Who Is This Guy?
Palm Sunday, a borrowed donkey, and a question that still won’t go away
Picture it.
A dusty road just outside Jerusalem.
People pressing in from every direction.
Some climbing up on rocks to see better. Others standing on tiptoe. Word spreading faster than facts ever do:
He’s coming.
And then… there he is.
Not on a war horse.
Not surrounded by soldiers.
Not looking anything like what people expected.
On a donkey.
And the crowd does what crowds do.
They react.
Cloaks hit the ground.
Branches start waving.
Voices rise:
Hosanna.
Which, by the way, doesn’t mean “yay.”
It means:
Save us.
And in the middle of all that noise—Matthew tells us the whole city is stirred up. Buzzing. Asking:
“Who is this guy?”
And honestly… that question has been echoing for a long time.
I found myself thinking about that the other day—
driving one of those long stretches between Simsbury and Newburgh,
which I’ve been doing a lot since this summer.
And for some reason, I put on the entire rock opera Jesus Christ Superstar.
Now, if you’re of a certain age, you know exactly what I’m talking about.
That tall, narrow brown lyrics booklet.
The record spinning.
Playing it over and over again.
I was about twelve years old when I first listened to it—
sitting on the floor of my bedroom with a friend,
singing every word like we understood it…
even though we didn’t fully understand it.
And right there in the opening lines is that same question:
“What’s the buzz? Tell me what’s happening…”
Which, when you think about it, isn’t all that different from what the crowd was asking that day:
Who is this guy?
Because in that culture, when a king showed up…
you knew what kind of king you were getting.
Powerful. Decisive. Victorious.
Someone who would take control, fix things, and win.
Honestly?
That’s still the kind of leader we tend to look for.
Someone strong enough to overpower what’s broken.
Someone bold enough to take charge.
Someone clear enough to make everything make sense again.
And then Jesus shows up.
On a donkey.
Not to conquer—but to enter.
Not to dominate—but to draw near.
Not to win in the way anyone expected—but to love in a way no one could ignore.
This is the part Palm Sunday gently disrupts.
Because the question isn’t just Who is this guy?
It’s also:
What kind of king is this?
And the answer is…
Not the kind we usually go looking for.
He’s a peacemaker.
A truth-teller.
A table-turner and a table-setter.
Someone who notices the people others overlook.
Someone who refuses to play by the rules of power.
Someone whose authority looks like humility.
Someone whose strength looks like compassion.
Someone whose whole life points to one thing:
LOVE.
The kind of love that shows up.
That stays.
That tells the truth.
That heals.
That gives itself away.
Which brings the question a little closer to home.
Because Palm Sunday isn’t just asking the crowd something.
It’s asking us.
Who is this guy… to you?
I’ve been thinking about that lately.
When I was younger, Jesus was mostly someone I learned about—
Sunday School, Bible stories, the familiar version.
Then, somewhere along the way, he became a teacher to me.
A teacher who kept pointing people toward something deeper:
Love your neighbor.
Care for the poor.
Forgive each other.
Welcome the outsider.
Seek the heart of God in everything.
And over time, that invitation—
to actually live that way—
shaped my life more than I ever expected.
It’s what led me into ordained ministry as a Deacon in the United Methodist Church.
Trying, imperfectly, to connect the church and the world…
and keep both grounded in something real.
These days?
I’d say I’m still learning who he is.
Because the question isn’t just Who is this guy?
It’s the question that keeps finding us…
at twelve years old,
on long car rides,
in seasons of change,
and in moments when we’re paying attention again.
And maybe that’s the point.
Because no matter what you believe—
or doubt—
or are still trying to figure out…
This question has a way of finding us again and again:
Who is Jesus to me?
And maybe even more importantly:
What does that mean for how I live?
Because if he is who he says he is…
if love really is at the center of it all…
Then that question doesn’t stay theoretical for long.
It starts shaping things.
How we show up.
How we treat people.
What we hold onto.
What we let go of.
What matters most.
So this Palm Sunday, maybe don’t rush past the moment.
Stay with the question.
Let it follow you into the week.
Because the story is just getting started…
…and it’s going to take us somewhere none of us would have expected.
Reflection Questions
When you hear the question “Who is this guy?”—what rises in you honestly?
What kind of “king” (leader, guide, presence) do you find yourself wanting right now?
If love—not power—is at the center… what might that change about how you move through your week?
A Song to Carry With You
“What’s the Buzz / Strange Thing Mystifying” – Jesus Christ Superstar
Let it stir something.
Let it feel a little unsettled.
A little questioning.
A little unfinished.
Because that question?
It’s not meant to be rushed.
Enjoyed your post, Deb. I hadn’t heard the “save us” meaning of hosanna before.
Wonderful message, particularly for me today. Love it !