Commentary - Matthew 23:37-39

Bird's-eye view

Here at the climax of His excoriation of the scribes and Pharisees, the Lord Jesus pivots from righteous denunciation to a lament that is thick with sorrow and judgment. This is not the anger of a frustrated deity, but the grief of a rejected husband and king. The passage reveals the deep pathos of God's covenant love for a rebellious people. Christ, the ultimate prophet, mourns over the city that has made a name for itself by killing the very men God sent to save it. He expresses His long-standing desire to protect and cherish them, using the tender image of a hen with her chicks. But this tender offer was met with a stiff-necked refusal. The consequence is laid bare: abandonment and desolation. Their house, the Temple that was the heart of their identity, is to be left to them, empty of God's presence. Yet, the judgment is not final. A door is left open, a promise of a future day when they will finally welcome their Messiah with the words of Psalm 118, "Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!"

This passage is a dense summary of covenant history. It contains the love of God, the rebellion of man, the certainty of judgment, and the promise of future restoration. It is a microcosm of the gospel itself. The Lord's authority is on full display, both in His pronouncement of judgment and in His sovereign declaration of the terms of any future reconciliation. He is the one who leaves, and He is the one who will be seen again, but only on His terms, which are the terms of worship and surrender.

Outline

Context In Matthew

These verses serve as the conclusion and emotional crescendo to the seven woes Jesus has just pronounced upon the scribes and Pharisees in Matthew 23. After a chapter filled with blistering rebukes against the hypocrisy of Israel's leadership, the tone shifts to one of profound grief. This is not a contradiction, but rather two sides of the same coin. The severity of the woes is born from the same divine love that now weeps over Jerusalem's impenitence. This lament acts as a bridge between the Lord's public ministry to Israel, which is now closing, and the Olivet Discourse in chapter 24, where He will prophesy in detail the destruction of the city and its temple. The judgment announced here ("your house is being left to you desolate") is the very subject He will elaborate on for His disciples in the next chapter. Thus, this passage is a pivotal moment, marking the formal rejection of that generation of Jewish leadership and setting the stage for the cataclysm of A.D. 70.

Clause-by-Clause Commentary

v. 37 “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, who kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to her! How often I wanted to gather your children together, the way a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you did not want it.

The repetition of the name, "Jerusalem, Jerusalem," is a classic form of lament. It is a cry from the heart, full of sorrow and affection. Jesus speaks not just to a geographical location, but to the covenant people represented by their capital city. He immediately identifies their central sin, their historical pattern of rebellion. They are the ones who kill the prophets and stone God's messengers. This wasn't an occasional lapse; it was their character, their track record from the beginning. Stephen will make the same indictment just before he is stoned himself (Acts 7:52). This is the city of God, and it has become the city that murders God's men.

Against this backdrop of violent rejection, the Lord reveals His own heart. "How often I wanted to gather your children together..." The "I" here is divine. This is not just the desire of the man Jesus during His three-year ministry; this is the voice of Yahweh, the God of Israel, speaking through Him. Throughout the centuries, through every prophet sent, through every call to repentance, God's intention was to gather, to protect, to save. The metaphor He chooses is one of startling tenderness: "the way a hen gathers her chicks under her wings." This is an image of fierce, nurturing, self-sacrificing love. A hen will face down predators, endure storms, and give her own life to protect the helpless chicks huddled beneath her. This is what God offered Israel, and this is what Christ offered Israel. He offered them refuge from the coming storm of Roman judgment, safety from the talons of the devil, and warmth in the fellowship of His kingdom.

But the offer was met with refusal. The final clause is stark and lays the blame squarely where it belongs: "and you did not want it." The Greek is emphatic: ouk ethelesate. You were unwilling. This is not a failure of God's power, but a demonstration of Jerusalem's rebellion. God's sovereign will and man's responsible will meet here in a terrible collision. God's revealed will was their salvation and protection, but their settled will was for autonomy and rebellion. They would not have this man to reign over them, and so they would not have His protection either.

v. 38 Behold, your house is being left to you desolate!

"Behold" is a call to attention. Stop and look. See what your refusal has wrought. The consequence of "you did not want it" is "your house is left to you desolate." What house is this? It is, in the first place, the Temple, the house of God. But notice the subtle and devastating shift in pronouns. It is no longer "My house," as God would call it, but "your house." They wanted to possess it on their own terms, to run it their way, and God grants their wish with a vengeance. He removes His presence, His glory, His protection, and leaves it to them. An empty shell. A house without the father is not a home, but a hollow structure. The Temple without God is just a pile of impressive stones, soon to be thrown down.

The word "desolate" means abandoned, deserted, made a wilderness. This was fulfilled literally within a generation when the Romans leveled the city in A.D. 70. The glory had departed. Ichabod. The very center of their national and spiritual life was being handed over to destruction because they had rejected the cornerstone.

v. 39 For I say to you, from now on you will not see Me until you say, ‘BLESSED IS HE WHO COMES IN THE NAME OF THE LORD!’ ”

Here is the prophetic ultimatum. Jesus is withdrawing His presence from them. "From now on you will not see Me..." His public ministry to the nation of Israel as a whole is over. He will go to the cross, be raised from the dead, and ascend to His Father. The age of His physical, earthly presence among them is closing.

But this withdrawal is not presented as an absolute end. There is a condition for His return, a future moment when they will see Him again. This will happen "until you say..." The nation that rejected Him must have a change of heart and mouth. They must come to the point of confessing what the crowds shouted at the Triumphal Entry, but this time in genuine faith and repentance. They must welcome Him as their true King.

The required phrase is a quotation from Psalm 118:26, a messianic psalm. "BLESSED IS HE WHO COMES IN THE NAME OF THE LORD!" This is not just a polite greeting. It is a full-throated confession of His identity and authority. It is an acknowledgment that He is the one sent by Yahweh, the true representative of God, the promised Messiah. When the Jewish people as a people are brought to this place of national repentance, they will see their Messiah again. This is a promise that looks forward to a great turning in the future, a fulfillment of what Paul discusses in Romans 11. The judgment is severe, but the door is not locked forever. The key to opening it is found in this blessed confession.

Application

This passage confronts us with the profound tenderness and terrible severity of God. We must not pit these against each other. His love is a fierce, protecting, hen-like love, but it is not a sentimental love that will indulge our rebellion forever. To reject such a loving offer of protection is the height of folly and wickedness, and it has consequences.

We see here that God's house can become "your house." Whenever a church, a family, or an individual begins to treat the things of God as their own possession, to be managed for their own glory, they are on the path to desolation. The moment we say "my church" or "my ministry" with a spirit of ownership rather than stewardship, the glory is in danger of departing. We must constantly ask if we are seeking shelter under His wings, or if we are trying to build our own pathetic lean-to in the yard.

Finally, there is a great hope here. The condition for seeing the Lord is to bless Him who comes in the name of the Lord. This is the heart of worship. This is the cry of every sinner who has been given new life. Our salvation, our fellowship with God, our hope of seeing Him face to face, all depend on this one thing: that we joyfully confess that Jesus is the blessed one, the one sent from God to save us. We must say it now, and we will say it forever. Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!