They had said:
“Hosanna! Blessed is the King of Israel that cometh in the name of the Lord.”
In crying this aloud they were fulfilling the prediction of Zechariah.
He had, under the vision of God, looked forward to this hour and with the Spirit of God upon him had exhorted the people who should be alive when Jesus should come to acclaim him.
He said:
“Shout, O daughter of Jerusalem; behold thy King cometh unto thee; he is just, and having salvation (political as well as spiritual salvation); lowly, and riding upon an ass, and upon a colt the foal of an ass.”
The multitude were shouting as Zechariah said they should shout. They were confessing that He who came that day up the slopes of Zion was the Prince of Judah and King of Israel.
He came to His own, but His own received Him not.
Instead of the diadem of David He got a crown of thorns. Instead of the sceptre of Israel He got the vine stick of a Roman centurion thrust through His rope-tied hands. Instead of a throne He got a malefactor’s cross. Instead of a robe of royal purple He got the winding sheet of the dead. Instead of a palace He got a borrowed grave.
The Jews have paid the price of that blindness and betrayal. The man-slayer who unwittingly slew his neighbour or was even ignorant of it at the moment sooner or later found he had to flee from the avenger of blood instantly upon his track. He became an exile from his home, forced to dwell in a provided place called the city of refuge. He could not return to his home till the second coming of a priest.