The King's Public Claim and Private Resolve Text: Luke 21:37-38
Introduction: The Rhythm of Redemption
We have come to the end of the Olivet Discourse in Luke's gospel. The Lord Jesus has just finished laying out the coming judgment on Jerusalem in stark, apocalyptic terms. He has warned His disciples to be watchful, to be sober, and to pray that they might escape the tribulation that will swallow up the old covenant order. And right on the heels of these thunderous prophecies, Luke gives us what seems to be a quiet, almost mundane, summary of Jesus's routine in those final days. But there is nothing mundane about it. These two verses are not a simple travel itinerary. They are a description of the battle rhythm of the King of kings as He prepares for the final assault on the gates of hell.
We live in a time that loves to separate the sacred from the secular. We have our "spiritual" life, which we attend to on Sunday mornings, and then we have our "real" life, which is lived out in the marketplace, the office, and the home. But the Lord Jesus Christ knows nothing of such a division. His entire life was a seamless whole, an integrated assault on the darkness. This passage shows us the perfect integration of public proclamation and private communion, of confrontational teaching and strategic withdrawal. This is the rhythm of the new creation invading the old. It is the pattern of a life lived entirely before the face of God, and it is the pattern we are called to imitate.
In these final days before the cross, Jesus establishes a daily pattern. By day, He is in the temple, the very headquarters of the corrupt religious establishment, teaching with an authority that infuriates His enemies. By night, He retreats to the Mount of Olives, a place of prayer, rest, and communion with His Father. And the people, starved for true spiritual nourishment, are drawn to Him like moths to a flame. This is not just a schedule; it is a strategy. It is a public declaration of His authority and a private demonstration of His dependence. It shows us how the kingdom comes, not with the pomp of worldly power, but with the steady, faithful, day-in-and-day-out advance of the Word of God.
The Text
Now during the day He was teaching in the temple, but during the night He would go out and spend it on the mount called “of Olives.” And all the people would get up early in the morning to come to Him in the temple to listen to Him.
(Luke 21:37-38 LSB)
The King in the Enemy's Headquarters (v. 37a)
We begin with the first part of verse 37:
"Now during the day He was teaching in the temple..." (Luke 21:37a)
We must not read this casually. The temple was the symbolic center of the Jewish world. It was God's house. But by this point in history, it had become, in the Lord's own words, a "den of robbers." It was the seat of the apostate leadership of Israel, the very men who were plotting His murder. And this is precisely where Jesus sets up His daily teaching post. This is an act of breathtaking audacity. He is not hiding in some Galilean backwater. He is marching into the enemy's command center and declaring the truth of His kingdom, right under their noses.
This is a picture of the absolute authority of Jesus Christ. He is the true Temple. He is the true High Priest. He is the true sacrifice. And by teaching in the temple courts, He is effectively serving an eviction notice on the corrupt tenants. He is reclaiming His Father's house. His teaching was not abstract theology; it was a declaration of war. Every parable, every answer to the Pharisees' trick questions, was a cannon shot against the walls of their brittle, man-made religion. He was dismantling their worldview, brick by brick, with the Word of God.
This is what faithful ministry looks like. It does not cower in the corner. It does not seek to be inoffensive to the powers that be. It goes right to the center of the culture, to the modern-day temples of secularism, and it speaks the truth in love, but without compromise. The church is not a private club for the pious; it is an embassy of the kingdom of God, and its task is to proclaim the crown rights of King Jesus over every square inch of creation, starting with the places that think He has no business being there.
The Resolve of the Mount of Olives (v. 37b)
But the public assault is fueled by private communion.
"...but during the night He would go out and spend it on the mount called 'of Olives.'" (Luke 21:37b LSB)
After a day of intense spiritual warfare in the city, Jesus withdraws. The Mount of Olives was just across the Kidron Valley from the temple mount. It was a place of significance. It was from here that the glory of the Lord departed from the temple in Ezekiel's vision (Ezekiel 11:23), and it is to this mount that Jesus will return in glory (Zechariah 14:4). But for now, it is a place of retreat and prayer. It is where He recharges, where He communes with His Father, away from the crowds and the conflict.
This rhythm of engagement and withdrawal is essential. We cannot maintain a public witness for Christ if we do not maintain private communion with Christ. The man who would speak for God must first listen to God. The temptation for us, especially in an age of constant noise and distraction, is to be always "on," always broadcasting, always engaged in the online fray. But Jesus shows us a different way. The power for the daily battle in the temple was drawn from the nightly quiet on the mountain.
This also demonstrates His utter dependence on the Father. Though He was the eternal Son of God, in His humanity He lived a life of perfect reliance. He did not fight this war in His own strength. He prayed. He submitted. He listened. This is a profound rebuke to our self-sufficient, activistic, and often prayerless Christianity. If the Son of God needed these nights of prayer to face the cross, how much more do we need to be on our knees to face our comparatively trivial daily trials?
The Hunger for Reality (v. 38)
The result of this faithful rhythm is a powerful attraction.
"And all the people would get up early in the morning to come to Him in the temple to listen to Him." (Luke 21:38 LSB)
While the religious leaders were plotting murder, the common people were flocking to Jesus. They were getting up early, making a deliberate effort, to hear Him. The Greek here implies a habitual action; this was their daily routine as well. Why? Because they were spiritually starving. The scribes and Pharisees had given them stones instead of bread. They had burdened them with man-made traditions and offered them no grace, no life, no hope. And then came Jesus. He taught with authority, not as their scribes. He spoke with clarity, with power, and with grace. He was the real thing, and the people knew it.
This is a permanent principle. When the Word of God is preached faithfully and with power, it creates a spiritual hunger. People are desperate for reality. They are tired of the plastic, the superficial, the therapeutic nonsense that so often passes for Christianity. They want to hear "thus saith the Lord." When a man stands in the pulpit and unapologetically preaches the Bible, when he explains what it says and applies it to every area of life, the sheep will hear their Shepherd's voice. The crowds that gathered to Jesus are a testimony to the fact that the ordinary means of grace, the simple, faithful preaching of the Word, is the power of God unto salvation.
Notice their posture: they came "to listen to Him." Not to be entertained. Not to have their ears tickled. Not to get their weekly dose of inspiration. They came to listen. This is the fundamental posture of a disciple. Faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the Word of Christ. Our culture has forgotten how to listen. We are a culture of talkers, of arguers, of opinion-havers. But the beginning of wisdom is to shut our mouths and open our ears to the Word of the living God.
Conclusion: Our Daily Rhythm
So what is the takeaway for us? This passage sets before us the pattern for a fruitful Christian life. It is a life of courageous public witness and disciplined private devotion. We are called to be in the world, to engage the culture, to speak the truth in our modern-day temples, whether that is the university, the statehouse, or the office breakroom. We are to be bold, clear, and unashamed of the gospel.
But that public boldness must be sustained by a private walk with God. We must have our own Mount of Olives, a place and a time where we get alone with God in His Word and in prayer. Without this, our public witness will become hollow, brittle, and powered by the flesh. We will burn out, or we will compromise. The battle in the temple is won on the Mount of Olives.
And as we live out this rhythm, we should expect God to work. We should expect hungry souls to be drawn to the truth. The world is starving for something real. Let us, therefore, be a people who are so saturated with the Word of God in private that we cannot help but speak it with authority in public. Let us follow the pattern of our King, who, on the very eve of His crucifixion, maintained this divine rhythm of teaching and praying, of engagement and communion, all for the glory of His Father and the redemption of His people.