What’s All the Ruckus?! (Mar. 29, 2026) Matthew 21.1-11

Among people who speak in a folksy manner there is a saying used when asking someone what is happening or why there is so much noise. That phrase is, “What’s all the ruckus?!” You know that you have said this phrase (or something similar) sometime in your life, especially those who have or had children of a certain age who are a bit…rambunctious. It is a phrase that we use to ask just what is happening when we hear a commotion that we do not know and did not approve. It is what happened so many years ago in Jerusalem when Jesus came to the city for the Passover.

We have come to the last Sunday of Lent. This is usually a joyous time with the singing of the triumphant hymn of All Glory, Laud and Honor, while the congregation waves palm branches and children process waving theirs or, more likely, smacking one another with them. It is a time to celebrate what many call the triumphal entry of Jesus into Jerusalem.

According to Matthew, Jesus was coming into Jerusalem for the very first time on what we call Palm Sunday. I’m sure you know the story: he was riding a donkey (though Matthew has him riding two animals, a feat I would like to have seen) and the disciples were leading him into the city. There was a considerable commotion among the people at this time. It was the time of the Passover and the city population swelled with pilgrims who had come from all over the known world to celebrate in the City of David. When those who knew Jesus and his deeds saw him coming, they cheered and waved branches and laid their cloaks on the road before him.

This is pretty much the basics. But there are some underlying currents here that need to be addressed. Why were the people so excited? Was there meaning in the waving of branches and the laying of cloaks? What does the word hosanna mean and why is that important? How were the Romans processing all that was happening and really, were they all that concerned? Why was there all this ruckus?

The people, the Jews that is, were looking for a savior. The Jews had known being conquered and oppressed for a long, long time. The first time they were oppressed was, of course, when they were enslaved in Egypt. Oppression followed the heady golden ages of David and Soloman in the guise of Assyria and Babylon, which ended with the Persians conquering the Babylonians and allowing those who were in exile to return to their homeland. This, however, did not mean that they were free to do as they wished. They were now a province of the Persian Empire and answerable to the rulers of that government. With the fall of the Persians, they then came under the rule of the Seleucids, Greeks who took this part of Alexander the Great’s conquest and ruled it until they were thrown out of the land by the Maccabean Revolt in the mid Second century BCE. After 79 years of self-rule, the Jews once again found themselves under the yoke of a foreign nation, this time Rome. Even though Rome was lenient toward the Jews when it came to religion, they demanded that taxes be paid and the laws of the empire obeyed. So, there was tension that simmered just below the surface. The people looked for someone who would lead them to overthrow the hated oppressors and bring them to a new golden age. When the people start cheering for Jesus, there is more to this than them just being excited that a popular teacher was coming to town.

The word hosanna was, by the first century, used as a praise in worship, something that it is today, but it was not always so. In Hebrew the word means “Save us, we pray.” The people wanted someone who would save them. Not a savior who would lead by love and mercy, but a military savior who would crush the forces of Rome and bring victory to the land. And it was not uncommon for the people to know of such people. There were many who had come and gone in the past few years. Uprisings were not uncommon and all claimed to be the Messiah of God. So, when the people heard that this man, the one who healed the blind and did great deeds of power was coming into the city, they were excited. It was Passover, the time of liberation. Here was the one who, they believed, would fulfill that expectation.

A crowd of cheering people would certainly catch the attention of Rome. We are not told just how big the crowd was, but it was probably not that big. Rome would squash a large gathering. For the Passover festival they had increased the garrison in the city, marching in with banners and all the trappings of power on display. The governor, Pilate, came down from his capital in Caesarea to ensure that there was good order in the city during the festival. The Romans were on high alert and cheering crowd at a gate where pilgrims entered might not have been a big deal, but they would want to check it out. The crowd certainly caught the attention of the religious authorities who seem to not have known who Jesus was.

If the crowd did not really catch attention, their actions would certainly have. The last time that there had been a procession with branches waving, cloaks being thrown down and a man on a donkey being praised was when the Maccabees had taken Jerusalem from the Seleucid dynasty in the 160s BCE. The Romans and the local officials all knew their history. They knew about the Maccabee Revolt and the outcomes. So, they began to watch Jesus.

But in all this noise and celebration there is something that is usually missed. Even today we miss it, especially when we call this the triumphal entry. It is the fact that Jesus himself is not coming in triumph, but in meekness. The text says that he comes “…humble and mounted on a donkey, and on a colt, the foal of a donkey.”[1]

This entry into Jerusalem is in direct contrast to that of a Roman entry. In those a general or governor would enter riding a war horse or in a chariot and be accompanied by a large troop of soldiers. It would be a spectacular sight that all the people would want to see. It was done for this time of festivities, Passover, a time when the city population swelled from around 40,000 to some 200,000. The Romans’ entry would have shown the people who was the power in this place and that they had better mind their p’s and q’s.

Jesus’ entry is the exact opposite. He comes in, initially, quietly. But his disciples begin to make noise and the people who recognize him join in. As stated before, they begin to lay down branches (not necessarily palms) and clothes, a sign of them welcoming royalty. And Jesus allows this because he is coming into his own reign as a king, though a king that is different from the one that is expected.

There is one thing that is left out of the quotation from Zechariah: That the one coming would be coming in triumphant and victorious. This deleting would be to emphasize the humility of Jesus. But there is also something to be noted here. In the NRSV it says that the king will be coming in humbly. Other translations say that he comes in gentleness, unassuming, meek. And it is that last word, meek, that needs further investigation.

It is one of the meanings of the Greek word praus. Meek defined in English, for many people and the dictionary, means someone who is weak and not a threat. But in the Greek, it can mean someone who is gentle and humble.

I believe that meek is the best term to be used here. Jesus is coming to the city gentle and humble. He comes not making the noise that would come with a triumphant general. Those around him are making the noise. Jesus comes quietly, humbly, knowing what awaits and that the people gathered round can be very fickle. One day they are praising him and cheering. The next they are calling for his crucifixion.

Matthew says that at his entry the whole city is in “turmoil.” Again, the English word does not grasp the fulness of the Greek word seio which is the basis for the word seismic. In other words, the city is “shaken” much like it was when Jesus was born. But the one who now shakes the city as he did at his birth enters as he did then, not triumphant, but gentle and humble. Even so, there are those who are troubled by one who is gentle, humble, meek.

Who are we on this Palm Sunday? Are we those whose excitement for the entry is because we believe that the king who will conquer all is here? Or are we excited because we know what Jesus is about to do, lay down his life without a fight? Unfortunately, throughout history the Church too often operates as the world does: fight force with greater force. Being gentle and humble is for the weak.  

The coming week is a study in contrasts. The crowd cheering and calling for a savior one day, will by the end of the week be calling for his crucifixion. The disciples who led the cheering one day, will flee and cower in hiding. The governor known for his cruelty, will say he finds no fault in this man and try to set him free. What will today’s Church be known for doing? Will we use power and coercion to make sure we get our “fair share” or even that we get the bigger piece of the pie? Or will we follow the example and commands of Jesus to love, help those who are poor, stand for the oppressed, and turn the other cheek?

Diane G. Chen writes that, “…there is dissonance between worldly standard and divine standard when it comes to humility and meekness, the modus operandi of Jesus the king and his followers.”[2] What is our standard? Are we making sure that we are the ones in power who are sticking it to those who disagree with us or is our standard humility and meekness? Know this: When we claim the one who came in the unexpected way, we make a statement to the world about who rules our lives and guides our actions. O. Wesley Allen writes, “Christ is king in the sense of one who leads the church to march victoriously, nonviolently, and even foolishly (riding two donkeys!) into the center of politics, offering a different vision of God’s will for the world from what any Caesar, ancient or contemporary, has ever offered. Seen this way, waving those palms in worship is not just something the children do as amused adults watch; it is a political act claiming the church’s allegiance to God’s vision for the world.”[3]

We are today joyous, and we look forward to next week when we will be more joyous. But do not forget about the week in between. We are too often like those on that day Jesus came into Jerusalem. We make a ruckus for a man we want to be a conqueror and but upon finding him meek and humble with no designs for conquest, we turn away in disappointment, bitterness, and even anger. And yet, Jesus then causes quite the ruckus after being crucified by being resurrected and showing he conquered both sin and death. The ruckus he caused with that act is the ruckus we are to proclaim. Go and cause a ruckus. Amen.

[1] New Revised Standard Version: Updated Edition. Friendship Press, 2021. Print.

[2]Green, Joel B.; Long, Thomas G.; Powery, Luke A.; Powery, Luke; Rigby, Cynthia L.; Sharp, Carolyn J.. Connections: A Lectionary Commentary for Preaching and Worship: Year A, Volume 2, Lent through Pentecost (p. 114). (Function). Kindle Edition.

[3]Green, Joel B.; Long, Thomas G.; Powery, Luke A.; Powery, Luke; Rigby, Cynthia L.; Sharp, Carolyn J.. Connections: A Lectionary Commentary for Preaching and Worship: Year A, Volume 2, Lent through Pentecost (p. 114). (Function). Kindle Edition.