Behold, Your King Comes

A sermon preached at Covenant Presbyterian Church of Fort Smith, Arkansas on August 9, 2026.

And when he had said these things, he went on ahead, going up to Jerusalem. When he drew near to Bethphage and Bethany, at the mount that is called Olivet, he sent two of the disciples, saying, “Go into the village in front of you, where on entering you will find a colt tied, on which no one has ever yet sat. Untie it and bring it here. If anyone asks you, ‘Why are you untying it?’ you shall say this: ‘The Lord has need of it.’” So those who were sent went away and found it just as he had told them. And as they were untying the colt, its owners said to them, “Why are you untying the colt?” And they said, “The Lord has need of it.” And they brought it to Jesus, and throwing their cloaks on the colt, they set Jesus on it. And as he rode along, they spread their cloaks on the road. As he was drawing near—already on the way down the Mount of Olives—the whole multitude of his disciples began to rejoice and praise God with a loud voice for all the mighty works that they had seen, saying, “Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!” And some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to him, “Teacher, rebuke your disciples.” He answered, “I tell you, if these were silent, the very stones would cry out” (Luke 19:28–40).[1]

There are passages of Scripture so closely associated with a particular day on the church calendar that we struggle to hear them outside that setting. Our text is one of them. We hear of Jesus riding toward Jerusalem, the disciples spreading their cloaks, and the multitude praising God, and immediately we think of Palm Sunday. But today is an ordinary Lord’s Day in August, and this may help us hear the passage afresh. For Luke draws our attention not primarily to a day on the calendar, but to the Lord Jesus himself: to the deliberate way he enters Jerusalem, the humility in which he comes, the peace he has come to accomplish, and the praise that cannot finally be silenced.

You will recall, back in Luke 9:51, Jesus “set his face to go to Jerusalem.” For ten chapters now, Luke has traced his journey. Along the way Jesus has taught about the kingdom, welcomed the outcast, and repeatedly warned that suffering and death awaited him in Jerusalem. Outside Jericho, a blind beggar recognized him as the Son of David. Inside the city, the Son of Man sought and saved a lost son of Abraham. And then, he told a parable about a nobleman who went away to receive a kingdom while his citizens demanded, “We do not want this man to reign over us” (19:14).

“And when he had said these things,” Luke tells us, “he went on ahead, going up to Jerusalem” (19:28). Jesus’ parable told of a rejected king who receives a kingdom, and now in reality Jesus approaches Jerusalem as that King. Understanding this, I want to draw out four truths about Jesus in our passage today. He is: The King who comes as promised; the King who comes in humility; the King who comes to make peace; and the King who must be praised.

The King Who Comes as Promised

As Jesus approaches Jerusalem, we must understand that he is not being carried along by circumstances. He is not caught up in the crowd’s enthusiasm or reluctantly approaching what he cannot avoid. He knows what awaits him, yet he leads the way. He has already told the Twelve that he will be mocked, shamefully treated, flogged, killed, and raised on the third day. The disciples do not understand, but the Good Shepherd does. Onward and upward, he goes to Jerusalem, to willingly lay down his life for his sheep.

As Jesus draws near to the villages along the eastern slopes of the Mount of Olives, he sends two disciples ahead with specific instructions. They will enter a village and find a colt tied there, on which no one has ever sat. They are to untie it and bring it to him. If anyone asks what they are doing, they are to say, “The Lord has need of it” (19:31). Luke then tells us, “So those who were sent went away and found it just as he had told them” (19:32).

J.C. Ryle says that this scene reveals the perfect knowledge of Christ. [2] Jesus knows the animal, its location, and even the question its owners will ask. Everything unfolds exactly as he has said.This should not surprise those who know who he truly is.

And there is a quiet majesty in the words, “The Lord has need of it,” isn’t there?The One who owns the cattle on a thousand hills chooses to make use of a colt in an obscure village. Even here, his dominion over all creatures is quietly displayed.

But the underlying question is: Why does Jesus require this colt? The distance was short enough to walk. Why, then, such specificity? The answer lies in the prophecy of Zechariah, through whom the Lord promised, “Behold, your king is coming to you; righteous and having salvation is he, humble and mounted on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey” (Zech. 9:9). Jesus is not simply looking for transportation. By deliberately fulfilling Zechariah’s prophecy, he is publicly revealing his place as Israel’s promised King. And so, the King comes exactly as God said he would.

This is one of the great assurances of the Christian faith: God keeps his Word. Generations may pass and kingdoms rise and fall, but at the appointed hour the promised King comes. The fulfillment of the promises concerning Christ’s first coming is the pledge of every promise that remains: he will build his Church, lose none whom the Father has given him, raise the dead, and make all things new.We do not see the road ahead, but our Lord sees the end from the beginning. The disciples found everything just as he had told them. Let us, then, take comfort: the path may be difficult, but the King who fulfilled this prophecy remains Lord over every detail of his redeeming purpose. But the manner in which the promised King comes is as important as the fact that he comes.

The King Who Comes in Humility

The disciples bring the colt to Jesus. They throw their cloaks upon it and set Jesus on it. Then, as he rides along, others spread their cloaks on the road in an act of royal homage. And yet, while this scene is faithful to prophecy, let us not miss that it is marked by humility. He does not ride upon a warhorse or before an army; no chariots, weapons, or displays of military strength. He rides “humble and mounted on a donkey,” not because he is weak, but because he has chosen the way of peace.

In Zechariah’s prophecy, the prophet tells us the King will cut off the chariot and warhorse, break the battle bow, and speak peace to the nations. His dominion will extend from sea to sea, a reign inaugurated in his first coming and brought to its fullness when he comes again. We must not then interpret the humility of Christ as the absence of royal authority but rather the manner in which he exercises it. He rides “humble and mounted on a donkey” because he is the King.”

And it is in the chosen humility of our king that we see the saving mission of the Son of God. Though he was in the form of God, he took the form of a servant. He humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross (Phil. 2:6–8). The King enters Jerusalem as he entered the world, in humility. He who was laid in a manger enters Jerusalem on a borrowed colt. And at his death, he will be stripped of his garments and laid in another man’s tomb. Yet none of this diminishes his glory. Far from concealing his glory, his humiliation reveals it, the glory of the Son who willingly gives himself for sinners.

The rulers of this world often preserve their power by sacrificing others. Jesus exercises his kingship by sacrificing himself. Earthly kings send their subjects into battle. This King goes into battle in the place of his people. He will not conquer by shedding the blood of his enemies but by shedding his own blood for them.

This is the King who comes to us in the gospel, and we must receive him as he is, not as the king we would prefer him to be. Some want a king who guarantees ease and prosperity. Others want one who endorses their political program. Still others want a king who comforts but never commands, forgives but never rules, saves but never sanctifies. But Jesus does not come to fit comfortably within our lives. He comes to reign over us, calling us to deny ourselves, take up our cross, and follow him.

And because our King is humble, those who belong to him must learn humility. Which is why the apostle directs us, “Have this mind among yourselves” (Phil. 2:5). In the home, the church, our work, and our treatment of the weak, the humility of our King is to take visible form in his people. Christian humility is using whatever God has given us for the good of others and the glory of Christ: strength placed in service and faithful obedience that does not need to be noticed.

Yet Christ’s humility is more than an example to imitate; it is the path by which he accomplishes our salvation.

The King Who Comes to Make Peace

As Jesus draws near, already on the way down the Mount of Olives, “the whole multitude of his disciples began to rejoice and praise God with a loud voice for all the mighty works that they had seen” (19:37). These disciples have seen the sick healed, demons cast out, the hungry fed, blind eyes opened, and even the dead raised. Now their accumulated wonder breaks into praise as they cry out with words drawn from Psalm 118: “Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord!” (19:38a). It was a psalm traditionally sung during major Jewish festivals, but here the disciples apply it to Jesus, identifying him as the King who comes with divine authority. They do not yet understand the kind of kingship they are acclaiming, but what they say is true.

But to this quotation they add words not found in Psalm 118: “Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!” (19:38b). The words sound strikingly similar to the angelic song in Luke 2:14: “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace.” The same two themes appear, peace and glory, but the order is reversed. At Jesus’ birth, heaven announces peace on earth. As Jesus approaches Jerusalem and the cross, earth answers, as it were, with the announcement of peace in heaven. This is not to say that the disciples understood all this, but we hear the echo.

Peace in heaven does not suggest disorder in heaven but reconciliation with the God of heaven. Sin has placed us at enmity with God, guilty before his law and subject to his judgment. Therefore, our deepest need is not merely peace within ourselves or peace with one another, but peace with God. And this is why the King is going to Jerusalem. Zechariah had spoken of prisoners being set free “because of the blood of my covenant.” The King will establish peace through covenant blood, not the blood of his enemies but his own.

Within days, Jesus will be mocked as a king, crowned with thorns, clothed in purple, and nailed beneath the charge, “The King of the Jews.” But what appears to be defeat will be his saving victory. At the cross, he will bear the curse of the law, satisfy divine justice, and make peace by the blood of his cross. What we call Jesus’ triumphal entry is indeed triumphant, not because the crowd is large or the praise loud, but because Jesus is going willingly to the place where he will accomplish our salvation. And the King who makes peace for his people must receive the praise of his people.

The King Who Must Be Praised

Not everyone joins the praise. “Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to him, ‘Teacher, rebuke your disciples’” (19:39).The disciples acclaim him as King; the Pharisees address him merely as “Teacher.” They may allow him a place among religious voices, but they will not bow before his authority. They understand the claim: the disciples are blessing Jesus as the promised King, and the Pharisees demand that he silence them.

Jesus answers, “I tell you, if these were silent, the very stones would cry out” (19:40). He does not correct the disciples or decline the title of King. He receives their praise because it belongs to him. This praise is not optional because Christ’s kingship is not a matter of opinion. Jesus is King whether the Pharisees acknowledge him or not. Human opposition cannot dethrone him. Nations may rage, rulers may plot, churches may grow timid, and disciples may falter, but the kingdom of Christ will not be left without witnesses.

There is both encouragement and warning here. The encouragement is that the cause of Christ does not depend finally upon us. We are called to bear witness faithfully, but the success of his kingdom rests upon God’s power and promise. He can raise witnesses from unlikely places and turn stony hearts into worshiping hearts. The warning is that silence is not neutrality. We share the Pharisees’ resistance whenever we prefer a manageable Jesus, one who instructs but does not rule, one whom we can admire without obeying. The Christian life begins with the confession, “Jesus is Lord,” and that confession continues in worship.

Our worship does not create Christ’s glory; it responds to the glory he already possesses. This is why Christian worship matters. Week by week, the King gathers his people by his Word and Spirit. We hear his voice, confess his name, sing his praise, and bow beneath his authority. Ordinary Lord’s Day worship declares that Jesus Christ reigns.

Our praise need not be manufactured or theatrical, but neither should it be cold or mindlessly habitual. The disciples rejoiced because they remembered the mighty works they had seen. Our praise grows weak when we forget the mighty work Christ accomplished for us. Remember the cross and the empty tomb: the grace that sought you, the blood that cleansed you, and the Spirit who gave you life. And then bless the King.

The King whom we praise is also the King who rules and defends his people. The Westminster Shorter Catechism says that Christ executes the office of a king “in subduing us to himself, in ruling and defending us, and in restraining and conquering all his and our enemies.”[3] This is not only the King we praise; this is the King we need. He came in humility, went to the cross in obedience, rose in victory, and has been exalted to the Father’s right hand. He will come again in glory, and on that day every knee will bow. The question is not whether Jesus will be acknowledged as King, but whether we bow willingly now, receiving his mercy, or unwillingly then, facing his judgment.

So, hear the summons of the Word of God: Behold, your King comes. He comes as the One promised in the Scriptures. He comes in the humility of a servant. He comes to make peace through the blood of his cross. And he comes as the King whose praise cannot be silenced. Receive him. Trust him. Submit to him. Praise him. “Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!” Amen.


[1] Unless referenced otherwise, all Scripture quotations are from The Holy Bible, English Standard Version 

(Wheaton: Crossway Bibles, 2001).

[2] J.C. Ryle, Expository Thoughts on Luke, Vol. 2 (Edinburgh: The Banner of Truth Trust, 2012), 229.

[3] The Westminster Shorter Catechism Q. 26, https://opc.org/sc.html