Matthew 21:10

"And when he had entered Jerusalem" etc. Here he treats of the glory exhibited to him in the city. And first, the wonder of the crowds is presented: "and the whole city was moved," i.e., was in wonder. Isa 60:5: "Then shalt thou see, and …

The multitude, being simple and guileless, were not spiteful towards Christ, but neither did they have the proper understanding of Who He was. Therefore they call Him "prophet." Yet since they said it with the article, "the prophet," it could be understood as "the long …

And when he was come into Jerusalem.....

So various are the motions in the minds of men upon the approach of Christ's kingdom! Upon this commotion we are further told, (1.) What the citizens said; Who is this? [1.] They were, it seems, ignorant concerning Christ.

All the city was moved - Or, the whole city was in motion. Εσεισθη, was in a tumult - they saw and heard plainly that the multitude had proclaimed Christ king, and Messiah. Who is this? Who is accounted worthy of this honor?

MANY things make a stir in a city and, sometimes, these stirs are full of evil. I always think, each time I read Carlyle's history of the French Revolution, how thankful we ought to be that the city of London has not been excited, from end to end, by political storms as the unhappy city of Paris was at that time and has been many times since. We are not grateful enough, I fear, for the social order and quiet which reign in our midst.

These verses contain a very remarkable passage in our Lord Jesus Christ’s life. They describe his public entry into Jerusalem when he came there for the last time, before he was crucified. There is something peculiarly striking in this incident in our Lord’s history. The narrative reads like the account of some royal conqueror’s return to his own city: “A very great multitude” accompanies him in a kind of triumphal procession. Loud cries and expressions of praise are heard around him: “All the city was moved.” The whole transaction is singularly at variance with the past tenor of our Lord’s life; it is curiously unlike the ways of him who did not “cry nor strive ” nor let his voice be heard “in the streets”—who withdrew himself from the multitude on other occasions, and sometimes said to those he healed, “See thou say nothing to any man.” ( Mark 1:44 ). And yet the whole transaction admits of explanation. The reasons of this public entry are not hard to find out. Let us see what they were. The plain truth is that our Lord knew well that the time of his earthly ministry was drawing to a close; he knew that the hour was approaching when he must finish the mighty work he came to do, by dying for our sins upon the cross. He knew that his last journey had been accomplished, and that there remained nothing now in his earthly ministry but to be offered as a sacrifice on Calvary. Knowing all this, he no longer, as in times past, sought secrecy; knowing all this, he thought it good to enter the place where he was to be delivered to death, with peculiar solemnity and publicity. It was not fitting that the Lamb of God should come to be slain on Calvary privately and silently. Before the great sacrifice for the sin of the world was offered up, it was right that every eye should be fixed on the victim.

These verses contain a very remarkable passage in our Lord Jesus Christ’s life. They describe his public entry into Jerusalem when he came there for the last time, before he was crucified. There is something peculiarly striking in this incident in our Lord’s history. The narrative reads like the account of some royal conqueror’s return to his own city: “A very great multitude” accompanies him in a kind of triumphal procession. Loud cries and expressions of praise are heard around him: “All the city was moved.”

MANY things make a stir in a city and, sometimes, these stirs are full of evil. I always think, each time I read Carlyle's history of the French Revolution, how thankful we ought to be that the city of London has not been excited, from end to end, by political storms as the unhappy city of Paris was at that time and has been many times since. We are not grateful enough, I fear, for the social order and quiet which reign in our midst. There are other countries where the people, when they go to bed at night, cannot tell what will be the form of government when they wake in the morning— whether they will still be free nations or beneath a tyrant's heel. I heard an excellent man—one highly esteemed among us—prophesy that before long the streets of London will run with blood. He was afraid of the power of the democracy of whom he stood in great terror. I confess that I have never participated in his fears for a single moment, for I fully believe that, by God's Grace, our country will continue for many years to enjoy the blessing which results from having a form of government which with all its faults and imperfections, is so satisfactory on the whole. May God grant that we may not, on some future day, have to remember with regret our ingratitude for the peace we now possess—when we have lost it— and may we all do our best to cement the various classes of society together and promote that Christian love, that spirit ofjustice and that spirit of philanthropy which will tend to hold together the whole nation in bonds that cannot easily be broken. Let us not be envious. Let us not be proud. Let us not oppress one another and let us not demand too much from one another. Let the golden rule be the rule of life to all with whom we are brought into contact.

OH, that something would move this great city of ours! I am afraid that at least one-third of our population is settling down in stolid indifference to all religion. It is not that there are thousands of professed infidels, but without making the profession of being so, infidels they really are. It is not that they hate the Gospel—they do not care to hear it, or to know what it teaches. They have not enough interest in it to enter the sanctuary even for once in their lives, unless influenced by fashion or by fear they may attend some ceremonial observance. I think we can hardly form a conception of the fearful heathenism of this great metropolis. You might go down street after street and find that the larger proportion of the people, so far from making any profession of religion, did not even enter a place of worship and knew nothing more than what the city missionary or the Bible woman may have been helped to teach them. We are getting into a very, very, very sad state of things—we need something or other that will get at the masses and compel the city to be moved. The theater services which have been lately attempted have no doubt proved a great blessing—the opening of cathedrals was a step in the right direction—but everybody can see that the effect of such departures from the ordinary routine is naturally transient. There will be no greater attraction in a theater than there will be in a chapel or church if the same Gospel is preached, after the novelty of its having been preached there shall have worn off. We can no more expect to see cathedrals crowded long together, now, than we might have expected it 20 years ago. The thing is good as an expedient, but it must be temporary in its results.

OH, that something would move this great city of ours! I am afraid that at least one-third of our population is settling down in stolid indifference to all religion. It is not that there are thousands of professed infidels, but without making the profession of being so, infidels they really are. It is not that they hate the Gospel—they do not care to hear it, or to know what it teaches.

THIS was not the first time that question had been asked, or asked concerning the same Person. "Who is this?" is a common question in reference to our Lord. "Who is this that comes from Edom, with dyed garments from Bozrah?" "Who is this king of glory?" and so on. Doubtless, the angels who are represented as standing on the Mercy Seat gazing down upon its golden brightness, desired to look into this very question in the olden times, and often said to one another, "Who is this?"

THIS was not the first time that question had been asked, or asked concerning the same Person. "Who is this?" is a common question in reference to our Lord. "Who is this that comes from Edom, with dyed garments from Bozrah?" "Who is this king of glory?" and so on. Doubtless, the angels who are represented as standing on the Mercy Seat gazing down upon its golden brightness, desired to look into this very question in the olden times, and often said to one another, "Who is this?" We hear the Prophet speak of One who is anointed with the oil of gladness above His fellows, and is therefore Man, but He is called by the same Prophet equal with God, Fellow of the Eternal! How can this be? "Who is this?" The subject of the Incarnation of a pure Spirit such as God is, in human flesh, must have been staggering even to the intellect of seraphs—and again and again they must have said, one to another

And when he was come into Jerusalem, all the city was moved - There was great excitement. The sight of such a multitude, the shouts of the people, and the triumphant procession through the city, excited much attention and inquiry.