355: Your King Comes to You | Tim Henderson

Alright. Hey, some of you may have already heard, and I've heard from a number of you very kindly. My son Max was in a pretty serious motorcycle accident on Friday. There's no head injury or spinal injury, those things aren't a concern, but his left leg was pretty severely injured in his hip, and the morning has not been going very well since I got here, so I'm gonna be leaving as soon as the sermon is over. Pray for Max, and I'm gonna just summon all my compartmentalization skills, and we're gonna preach on Zechariah.

Series Overview

So, if you haven't been here lately, you are stepping into a series that we're doing, six weeks on Zechariah, which I'm super excited about. We've spent a couple of weeks looking at it already. Zechariah is what is known as a post-exilic prophet. What that means is that he wrote very late in Israel's history after they had been exiled. They had been disobedient, they had been rebellious for centuries, and God sent prophet after prophet to warn them off this path, but they really didn't heed. And finally, under Nebuchadnezzar, the king of Babylon, he brings in this very severe judgment. And they are penalized, and the remnant that survives is set aside in exile for seventy years.

When the remnant comes back and the judgment is over, they were dazed and defeated and demoralized, and they wanted to know if they were also discarded. Is it over for us or will the Messiah still come? Through a series of images that are rather bizarre to us, honestly, Zechariah seeks to answer that question. And his answer is no. It is not over. The Messiah is still coming, and it's not too late for you to end your rebellion and to come under his gracious reign.

Zechariah talks so much about the Messiah that the New Testament quotes this book over 70 times, which is extraordinary given what a short little book it is. There's just so much focus here, so much is drawn, and what's crazy is we know the book, it's very unfamiliar to us. The New Testament loved it, and it's filled with treasure, and so it's important—we wanna light it up for you so that you may discover its treasures yourself.

This morning's passage contains what I would guess is probably the most well-known part of Zechariah. It's the image of a king on a donkey. We look at it pretty much every year. Matthew quotes it, Mark quotes it, we look at it on Palm Sunday. It's Jesus' triumphal entry as he comes into Jerusalem, and we'll teach it again in about eight weeks when Palm Sunday comes, but when we do this time, I think you'll have a little bit of a better background to know what it's really all about.

So, we're gonna jump in at chapter nine, verse nine. Oh, and by the way, on the way out, you can grab these books if you didn't get one already. I made these books of Zechariah that had the text and all the New Testament allusions to it, might be helpful to you as you're following along with us.

Rejoice greatly, daughter Zion, shout, daughter Jerusalem. See, your king comes to you righteous and victorious, lowly, and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey. — Zechariah 9:9

This may look kinda benign, but it's really extraordinary, and it cuts to the absolute heart of Zechariah's book and his message. He is describing the coming of a king, and when he does so, he says he will be king on a donkey. To understand what that means, we're gonna need to first go on another detour with a couple of crucial stops. We're gonna go all the way back again, like we did when we started this thing, back to Genesis.

Adam: King and Priest

So, when Adam himself was placed in the garden, he was in the garden both king and priest. Now, it would take more time than we really have to fully unpack that, but when I say that he was king, that might be obvious to you because to Adam was given creation. He was told to rule over creation, subdue it, rule over every living creature. He was king in that garden. But he was also priest. And that's a little bit harder to see. And again, I could persuade you of it if I had the time, but the garden was the place where God walked with man. It's where he met him. It was the place where the first sacrifice was offered. And in fact, all of the subsequent temples were modeled after the garden. That's why there's pomegranates and palm trees. That's why their gate opens to the east. What they're showing us is that all the temples were pointing back to the first temple, which was the garden. And the one who reigns in the temple is the priest. Adam was king and priest.

Problem was, he wasn't very good at it. And very quickly, his throne got usurped by a serpent, and the priest came to need a priest, someone that would stand in between he and God himself. And so, in the providence of God, this king-priest—the jobs were split up.

God determined he would create a nation from one man, Abraham, from Abraham, Isaac, from Isaac, Jacob, and from Jacob's 12 sons, there would be a sort of a separation of powers where God decided that the kings of the land would come from the descendants of who? Judah. And the priests of the land would come from the descendants of? Levi.

Because nobody could—we've noticed throughout history, we're not very good kings, we're not very good priests, and there ain't anybody very good at being both. So he splits it up. But it was a temporary split. The plan, the purpose all along was to reunify the kings and the priests. One day, this temporary division would come to an end, and the Messiah would come, and he would be both king and priest. He would do well at everything that we can't even do well at half of. And that in fact was the subject of last week's passage, in Zechariah six, that one man would be both king and priest and would finally do what Adam couldn't.

The Promise to Judah

Today, what we're gonna do is look at the king side of that story. And in order to do that, we need to look at that promise that was made. When you guys all said the kings come from Judah, you're exactly right. And the event, the moment where that's made clear is in Genesis chapter 49.

This is Genesis 49. Abraham is speaking to all of his sons, all 12 kids, and he's speaking over their life—this is what will be true of your life, this will be true in your life. And in verse eight:

Judah, your brothers will praise you and your hand will be on the neck of your enemies. Your father's sons will bow down to you. You are a lion's cub, Judah. You return from the prey, my son. Like a lion, he crouches and lies down. Like a lioness who dares to rouse him? — Genesis 49:8-9

This is king language. This is why Jesus is called the lion of Judah. And in verse 10, you get to the heart of the promise:

The scepter will not depart from Judah, nor the ruler's staff from between his feet until he, to whom it belongs, shall come, and the obedience of the nations shall be his. He will tether his donkey to a vine, his colt to the choicest branch. — Genesis 49:10

Right there, in the middle of Genesis 49:10, is the heart of the promise. The scepter would not depart from Judah. Meaning, from Judah would come the kings. The scepter is the symbol of kingship. But you get an idea that all of the kings of Judah, every one of them is just a little king, and they rule merely over Israel alone while they're waiting for the true king, the great king, to come, and he will rule over everything.

The scepter will not depart from Judah, nor the ruler's staff from between his feet, until he to whom it belongs shall come, and the obedience of the nations shall be his. They were to hold the scepter until the real king came, and the obedience of the nations would be his.

You may notice too, that he will tether his donkey to a vine, his colt to the choicest branch. More on that in a minute. But the people in Zechariah's day, they knew this was a big one, guys, they knew this promise. And when they heard Zechariah 9, they absolutely would have known that this is an homage back to Genesis 49, that Genesis 49:10 and 11 are still going to be fulfilled, the king with the donkey is still going to come, and this would have been an enormous relief to them.

When the Kings Were Benched

I'm not sure if it's obvious to you why this would have caused them to rejoice so much, but the thing is, all of the little kings here, they had been benched. No more little kings. I don't know if you ever noticed that, but Genesis 49 has this image of this unbroken chain of kings leading up to the king. But just think about it, when Jesus came, when the Messiah finally arrived, who was the king of Israel? There was no king of Israel. The kings had been for like centuries—there had been no king over Israel. The image here is that these little kings would keep the throne warm for him. But that's not what happened, that is not the way history played out.

Here's the thing. The promise of Genesis 49 really has two parts. One, there will always be little Judean kings over Israel. The scepter will not depart from them. And part two, the real king would come, the Messiah would come, the great king would come. They would hold it till he shows up.

But part one was set aside, and we crossed them all out. There would be no more kings of Judah. They got to the point where they were done and they knew it. And they feared that maybe part two is over as well. Maybe the whole thing is just blown.

But if they paid close attention, they would have known that when God explicitly shut down the first part, he explicitly affirmed, reaffirmed the second part. It all happens in Ezekiel 21.

It's going to feel obscure to you, I'm sure, but they would have known it. In Ezekiel 21:28, listen to this, and with Genesis 49 in your ears, listen to what is said. Listen to Ezekiel's message to these rebellious people.

O profane and wicked prince of Israel, whose day has come, whose time of punishment has reached its climax. This is what the sovereign Lord says, take off the turban, remove the crown. It will not be as it was. The lowly will be exalted, and the exalted will be brought low. A ruin, a ruin, I will make it a ruin. It will not be restored until he comes to whom it rightfully belongs. To him, I will give it. — Ezekiel 21:25-27

Do you hear the echo of Genesis 49 in this? No more turban, no more crown. Those are the symbols of kingship. Those are the scepter. It's gone. It's over. It's done. You are benched, and there will be no more kings. You profane and wicked princes, sit down. But do you also hear the reaffirmation of the second part?

A ruin, a ruin, I will make it a ruin. It will not be restored until he comes to whom it rightfully belongs. To him, I will give it. — Ezekiel 21:27

Judah lost the right to pass the throne to the Messiah, but the Messiah is still coming. The king with a donkey of Genesis 49 is still coming. There will be centuries of empty throne before he arrives, but he's coming.

Now, back to Zechariah 9. Zechariah 9:9 says:

Rejoice greatly, daughter Zion. Shout, daughter Jerusalem. See, your king comes to you. — Zechariah 9:9

This is the question of Zechariah: Is the king still coming? The answer is yes, he is. He is coming and it's not over, so rejoice. But there might linger in their minds one question: Well, that's good, but what's he going to be like? Do we still get a king on a donkey, or have we earned ourselves a harsh king? What's going to happen?

The Coming King

This is the next thing that Zechariah answers. Now, to help you understand it, to help you see it, I want to take you to what is my favorite Clint Eastwood movie. It's called Gran Torino. Have any of you guys seen it? It's a great film, but it's scarcely possible to show a clip from it in this sanctuary.

In it, Eastwood plays a man named Mister Kowalski. He's a grouchy, old, racist white guy. He fought in Korea. He married a woman. He raised his family in this neighborhood. But his wife has died, and all the white people moved out, and all these immigrants moved in. He's just mad at everyone and everything. But as the story unfolds, he befriends this one particular family of immigrants, including their teenage son and their teenage daughter, Tau and Sue. And while he honestly never really stops being grouchy or racist, he loves them.

The climax of the movie comes after Sue is brutally assaulted by a gang. Everyone in this neighborhood is just living in fear because this gang is so evil. I want to show you the scene, but I can't, so I'm going to describe it to you. But as I do, I want you to keep Zechariah 9 in mind.

In fact, let's look at it first. In Zechariah 9, notice this complex picture of what this coming king will be like:

See, your king comes to you righteous and victorious, lowly, and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey. — Zechariah 9:9

He is, on the one hand, righteous and victorious, and he is lowly on a donkey. And those are different things. Zechariah 9, as he depicts this king, shows that he's taking away the chariots and the war horses and the battle bows. He will bring global peace. He will free prisoners. Those tend to be things that are accomplished by might. You just roll in, you fix it. And so it's a little strange that this king is described as lowly. Perhaps even stranger maybe, that his work is described as being fueled by, and I quote:

The blood of my covenant with you. As for you, because of the blood of my covenant with you, I will free your prisoners from the waterless pit. — Zechariah 9:11

So back to Gran Torino. In this neighborhood, there is no peace, there is no well-being because they're all being terrorized by this gang, particularly the family, but really everyone. And Mister Kowalski has come to love Sue and Tau, and so he's got to fix it. It's a Clint Eastwood movie, and so in a typical Eastwood flick, he would just roll into town and kill everybody, and we would leave the theater rejoicing at his ferocity and his might. But not this time.

Here, Kowalski goes to the home where the gang members are living, and he stands in the street and he just rebukes them. They all come out on the porch and they're all fully armed—guns, automatic weapons—and they start cussing him out.

And he is just going after them. He rebukes them, calls them out, tells them exactly how evil they are. The neighbors are all watching. All the neighbors come out to see this scene. Mister Kowalski is highly confrontational. Then he pulls out an unlit cigarette and puts it in his mouth. He reaches into his breast pocket to get a cigarette lighter, knowing that they will misinterpret this as if he's reaching for his gun, and that they will gun him down—which they do. In about five seconds, he gets shot like 40 times and falls to the ground dead.

And in that very moment, he defeated them. They don't know it, but at the exact second that they struck his heel, he crushed their head. Because they shot and killed an unarmed man in front of the entire neighborhood. Those gang members all get arrested. They all get carted off to jail for committing murder. And he wins. He purchases peace for this neighborhood, but he wins by losing. He gave his life, he gave his blood, and a certain sort of covenant for the ones that he loved.

Now, Clint Eastwood not only starred in this movie, but he also directed it and produced it. And when I was watching this scene, I was wondering: Does he know what he's doing? Does he understand that the inspiration for this very scene is the self-sacrificial cross of Christ, who also won by losing? Who also defeated Satan, freeing his people by allowing himself to be killed?

I want to show you thirty seconds of this film. But before we do, I need it as pitch dark as we can make it in here. Watch the scene.

Do you think he knew? I think he knew. Lying on his back with his arms outstretched, blood pouring from his wrists. Not only did Clint Eastwood know exactly what he was doing, but he wanted you to know.

Stories like this captivate us because built into our hearts is the reality that the stories we love are the stories that echo the gospel. Every good story, in some way, has to borrow its themes from the crucified one. Because Jesus himself quotes this moment in Zechariah when he served the disciples the last supper, but he changed it ever so slightly.

In Zechariah, God spoke of:

"the blood of my covenant"

which is an allusion back to Exodus 24. But when Jesus quotes it, he brings it forward and nails it unmistakably to his cross, and he says:

"This is my blood of the covenant, which was poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins."

You guys, Jesus is the righteous and victorious king. The one to whom the throne rightfully belongs has come, and it's his. God has given it to him. The cosmos is his terrain, and he earned it. He earned it through lowliness. His weakness was his strength. His folly was his wisdom. He went to the lowest place and was therefore exalted to the highest place. He is the fulfillment of Genesis 49. He is the fulfillment of Ezekiel 21. He is the righteous, victorious, lowly king on a donkey of Zechariah 9. He is the king, and he leads a kingdom ruled by mercy and kindness, by love and by sacrifice.

The Invitation

And the question is: Is he your king? He invites you to come out of the domain of darkness and into his kingdom of light. And you can come right now. It can all be yours. In fact, what we do every week, we have a moment designed for you to come down these curved rails where you can meet alone with him and just speak to him. Maybe it's clear for the first time ever. If you want to go to the straight rails and pray with somebody that would love to talk to you—whatever's going on in your life—those are open for you. He invites you to come, to come out of the domain of darkness into the kingdom of light.

But I will warn you: everything is upside down here. In Jesus' kingdom, the first are last, and the last are first. We win by losing. We gain by giving up everything—our time, our talent, our treasures. They're spent for the good of others. We admit it when we're wrong. We apologize. We make restitution. We consider others' needs as more important than our own. I mean, it's a strange kingdom. But oh, what a king.

He is rich in mercy. He is great in power, and in him is met the admirable conjunction of diverse excellencies. What that means is that he is highly exalted, and yet he communes with the lowly. He is a ferocious lion, and he's a gentle lamb. He is infinitely worthy to receive good and infinitely patient in suffering evil.

We invite you to bend the knee before his supremacy. Come into his kingdom. Father, we love you. We exalt you. And I pray that we would come into this kingdom.

We thank you for sending us such a good king, a good king and a good priest. I pray that we would live in your grace. Amen.

Alright, I'm leaving. Pray for Max. Thank you, friends.