A sermon preached at Covenant Presbyterian Church of Fort Smith, Arkansas on August 23, 2026.
And when he drew near and saw the city, he wept over it, saying, “Would that you, even you, had known on this day the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes. For the days will come upon you, when your enemies will set up a barricade around you and surround you and hem you in on every side and tear you down to the ground, you and your children within you. And they will not leave one stone upon another in you, because you did not know the time of your visitation.” And he entered the temple and began to drive out those who sold, saying to them, “It is written, ‘My house shall be a house of prayer,’ but you have made it a den of robbers.” And he was teaching daily in the temple. The chief priests and the scribes and the principal men of the people were seeking to destroy him, but they did not find anything they could do, for all the people were hanging on his words (Luke 19:41–48).[1]
In the previous passage, we followed Jesus as he rode toward Jerusalem in fulfillment of Zechariah’s prophecy. The promised King came as God had said he would: humble and mounted on a donkey. And as he drew closer to Jerusalem, the multitude rejoiced and praised God with a loud voice, saying, “Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!” (19:38). It was high praise, indeed, including a confession of Jesus’ identity as the heir to the Davidic throne and the messianic ruler of the kingdom. It was also praise heard and rightly interpreted by the Pharisees, who demanded that Jesus silence them. But he would not, replying instead, “I tell you, if these were silent, the very stones would cry out” (Luke 19:40). Make no mistake about it: Jesus will be praised whether we praise him or not!
We can imagine this scene of celebration and praise, but what we might not imagine is Jesus weeping. But he did. Why? Why amidst such celebration and acclamation, why as “he drew near and saw the city,” did he weep? The answer: Jerusalem. The crowd anticipates triumph there, but Jesus foresees judgment.
Now, to be clear, the arrival of the King is good news, but it is not good news because he comes to affirm Jerusalem. On the contrary, Jesus sees what others do not. And as we see in our passage today, he judges what others have tolerated and claims what rightfully belongs to him.
But the bigger question that I want us to ask of this passage is: What happens when the King draws near? I believe the answer is both comforting and sobering. Christ comes in mercy, but his mercy must not be despised. He offers peace, but his peace must be received. He commands our worship, but it is never on our terms. And he gives us his Word, not as a suggestion but as the rule of faith and life. When the King draws near, his gracious presence demands a response: his peace must be received, his holiness honored, and his Word obeyed.
But before we get to all of that, I want to return to the question of why Jesus wept.
The King Weeps over Rejected Peace (41-44)
Jesus knows what awaits him in Jerusalem and has repeatedly told his disciples what is to come. He will be delivered over to the Gentiles, mocked, shamefully treated, spit upon, flogged, and killed. Within days of his weeping, all of this will happen, and yet, Jesus does not weep for himself. He weeps for the capital city of Israel’s kingdom, the central place of Israel’s worship, the singular personification of the nation, in one word: Jerusalem.
In Jerusalem, Israel’s rulers will conspire against Jesus and demand his execution. Outside its walls, he will be crucified. Jesus knows all of this, the unbelief, pride, self-righteousness, and coming cruelty of Jerusalem, yet he looks upon the city with pity. Yet, there is no contradiction between the holiness of Christ and the compassion of Christ; there is no contradiction between divine judgment and divine sorrow over those who perish in unbelief.Jesus is not a reluctant Judge who wishes he did not have to uphold righteousness. Nor is he an indifferent Judge who takes pleasure in the destruction of the wicked. He is the holy Son of God but also the Son of Man who speaks judgment with tears in his eyes.
And so, Jesus weeps over Jerusalem: “Would that you, even you, had known on this day the things that make for peace!” (19:42). But what is Jesus lamenting? What had they not “known”? What are these “things that make for peace”? Despite its Scriptures, its temple, its prayers, and its messianic hopes, Jerusalem longed for a Messiah it did not recognize when he came Jerusalem wanted peace from Rome, peace from political oppression, and the restoration of Israel, but not the “things that make for peace” that Jesus means.Within days, through his betrayal, trial, suffering, and ultimately his crucifixion, Jesus will make peace, not by shedding the blood of his enemies but by shedding his own blood for sinners, like you and me.But as Jesus approaches Jerusalem, he knows they do not see these things, for these things were “hidden” from their eyes (19:42).
Though mysterious to us, there are things hidden and things revealed. For example, we cannot see our need for Jesus Christ as our Savior apart from the gracious work of the Holy Spirit.Our need is hidden from our eyes. But spiritual blindness does not make unbelief innocent.Similarly, Jerusalem was warned by the prophets of old and heard clearly the testimony of Christ, but they willfully rejected him. In God’s judgment, “the things that make for peace” with God were hidden from their eyes. And for this, Jesus weeps.
Let me say here, as a theological aside, that the doctrine of sovereign grace never turns human unbelief into innocence, nor should it lead us to indifference toward those who remain in unbelief.Paul’s anguish does not negate God’s sovereign election; it shows us what sovereign grace should produce in us. When Paul confesses in Romans, “I have great sorrow and unceasing anguish in my heart” for his fellow Israelites (Rom. 9:2), it is a cry from the heart. But such anguish did not harden his heart but deepened his compassion.The lesson for us, in summary, is: God saves sovereignly; sinners reject him culpably; and the people of God plead earnestly for sinners to be reconciled to Christ.
But there is more to Jesus’ weeping than Jerusalem’s unbelief. He also looks beyond the present to what will come upon Jerusalem, prophesying, “The days will come upon you, when your enemies will set up a barricade around you and surround you and hem you in on every side” (19:43). Of course, we know his prophecy will be fulfilled in AD 70, when the city will be surrounded by the Roman army, many of its inhabitants will be slaughtered, and its buildings will be leveled, including the temple. Historically, we know when this occurred, but I want to draw your attention to why. Jesus says, “because you did not know the time of your visitation” (19:44). The word translated ‘time’ here is the Greek word kairos, a word that means not chronological time but an appointed or decisive moment. At the exact, opportune moment in redemptive history, God sent his Son, and they did not know him. John says in his Gospel, “He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him” (John 1:11). And so, judgment came upon Jerusalem, because Jerusalem’s King came in mercy, but mercy despised deserves judgment.
Church, when we hear this, it should awaken us both to the covenant privileges we enjoy and to the warning that accompanies them. Jerusalem had the Scriptures, the temple, the worship of God, but possessing the privileges of grace is not the same thing as saving grace. We too can sit beneath the preaching of the Word, receive the sacraments, sing the hymns, confess the creeds, know our catechism, belong outwardly to the visible Church, and still resist the King who draws near through his means of grace. The ordinary means of grace are precious because through them Christ comes near to his people. So, let us not despise the day of visitation. When he exposes your sin, repent. When he offers himself in the gospel, receive him. When Christ speaks through his Word, hear him. For, Christ has made peace by the blood of his cross, and everyone who trusts in him has peace with God.
The King Demands Holy Worship (45-46)
When Jesus enters Jerusalem, he goes directly to the temple and, according to Matthew, begins driving out “all who sold and bought in the temple” including the “money-changers” and sellers of sacrificial pigeons (Matt. 21:12).Or as Luke puts it succinctly, “he entered the temple and began to drive out those who sold” (19:45).It was surely quite a spectacle, as the meek and mild Jesus forcefully removed the temple traders. Disgusted with what he saw, he cleaned house, quite literally.But why were they there in the first place? And why did Jesus see the need to evict them?
The temple trading arrangement was likely pragmatic: Pilgrims arriving at the temple needed to exchange their currency for the temple’s currency and buy animals for sacrifice. While there may have been other abuses that accompanied the practice, Luke’s emphasis is not upon reconstructing temple economics but upon Jesus’ verdict: what God intended as a house of prayer had been corrupted from its purpose.
In this act, John Calvin says, Jesus reveals himself as both King and High Priest. [2] As the King, he has the authority to do what he does for the sake of his kingdom; as the High Priest he does it with zeal for the right worship of God. As both King and High Priest, he declares, “It is written, ‘My house shall be a house of prayer,’ but you have made it a den of robbers” (19:46). It is a declaration of truth and judgment; it’s also a direct quotation from two Old Testament prophets.
The first phrase comes from the fifty-sixth chapter of the prophet Isaiah, where the Lord, using the word “prayer” as a synonym for “worship,” describes his house as a place dedicated to his worship, not only for Israel but “for all peoples” (Isa. 56:7). In God’s design, there is a place for commerce but that is not the purpose of the temple. It existed solely for the purpose of worship, a “house of prayer.” But it’s the second phrase that I want us to consider more closely, which comes from the seventh chapter of Jeremiah, where the prophet warns the people not to put their confidence in the temple itself. In Jeremiah’s day, the people had come to believe that because they worshiped at the temple, how they lived away from the temple didn’t matter. They could oppress the weak, shed innocent blood, pursue idols, disobey the Lord, and then enter the temple and presume upon the mercy of God. In response to this, the Lord says, “Has this house, which is called by my name, become a den of robbers in your eyes?” (Jer. 7:11). God’s metaphor, “den of robbers,” implies that the people perceived the temple as a kind of refuge from the consequences of their sinful lives. But the mere presence of a holy place does not protect an unholy people.
So, when Jesus says, “‘My house shall be a house of prayer,’ but you have made it a den of robbers,” he is not simply criticizing the presence of commerce in the temple or even a nefarious practice of trading. He is warning them, with the very words of their prophets, of their false confidence in outward religion.
Of course, this is an ongoing temptation in every generation, isn’t it? We can become so concerned with preserving and protecting our forms of worship that we forget their purpose. How we worship matters because God is the One being worshiped, but we must never mistake proper form for a heart made right with God. We can sing the Psalms and remain proud, recite a confession of sin and refuse to repent, listen to sound preaching and resist the Word preached, receive the Lord’s Supper while harboring bitterness. We can admire reverent worship while our hearts remain far from God, because it is possible to be very near the things of God and still far from God himself.
Of course, we do not assemble in Jerusalem’s temple today, nor offer sacrifices upon an altar, because Christ has offered the once-for-all sacrifice for sin. By his Spirit, we, as Christ’s church, are the temple of God. And the One who cleansed the temple in Jerusalem still cleanses his temple today! Through his Word and Spirit, he corrects what is false, exposes what is sinful, and continually calls his people to repentance and renewed obedience. The One who demands holy worship is the One who makes worship possible.
Within days of this account, Jesus will offer himself as the sacrifice. The great High Priest will become the spotless Lamb. The One who cleansed the temple will go outside the city and bear the uncleanness of his people. He will be forsaken so that sinners may draw near, therefore “let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith” (Heb. 10:22).
The King Rules by His Word (47-48)
After the cleansing of the temple, we might expect something more dramatic, but Luke tells us something beautifully ordinary: “And he was teaching daily in the temple” (19:47).He knows what awaits him, yet he is faithful in the ordinary. Of course, this shouldn’t surprise us, as we have seen this consistently throughout Luke’s Gospel. Jesus speaks, and demons obey; Jesus speaks, and storms are stilled; Jesus speaks, and sins are forgiven; Jesus speaks, and the dead rise. And here, in the final days before his crucifixion, Jesus speaks, teaching the people the Word of God.
Yet, though ordinary, the King’s Word is not powerless.Though Israel’s leaders wanted to destroy him there and then, they could not.Why? “because all the people were hanging on his words” (19:48).Here we see both the authority of Christ’s Word and the proper posture before it. When the Word of Christ comforts us, we believe it; when it corrects us, we receive it; when it commands us, we obey it; when it exposes our sin, we repent; when it promises forgiveness, we rest in it.When his Word tells us that Christ has died for us and risen from the dead, we believe it, treasure it, and live our lives upon it.
When the King drew near to Jerusalem, not everyone saw the same thing. The multitude saw a celebration, Jesus saw a people under judgment. The traders saw a place of commerce, but Jesus saw his Father’s house profaned. The religious leaders saw a dangerous teacher who needed to be silenced, but Jesus saw a people in need of the Word of God.
But here is what I want you to see: everything revealed about the King in this passage finds its fulfillment at the cross. Jesus weeps because Jerusalem does not know the things that make for peace, and at the cross he makes that peace. He cleanses the temple and demands holy worship, and at the cross he offers the sacrifice that cleanses worshipers and brings them near to God. He rules by his Word, and at the cross the Word he has spoken concerning his suffering and salvation is fulfilled.
Jerusalem’s tragedy was not that Christ never came near. He came very near. The tragedy was that he came near in mercy, and they did not receive him.
Let us not mistake nearness to the things of Christ for receiving Christ himself. The King draws near to us in the gospel, in the preaching of his Word, in the sacraments, in the gathered worship of his Church. These are great covenant privileges. But the question remains: What will you do when the King draws near?
Receive the peace he has made. Worship the God who has redeemed you. Hang upon the Word of the King. For the King who once drew near to Jerusalem in humility will draw near again in glory. Amen.
[1] Unless referenced otherwise, all Scripture quotations are from The Holy Bible, English Standard Version
(Wheaton: Crossway Bibles, 2001).
Planter, Pastor, Preacher 