House or the county courthouse. Every square inch. Your home, your work, your grief, your future, your sin, your grave. He reigns over all of it.
    That is why the crowd’s request was too small. They asked Him to save them from Caesar. He came to save them from the wrath of God and to reign forever over a kingdom that will never be lost to history.
    And that is the King we need. Not a King who simply rearranges our circumstances, but a King who reigns over them, who conquered the grave that swallows every other king, and who will one day bring us safely through death into glory.
    Yet there is something surprising about this majestic King. The One who possesses sovereign authority and receives the praises of the crowd does not enter Jerusalem with the pomp we would expect from a king. Matthew emphasizes something else about Him.
    Hosanna to the Son of David. Save us, Lord. And He has…in one of the most extraordinary acts of humility.

    The Promised King Is Meek — vv. 10-11

    Third, we see His meekness. Listen again to the prophecy Matthew uses to interpret this entire scene: “Behold, your king is coming to you, humble, and mounted on a donkey.”
    There is the great contrast of the triumphal entry. He is a King, and yet He is humble. Jesus does not enter Jerusalem on a warhorse surrounded by an army. He comes riding on a donkey.
    Kings normally announced their greatness. They displayed their wealth, power, soldiers, horses, and weapons. Even today, when a president arrives in a city, airspace is restricted, roads are closed, motorcades move through the streets, security surrounds him, and crowds gather.
    But Jesus comes on a borrowed donkey. The sovereign, majestic King arrives in meekness, not pomp.
    And Luke tells us something else that helps us see the heart of this meek King. As Jesus approached Jerusalem, He wept over the city (Luke 19:41–44). He knew what their rejection would bring. Jerusalem would eventually be surrounded and devastated by the Romans. The temple itself would be destroyed in 70 AD.
    Jesus knew that turning away from God has severe consequences. Just as Adam turned from God in the Garden and death followed, here God’s people reject their Messiah, and judgment will follow. And Jesus weeps.
    That is meekness. His enemies will reject Him. Religious leaders will plot against Him. The crowds that celebrate Him will disappear. He will be mocked, beaten, and crucified. Yet He keeps riding toward Jerusalem.
    Meekness is not weakness. Meekness is strength willingly submitted to the will of God for the good of others.
    Jesus possesses all authority, yet He humbles Himself.
    The King could judge His enemies immediately, with legions of angels, yet He rides into Jerusalem to give His life for sinners. The King comes not first to crush His enemies, but to be crushed for His enemies. That is our King.
    But, do not mistake Christ’s meekness for weakness. The One who humbly rode into Jerusalem is the sovereign Lord of heaven and earth. And if our King willingly humbled Himself for us, then those who follow Him cannot pursue lives characterized by pride, self-promotion, and demands for recognition. Citizens of this King’s kingdom should increasingly resemble their King.
    The medieval church told a story about Heraclius. In the year 630, the Roman emperor Heraclius returned to Jerusalem in triumph. He had defeated the Persians and recovered what was believed to be a piece of the cross of Christ. According to the old legend, Heraclius came down the Mount of Olives on a royal horse, dressed in his imperial robes, intending to carry the cross into the city through the same gate Jesus had entered on Palm Sunday.
    But as he approached, the stones of the gate came down and sealed the entrance. And an angel appeared and said, in effect, “When the King of heaven passed through this gate, He did not come in royal splendor. He came humbly, riding on a donkey.”
    The story says the emperor wept. He took off his crown. He removed his royal robes and his shoes. And barefoot, carrying the cross, he walked toward the gate. And the gate opened.
    This is a legend, so take that for what it’s worth, but the church told that story for centuries because it was true to the gospel. No one enters the kingdom of the humble King in their own splendor. Not emperors. Not presidents. Not headmasters, pastors, or elders. Not you and not me. The way into this King’s city is the way He walked into it, low and humble.
    And that is not only a warning to the proud. It is a comfort to the broken. If the gate opens to those who come with nothing, then the King who rode through it must be gentle toward those who have nothing to bring.
    Earlier in his Gospel, Matthew quotes Isaiah to describe the kind of King Jesus is: “A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not quench” (Matthew 12:20).
    In 1630, the Puritan pastor Richard Sibbes wrote an entire book on that one verse called The Bruised Reed. He wanted weary, guilty, struggling Christians to see the gentleness of their King. And he gave the church one of its most precious sentences:
    “There is more mercy in Christ than sin in us.” Richard Sibbes, The Bruised Reed (1630)
    That is the heart of the King who rode into Jerusalem on a donkey. He did not come to snap bruised reeds, nor to snuff out smoldering wicks. He came to sinners who had nothing to offer Him but their sin, and He gave Himself for them.
    Some of you are bruised reeds this morning. You know your sin, and you wonder whether this King could ever receive you. Behold your King. He is humble. He is gentle. And there is more mercy in Him than sin in you.
    And if that is how our King has treated us, then that is how His people must treat one another. The meek King makes meek subjects. Those who have been handled gently by Christ cannot be harsh, proud, and demanding toward others. We must speak truth, but speak it in love. We must stand on our Christ-honoring convictions, maybe at the cost of our preferences. We who have received mercy become people of mercy.
    That is our King: sovereign, majestic, and meek. Behold, your King is coming to you.

    Bringing Verses 1–11 Together

    Matthew has shown us the promised King.

    He is sovereign—He knows exactly where He is going and willingly goes.

    He is majestic—He is the promised Son of David who comes to save His people.

    And He is meek—He comes not with the pomp of earthly kings but in humility, willingly moving toward the cross.

    The crowds cry, “Hosanna! Save us!”
    They do not yet understand how He will do it. But Jesus does.
    He will save them not by ascending a throne in Jerusalem, but by being lifted upon a cross outside Jerusalem.
    And that brings Matthew’s words directly to us: “Behold, your king is coming to you.”
    Behold Him as He is, your King. Trust your sovereign King. Worship your majestic King. Follow your meek King.
    Next week we will behold our King as He comes to His Temple.
  • I Need Thee Every Hour (I Come To Thee)
First Baptist Church Litchfield
pastorjason.fbcl@gmail.com
217-324-4232
http://www.firstbaptistlitchfield.org/
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