MATTHEW 23:37-39
THE LAMENT OVER JERUSALEM
BRIEF INTERPRETATION
Text – Matthew 23:37–39
37 “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how many times I yearned to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her young under her wings, but you were unwilling!
38 Behold, your house will be abandoned, desolate.
39 I tell you, you will not see me again until you say, ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.’”
Historical and Jewish Context
Jerusalem, the heart of Jewish worship and national identity, was meant to be the dwelling place of God’s presence in the temple. Yet, throughout Israel’s history, the prophets sent by God were rejected, persecuted, and even killed by those called to uphold His covenant. Jesus’ lament expresses both divine sorrow and maternal tenderness, symbolized by the image of the hen protecting her brood. The prophecy “your house will be abandoned” foretells the destruction of the Temple in A.D. 70, marking the end of sacrificial worship and the shift toward a new covenant centered in Christ Himself.
Catholic Theological Perspective
In Catholic theology, this lament reveals the depth of Christ’s divine compassion and human sorrow. Jesus speaks as the Son of God longing for His people’s conversion, yet facing their rejection. His desire “to gather” expresses God’s salvific will for all humanity, echoing His mission as the Good Shepherd. The image of the desolate house symbolizes not only the physical temple’s fall but also the spiritual emptiness of those who refuse grace. The final verse anticipates His triumphant return—both in the Resurrection and at the Parousia—when all will acknowledge Him as the Messiah.
Parallels in Scripture
Psalm 91:4: “He will cover you with his pinions, and under his wings you shall take refuge.”
Luke 13:34–35: A parallel lament showing Jesus’ tender grief for Jerusalem.
John 1:11: “He came to what was his own, but his own people did not accept him.”
Zechariah 9:9: The prophecy fulfilled in Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem, where the people cried, “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.”
Revelation 21:3: God’s final dwelling among His people in the New Jerusalem.
Key Terms
Jerusalem: The sacred city symbolizing both God’s dwelling place and the collective heart of His people.
Abandoned/Desolate house: A prophetic image of the temple stripped of divine presence because of rejection of the Messiah.
Hen and her chicks: A symbol of divine protection, tenderness, and maternal care.
Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord: A messianic acclamation from Psalm 118:26, anticipating Christ’s second coming.
Catholic Liturgical Significance
This passage is proclaimed in the liturgy as a reflection on Christ’s sorrow over humanity’s resistance to grace. It reminds the faithful during Lent and Holy Week of the consequences of rejecting God’s mercy. It also points to the hope of Christ’s return in glory and the promise of restoration for those who accept His call.
Conclusion
Jesus’ lament over Jerusalem stands as a poignant reminder of God’s love rejected yet never withdrawn. His words blend sorrow with hope—judgment with mercy. The desolation foretold was not the end but a prelude to redemption, as Christ would soon offer His life for the salvation of all. Those who once turned away would one day proclaim Him as Lord and King.
Reflection
The Lord still longs to gather us under His wings, protecting us from the storms of sin and indifference. Are we willing to let Him? Let this passage awaken in us a deeper gratitude for Christ’s enduring patience and a renewed commitment to respond with faith and love.
Prayer
Loving Lord, You wept over Jerusalem for its hardness of heart. We ask You to soften our hearts that we may never reject Your call. Gather us under Your wings of mercy, protect us from sin, and keep us faithful until we joyfully proclaim, “Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord.” Amen.
DETAILED INTERPRETATION
INTRODUCTION
The lament over Jerusalem (Matthew 23:37–39) marks the tender yet tragic conclusion of Jesus’ public ministry before His Passion. After a series of severe denunciations against the scribes and Pharisees, the tone shifts dramatically—from righteous judgment to sorrowful compassion. Jesus, the rejected Messiah, now weeps over the holy city, addressing her by name in repetition: “Jerusalem, Jerusalem.” The double invocation expresses both love and lament, as a mother calls to her wayward child. Here He reveals His divine longing to gather His people as a hen shelters her chicks—a maternal image of tenderness and protection. Yet, despite His yearning, Jerusalem remains unrepentant, having silenced the prophets and now preparing to crucify the Son of God.
This passage captures the paradox of divine love and human freedom. Though Jesus has come as the fulfillment of all prophecy, His chosen city refuses the mercy extended to her. “Your house will be abandoned, desolate” foretells the destruction of the Temple and the spiritual emptiness of a faith separated from its Messiah. Yet even in judgment, there is hope: “You will not see me again until you say, ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.’” These final words look forward to the triumph of Palm Sunday and the future conversion of hearts. The lament, therefore, is not merely about Jerusalem’s ruin but about God’s unchanging desire to save His people—a love that continues to call every soul to repentance and return.
Matthew 23:37 “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how many times I yearned to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her young under her wings, but you were unwilling!”
After condemning the hypocrisy of the scribes and Pharisees, Jesus’ tone changes from judgment to deep lament. No longer addressing His opponents, He now speaks to the city that symbolizes God’s covenant people. “Jerusalem, Jerusalem” is a cry of divine love wounded by rejection—a repetition expressing both affection and anguish. The city that should have embraced the prophets and the Messiah has instead silenced and slain them. Jesus, the true Shepherd and Bridegroom of Israel, reveals His heart’s longing: to gather, protect, and nurture His people as a mother hen shelters her chicks. Yet His desire meets human resistance—“but you were unwilling.” This verse unveils both the persistence of God’s mercy and the tragedy of human freedom misused against grace.
Historical and Jewish Context
Jerusalem held a central place in Jewish faith as the dwelling of God’s presence and the heart of national worship. It was here that the Temple stood, the center of sacrifice and prayer. Yet, throughout Israel’s history, the city had become a place of contradiction—a symbol of divine glory and, at the same time, of rebellion. Prophets such as Jeremiah, Zechariah, and Uriah were persecuted or killed within its walls (cf. 2 Chronicles 24:21; Jeremiah 26:20–23). Jesus now stands as the final prophet in this tragic line, mourning the city that continually rejects the messengers of God.
The image of the hen gathering her chicks is rich in Jewish symbolism. Wings often represent divine protection, as seen in Psalm 91:4—“He will cover you with His pinions, and under His wings you will find refuge.” Jesus employs this maternal metaphor to reveal the gentleness of God’s love. Unlike the stern images of judgment in earlier verses, this scene exposes the heart of the Savior—a God who yearns, not punishes; who protects, not destroys. Yet, by refusing His embrace, Jerusalem seals its own fate. The lament is both personal and prophetic: a foreshadowing of the city’s coming desolation, and a reflection of the sorrow of divine love rejected.
Catholic Theological Perspective
From a Catholic perspective, this verse reveals the mystery of God’s enduring love and humanity’s freedom to resist it. Jesus’ yearning to “gather” His people prefigures the Church, where all are invited into the communion of faith under His care. The image of the hen evokes the motherhood of God’s mercy, showing that divine love is not only powerful but tender. The Catechism teaches, “God’s love is everlasting; He never tires of forgiving us” (CCC 210). Yet, love unreceived becomes sorrow—Christ’s lament reflects the divine pain of unreturned love.
This passage also invites reflection on the mission of the Church, the new Jerusalem, which continues Christ’s call to gather humanity into one flock. When the Church’s invitation is ignored or resisted, the heart of Christ still grieves. The unwillingness of Jerusalem represents every heart that refuses conversion. Yet even rejection does not end His compassion—it becomes the reason for His sacrifice. On the Cross, He fulfills this yearning once and for all, opening His arms as the ultimate sign of divine gathering and protection.
Parallels in Scripture
Key Terms
Catholic Liturgical Significance
This verse is proclaimed during Holy Week, particularly in the context of Jesus’ Passion, as the Church reflects on His sorrowful compassion for a world that rejects its Savior. The maternal image of gathering under wings inspires the faithful to seek refuge in Christ’s mercy. In the liturgy of the Eucharist, His longing is fulfilled sacramentally: He gathers believers from every nation into one body. The lament of Jerusalem thus transforms into the invitation of the Church—“Come to Me, all who labor and are burdened.”
Conclusion
Matthew 23:37 reveals the tender heart of God in the face of human rejection. Jesus, the divine Bridegroom, weeps over the city He loves, offering protection and peace to those who would receive it. His lament is not a cry of despair but of love that refuses to abandon. Every heart that resists Him becomes another Jerusalem—beloved, yet unyielding. Still, His invitation remains: to be gathered under His wings, to find refuge in His mercy, and to let divine compassion transform sorrow into salvation.
Reflection
Do I recognize how often God has tried to gather me through His grace, and how often I have resisted?
Am I willing to come under Christ’s wings of mercy and protection, trusting His love more than my pride?
How can I become a source of divine tenderness toward others, especially those far from God?
Prayer
Lord Jesus, You wept over Jerusalem with a love that never fades. Gather me under Your wings and shelter me from the pride that resists Your grace. Forgive my hardness of heart and make me an instrument of Your mercy. Teach me to love with Your tenderness, to pray for the lost, and to rejoice in Your saving compassion. May my life be a sign of Your longing love for all Your children. Amen.
Matthew 23:38 “Behold, your house will be abandoned, desolate.”
After expressing His sorrowful love for Jerusalem, Jesus utters this solemn declaration of judgment. “Your house” refers both to the city of Jerusalem and specifically to the Temple, once the dwelling place of God’s presence among His people. The word “behold” (idou) signals a prophetic announcement: the era of divine favor attached to the Temple is ending. The sacred space that once symbolized God’s covenant now stands empty, abandoned by the very Presence it was built to honor. The glory of God—once filling the Holy of Holies (cf. 1 Kings 8:10–11)—is now departing, embodied in Christ Himself as He prepares to leave the Temple for the last time. “Desolate” (erēmos) evokes both physical ruin and spiritual barrenness. The Temple that was meant to unite heaven and earth becomes a silent witness to the rejection of its Lord.
Historical and Jewish Context
The Temple in Jerusalem was not merely a building—it was the heart of Jewish faith and national identity. Believed to be God’s dwelling on earth, it was the center of prayer, sacrifice, and pilgrimage. To call it “desolate” would have sounded unimaginable to Jesus’ listeners. Yet His prophecy was fulfilled within a generation: in 70 A.D., the Romans destroyed the Temple during the siege of Jerusalem. Its ruin became a visible sign of Israel’s broken covenant and a turning point in salvation history. Just as the prophet Ezekiel saw the glory of the Lord depart from the Temple before its destruction (Ezekiel 10:18–19), so now Christ—the true Presence of God—withdraws, leaving the earthly sanctuary behind.
This desolation, however, was not merely architectural or national; it was spiritual. The Temple had ceased to be a place of faith and repentance, becoming instead a symbol of pride and corruption. Jesus’ cleansing of the Temple earlier (Matthew 21:12–13) anticipated this final verdict. The abandonment of “your house” signifies that the people have chosen human tradition over divine truth, ritual over relationship. Yet, even in this judgment, God’s plan unfolds—the old Temple gives way to a new one: the Body of Christ, the true and eternal dwelling of God among men (John 2:19–21).
Catholic Theological Perspective
In Catholic theology, this verse signifies the transition from the Old Covenant to the New. The destruction of the Temple marks not the end of God’s presence but its transformation. Christ Himself becomes the living Temple, and through His death and resurrection, the Church becomes His mystical Body—the new dwelling of God in the world. As St. Paul teaches, “You are God’s temple, and the Spirit of God dwells in you” (1 Corinthians 3:16). Thus, while the earthly sanctuary was abandoned, a greater sanctuary was raised in Christ and in His people.
This verse also serves as a warning to the Church and to individual believers. When faith becomes empty formality or when hearts grow indifferent to God’s presence, the “house” of the soul too can become desolate. The Catechism reminds us that sin alienates us from the life of grace, leaving the heart barren until restored by repentance (CCC 1855–1861). Yet even here, mercy speaks louder than judgment. The Lord who once departed from the earthly Temple now enters every heart that welcomes Him, making it His home through the Holy Spirit.
Parallels in Scripture
Key Terms
Catholic Liturgical Significance
This verse is reflected in the liturgies of Holy Week, particularly as the Church contemplates the Passion of Christ and the end of the Temple’s sacrificial system. In the Eucharist, Christians recognize that the true presence of God no longer dwells in stone sanctuaries but in the living Bread of Life. The prayer of the faithful becomes a plea that our hearts, families, and parishes may never become “desolate,” but remain vibrant temples filled with the Holy Spirit. The Lament over Jerusalem thus becomes a call to continual renewal—lest the spiritual house entrusted to us grow empty of love.
Conclusion
Matthew 23:38 reveals the tragic consequence of rejecting God’s love: the loss of His indwelling presence. When the people refused the Messiah, the glory departed from their midst, leaving behind an empty shell of religion. Yet in divine mercy, this loss became the doorway to a new covenant. The God who once dwelt in stone now dwells in hearts transformed by grace. What was desolate in judgment becomes fertile in faith. Jesus’ words are therefore both warning and promise: the soul that welcomes Him will never be abandoned, but will shine as a living temple of His glory.
Reflection
Is my heart a dwelling place for God’s presence, or has it grown cold and empty through neglect?
Do I honor God in spirit and truth, or merely in outward forms of worship?
How can I allow Christ to make my life a living temple of His mercy and love?
Prayer
Lord Jesus, do not let my heart become desolate or abandoned by Your presence. Cleanse me of pride and hypocrisy, and fill me with Your Holy Spirit. Let my soul be a dwelling of prayer, humility, and charity, where You may find rest and delight. May Your glory never depart from me, but shine through me to renew others with Your mercy and grace. Amen.
Matthew 23:39 “I tell you, you will not see me again until you say, ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.’”
These final words of Jesus in Matthew 23 close His public ministry with both a sorrowful farewell and a prophetic promise. Having lamented over Jerusalem’s rejection of divine love, He now foretells a time of separation—“you will not see me again.” The city that refused its Messiah will lose His visible presence, yet His absence is not permanent. The phrase “until you say” signals hope: there will come a day when Israel, and by extension all humanity, will recognize and welcome the One whom they have rejected. The quotation from Psalm 118:26 recalls the joyful acclamation of Palm Sunday—“Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!”—words that will one day be fulfilled when Christ returns in glory and His people greet Him not as a passing teacher but as the King of salvation.
Historical and Jewish Context
Psalm 118 was traditionally sung during major pilgrim feasts as a hymn of thanksgiving and victory. It was part of the Hallel psalms recited during the Passover liturgy, celebrating God’s deliverance and the coming of His anointed one. When Jesus entered Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, the crowds cried out these very words (Matthew 21:9), unknowingly fulfilling Scripture. Yet the same city that shouted in joy soon turned to condemnation. Now, Jesus reuses the same psalm but gives it eschatological depth—pointing to the final recognition of His messiahship.
In Jewish thought, “seeing” often symbolized spiritual perception. Thus, “you will not see me” implies more than physical absence—it denotes blindness of heart. The city’s spiritual vision is darkened until it is renewed by repentance and faith. The promise “until you say” offers not only a future hope for Israel’s conversion but also a universal prophecy of Christ’s Second Coming, when all nations will acknowledge Him as Lord. Just as Jerusalem’s rejection led to desolation, its future acceptance will usher in restoration, fulfilling the divine plan of salvation that began with Abraham and culminates in Christ.
Catholic Theological Perspective
From a Catholic perspective, this verse bridges judgment and redemption. It proclaims that divine mercy remains open even after rejection. Jesus does not say “never,” but “until”—a word of immense hope. His departure from the Temple signifies the end of the old covenantal worship, but His promise points toward the new covenant fulfilled in His Passion, Resurrection, and eventual return in glory. The Church sees this as both a prophecy of the Parousia (Second Coming) and a call to continual conversion.
The Catechism teaches: “The Lord’s return is imminent, but the precise moment remains hidden in God’s plan” (CCC 673). Every Eucharistic celebration anticipates this moment when the faithful proclaim, “Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord.” In the Mass, this acclamation becomes not only a remembrance of Christ’s entry into Jerusalem but a foretaste of His final return in glory. The same Lord who once wept over the city will one day be welcomed with faith and joy by all who open their hearts to Him.
Parallels in Scripture
Key Terms
Catholic Liturgical Significance
This verse finds a powerful echo in the Holy Mass, particularly in the Sanctus, when the faithful proclaim, “Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord. Hosanna in the highest.” The Church understands this acclamation as a meeting of past, present, and future: the Christ who once entered Jerusalem now comes sacramentally in the Eucharist and will come again in glory. Thus, every liturgy becomes a moment of encounter with the returning King. The verse also frames the Church’s prayer for the conversion of hearts—especially the ongoing hope for Israel’s recognition of Christ—as foretold by St. Paul (Romans 11:26).
Conclusion
Matthew 23:39 transforms lament into hope. The same Christ who mourned Jerusalem’s hardness of heart promises eventual restoration. Though He departs, His love endures; though judgment falls, mercy still waits. His words remind us that separation from God is never final when the heart remains open to repentance. One day, every tongue will confess and every heart will proclaim, “Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord.” Until that day, the Church lives in vigilant faith, awaiting the return of her Lord who will transform desolation into eternal joy.
Reflection
Do I live each day with the longing and readiness to welcome Christ when He comes again?
How often do I proclaim, not only with my lips but with my life, “Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord”?
Have I allowed spiritual blindness to keep me from recognizing Christ’s presence in the Eucharist, in Scripture, and in others?
Prayer
Lord Jesus, though we have often turned from You, Your mercy never ceases to call us back. Open my eyes to see You in faith, and prepare my heart to welcome You in glory. Let every prayer, every Eucharist, and every act of love be my way of saying, “Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord.” May my life become a living invitation for You to reign in my heart and in the world forever. Amen.
CONCLUSTION
In Matthew 23:37–39, Jesus’ voice moves from prophetic woe to wounded love. He names Jerusalem twice, revealing the ache of a God who has tirelessly sought His people through prophets and now through His own Incarnate Heart. The maternal image—gathering chicks beneath protective wings—unveils divine tenderness frustrated by human unwillingness. “Your house… desolate” names the sober consequence of rejecting the Living Presence: religion emptied of relationship, worship without the God who sanctifies. Yet judgment here is not the last word but the truthful diagnosis that precedes healing.
Hope breaks through in the word “until.” The same city that would not receive Him is promised a future greeting: “Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord.” In the Church’s Eucharist, that acclamation already resounds as pledge and preview of the final welcome at Christ’s return. The lament thus becomes an invitation: let every heart cease its resistance, come under the wings of Mercy, and be made a living temple. What desolation named, grace can fill; what absence exposed, Presence can restore.
PRAYER
Lord Jesus, Lover of Jerusalem and Lover of my soul, gather me beneath Your wings. Heal my refusals with Your mercy, and turn my desolation into a dwelling for Your Spirit. May my lips and life proclaim, “Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord,” until the day I welcome You in glory. Amen.