And when he was come into Jerusalem, all the city was moved, saying, Who is this?
This scene takes place during what is often called the "Triumphal Entry" — when Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a donkey just days before his arrest and crucifixion. Jerusalem at this time would have been packed with Jewish pilgrims arriving for Passover, one of the most important religious festivals of the year. What's striking is Matthew's word choice: the Greek word behind "stirred" is seismos — the same word used for an earthquake. The whole city wasn't mildly curious; it was shaken. And the question that erupted — "Who is this?" — is not a casual one. It's the central question of the entire Gospel, and of the Christian faith itself. Matthew presents it as the question a city asks when something it cannot quite categorize has just walked through its gates.
Jesus, you are still walking into settled places and shaking things loose. Don't let me get so comfortable that I stop sitting honestly with the question of who you are and what that means for my actual life. I want to know you more than I want to be undisturbed. Amen.
The Greek word Matthew uses here is seismos. As in seismic activity. As in the ground moving. One man on a borrowed donkey rides into a city, and the whole place trembles. There's almost something absurd about it — no army, no political office, no dramatic entrance. Just a person. And yet Jerusalem, in all its noise and activity and religious machinery, stops and asks a question it cannot answer: who is this? That question didn't rise from idle curiosity. It rose from the specific, disorienting feeling of encountering something that doesn't fit any category you already have. That question is still live. Not as a theological exercise you complete once and file away, but as a recurring disruption. "Who is this?" gets asked again every time you read something Jesus said that makes you genuinely uncomfortable, or every time you expect him to show up one way and he doesn't, or every time his presence in your life shakes something you thought was solid. The honest answer isn't always neat. But the question itself — asked seriously, stayed with patiently — has a way of becoming the most important thing you're doing. What part of your life has Jesus walked into recently and unsettled?
Matthew uses earthquake language to describe Jerusalem's reaction to Jesus' arrival. Why do you think that particular word was chosen, and what does it tell us about the weight of this moment?
Where in your own life has an encounter with Jesus — through his teaching, through prayer, through another person — shaken or unsettled something you thought was settled?
The question "Who is this?" is still being asked today — even by people who have been in church for decades. Why do you think so many people, including longtime believers, never fully land on an answer?
If Jesus walked into the most routine part of your week right now — your workplace, your dinner table, your 6 AM — what do you think would be stirred up? What would be exposed?
How would you answer the question "Who is this?" if someone who knew nothing about Christianity asked you sincerely today? How might your answer differ from how you would have answered five years ago?
When He entered Jerusalem, all the city was trembling [with excitement], saying, "Who is this?"
AMP
And when he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was stirred up, saying, “Who is this?”
ESV
When He had entered Jerusalem, all the city was stirred, saying, 'Who is this?'
NASB
When Jesus entered Jerusalem, the whole city was stirred and asked, “Who is this?”
NIV
And when He had come into Jerusalem, all the city was moved, saying, “Who is this?”
NKJV
The entire city of Jerusalem was in an uproar as he entered. “Who is this?” they asked.
NLT
As he made his entrance into Jerusalem, the whole city was shaken. Unnerved, people were asking, "What's going on here? Who is this?"
MSG