Note that the place where the ass was found tied was a village, and a village without a name. For in comparison with the great world in heaven, the whole earth is a village.

It was foretold expressly that he would sit upon the foal of an ass and enter Jerusalem.^[1]

Say to the daughter of Zion, Behold, your king will come to you, gentle, and sitting upon a donkey, and its foal, the offspring of a beast of burden.^[1] The daughter of Zion is the church of the faithful, a figure of the heavenly Jerusalem, which is the mother of us all, of which there then existed a sizeable group among the people of Israel.^[2] They had a king who was gentle, for it was not God’s pleasure to give an earthly kingdom to the powerful, but a heavenly kingdom to the gentle.

Here he seems to me to be hinting at the circumstance of those who afterwards would come to believe, but who as yet had never sat under the authority of the Word prior to Jesus’ coming.

Untie the donkey and bring it to me.^[1] He began with a manger and finished with a donkey, in Bethlehem with a manger, in Jerusalem with a donkey.

Some interpret the tied-up ass as a reference to believers who come from the circumcision. They were being freed from many bonds by those who instructed them in the word.^[1]

The prophecy, binding his foal to the vine, and washing his robe in the blood of the grape,^[1] contained symbols of the things that were to happen to Christ, and of what he was to do. For the foal of an ass stood bound to a vine at the entrance of a village, and he ordered his disciples to bring it to him then. When it was brought, he mounted and sat upon it, and rode into Jerusalem, where the stately temple of the Jews was which you [Romans]^[2] have razed to the ground. After this he was crucified, in order that the rest of the prophecy be verified. For the words washing his robe in the blood of the grape, prefigured the passion he was to undergo, purifying with his blood those who believe in him.^[3]

His disciples did not understand this at first; but when Jesus was glorified, then they remembered that this had been written of him and had been done to him,^[1] that is, when he had manifested the power of his resurrection. . . . In short, mentally comparing with the contents of Scripture what was accomplished both prior to and in the course of our Lord’s passion, they found this also in Scripture, that it was in accordance with the utterance of the prophets that he sat on an ass’s colt.

The master of humility is Christ who humbled himself and became obedient even to death, even the death of the cross.^[1] Thus he does not lose his divinity when he teaches us humility. . . . What great thing was it to the king of the ages to become the king of humanity? For Christ was not the king of Israel so that he might exact a tax or equip an army with weaponry and visibly vanquish an enemy. He was the king of Israel in that he rules minds, in that he gives counsel for eternity, in that he leads into the kingdom of heaven for those who believe, hope, and love. It is a condescension, not an advancement for one who is the Son of God, equal to the Father, the Word through whom all things were made, to become king of Israel. It is an indication of pity, not an increase in power.

Instead of our garments, let us spread our hearts before him.^[1]

And others cut boughs . . . and strewed them in the way. They cut branches from the fruitbearing trees with which the Mount of Olives was planted, and spread them in the way; so as to make the crooked ways straight, and the rough ways smooth, that Christ the conqueror of sin might walk straightly and safely into the hearts of the faithful. . . . And when they had done all that was to be done by their hands, they offered also the tribute of their voices; and going before and following after they cry, not in a brief and wordless confession, but with all their might: Hosanna to the son of David. Blessed is he that comes in the name of the Lord.

The boys in the Gospel raised aloft their branches as the Savior entered Jerusalem. They kept on crying: Hosanna. . . . They borrowed these versicles from Psalm 117.^[1] Hosanna,moreover, is the Hebrew for O Lord, grant salvation!

Hosanna, however, is a word of supplicating, as some say who know the Hebrew language, more declaring a feeling than signifying something. Just as in the Latin language there are words which we call interjections, as when in sorrow we say, Heu! Or when we are de-lighted, we say, Vah! Or when we are amazed, we say, Oh, what a great thing! For then oh signifies nothing except the feeling of one who is amazed.

Mark, on his side, has recorded in connection with the second day what he had omitted to notice as occurring really on the first—namely, the incident of the expulsion of the sellers and buyers from the temple. On the other hand, Matthew, after mentioning what was done on the second day—namely, the cursing of the fig tree as he was returning in the morning from Bethany into the city—has omitted certain facts which Mark has inserted, namely, his coming into the city, and his going out of it in the evening, and the astonishment which the disciples expressed at finding the tree dried up as they passed by in the morning; and then to what had taken place on the second day, which was the day on which the tree was cursed, he has attached what really took place on the third day—namely, the amazement of the disciples at seeing the tree’s withered condition, and the declaration which they heard from the Lord on the question of the power of faith.^[1]

As we behold the mystery of his tears,^[1] hunger^[2] and thirst,^[3] let us remember that the one who wept also raised the dead to life, rejoicing for Lazarus. From the very One who thirsted flowed rivers of living water.^[4] He who hungered was able to wither the fig tree which offered no fruit for his hunger. How could this be, that he who was able to strike the green tree dead merely by his word could also have a nature that could hunger?^[5] This was the mystery of his hunger, grief, and thirst, that the Word was assuming flesh. His humanity was entirely exposed to our weaknesses, yet even then his glory was not wholly put away as he suffered these indignities. His weeping was not for himself, his thirst was not for water, nor his hunger merely for food. He did not eat or drink or weep just to satisfy his appetites. Rather, in his incarnate humbling he was demonstrating the reality of his own body by hungering, by doing what human nature does. And when he ate and drank, it was not a concession to some necessity external to himself, but to show his full participation in the human condition.

Did Christ really want physically to relish and consume fruit himself when he sought the fruit of this fig tree? And if he had found it there, would he then even have eaten it? Did he really want to drink water when he said to the woman of Samaria, Give me a drink?^[1] When he was on the cross saying I thirst,^[2] was this really all about his physical thirst? For what does Christ hunger more than our good works? For what does Christ thirst more than our faithful response?

The nature of the fig tree is such that when it is cut, because of its moisture, it [requires] many months for it to dry up. Our Lord chose it as a symbol, therefore, to make the quality of his power known through it. It is evident that the fig tree becomes moist and tender before the other trees. Hence our Lord said: From the fig tree learn this parable. As soon as its branch becomes tender and opens up in the outer covering of its buds, you know that summer is near.^[1] You see that he proposes it [as a symbol] because of its abundant moisture and its early buds.

The figs which the Lord had sought were the fruit of the synagogue, which had the leaves of the law, but not the fruit of works. For the creator of all things could not be ignorant that the fig tree had no fruit. That was something anyone might know, since it was not the time of figs.

Some who witnessed Christ’s miracles did not understand what they meant, and how they spoke to those who knew they had special meaning. They wondered only at the miracles themselves. Others both marvelled at the miracles, and attained some preliminary understanding of them. For this we must come to the school of Christ himself. Those fixed only upon the plain sense of Scripture tend to focus merely upon miracle for miracles’ sake. Hence they may prematurely conclude that Jesus himself was ignorant of the time of the year, something any ordinary farmer could discern. For it was not yet the season for the tree to bear fruit. Nevertheless, since he was hungry, he looked for fruit on the tree.^[1] Does this imply that Christ knew less than what every peasant could easily discern? Surely not. Wouldn’t you expect the maker of the fig tree to know what the ordinary orchard worker would know in a snap? So when he was hungry he looked for fruit on the tree, but he seemed to be looking for something more from this tree. He noted that the tree had no fruit, but was full of leaves. It was at that point that he cursed it, and it withered away. So what terrible thing had the poor tree done simply in not bearing fruit? Could the tree reasonably be faulted for its fruitlessness? No. But human beings who by their own free will decide not to bear fruit—that is a different matter. Those found wanting in accountability in this case are those who had the benefit of the law, which was meant to bear fruit, but they had no fruit to show for it. They had a full growth of leaves (the law), yet they bore no fruit (works of mercy).

The owner of the fig tree did not obey the law but spurned it. Our Lord came and found that there was [nothing] left on it, so he cursed it, lest its owner eat from it again, since he had left [nothing] for the orphan and widows. . . . He cursed the fig tree and it shriveled up to show them the power of his divinity, so that by means of [this] action near at hand which they could see, they might believe that which was to come. Because [Jerusalem] had not accepted the law, he cursed [the fig tree], so that there might no longer be fruit on it, according to its law. . . . He sought fruit from the fig tree at an inopportune time, that it might be a symbol of one who had deceitfully withheld the fruits of the law at the opportune time.^[1] For, if he had sought fruit from it at the opportune time, no one would have known that there was a figurative meaning embedded here. Instead of the fig tree, therefore, he showed that it was Jerusalem that he was reproaching, for he had sought love in her, but she had despised the fruit of repentance. . . . Why, therefore, did he who was good and gentle, who everywhere revealed great things out of little things, and completion out of imperfection, why did he command the fig tree to dry up? For he healed the sufferings of everyone, changed water to wine, made an abundance from a little bread, opened the eyes of the blind, cleansed lepers and raised the dead to life. But this fig tree alone did he cause to wither. It was because the time of his suffering was near, and, lest it be thought that he was captured because he was unable to free himself, he cursed the fig tree, that it might be a sign for his friends, and a miracle for his enemies. Thus, the disciples would be strengthened by his word, and others would be amazed at his power. Because he did all things well,^[2] and [the time] for him to suffer was near, it might be thought, as indeed it was, that he was captured because he possessed no power. He showed in advance, therefore, by means of a living plant which he caused to wither, that he would have been able to destroy his crucifiers with a word.

Remember at the time of the sin of Adam and Eve they clothed themselves—with what? Fig leaves.^[1] That was their first act after the fall. So now Jesus is making the same figure of the fig tree the very last of his wondrous signs. Just as he was headed toward the cross, he cursed the fig tree—not every fig tree, but that one alone for its symbolic significance—saying: May no one ever eat fruit of you again.^[2] In this way the curse laid upon Adam and Eve was being reversed. For they had clothed themselves with fig leaves.

This account of the many sellers who were cast out of the temple was reported by all the Evangelists, including John, but in his case he introduces it in a completely different order. . . . John proceeds to tell us that he went up to Jerusalem at the season of the Jews’ passover, and when he had made a scourge of small cords drove out of the temple those who were selling in it. This makes it evident that this act was performed by the Lord not on a single occasion, but twice over. Only in the first instance was it recorded by John, but in the last by the other three.^[1] HARMONY ^[1]

He scattered the fraudulent traders, and drove them all out, together with the things that had to do with the carrying on of trade. What, my beloved, do you suppose our Lord would do if he should discover people involved in disputes, wasting time gossiping, indulging in unseemly laughter, or engaged in any other sort of wicked actions?

Remember: when he saw traders in the temple buying the sacrificial offerings meant to be made to him, he was prompt in getting rid of them.^[1] . . . These things should cause us great perturbation, beloved; we should dread them exceedingly with well-deserved fear, and carefully avoid them with painstaking diligence, lest he come unexpectedly and find something evil in us, as a result of which we should rightly be scourged and cast out of the church.