Passion Week: The week that started with a parade and celebration, and ends in betrayals, horror and murder. On Sunday, Jesus was welcomed as a king by thousands, yet by the end of the week he would be dead and his followers scattered and demoralized. With hindsight, we can go through Palm Sunday and the early events of the week with a sense of foreboding, and feel the portending evil during the Last Supper. But for those surrounding Jesus, for those in the moment, it must have been a grand start to the week!
On Saturday, Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead and spends a celebrating evening with his friends. Jesus enters on Sunday to palm-waving throngs who seem to believe and worship him. On Monday Jesus clears the temple of people perverting religion and oppressing the poor. He spends the next couple days teaching of grace. By Thursday evening it must have been an exhilarating, even powerful, week, seeming to culminate for them in the intimacy of the Last Supper with their friend and Lord.
We probably know the story from there, or at least have heard the story; what starts late Thursday night in Gethsemane and seems to end on Friday evening on a cross. I find it beneficial this week to remind myself of the realness – the physicalness – of his sacrifice; to read the accounts of this week from the Gospels; to read them without concern for the contradictions or the translator’s agenda or religion’s abuse of the story; to simply read them as a narrative of a man who lived and loved and felt passion and pain. But to be really beneficial, I find I have to make room for these stories to penetrate my being. That means setting aside distractions: TV, radio, alcohol, comforting foods. Things that are not wrong, things that Jesus enjoyed on Saturday with his friends before his week of destiny. But noise, media, clutter – all things that occupy me and distract me. I find that in this space I may be anxious, scrambling for other thoughts. But it is my intent this week to create that space and let him fill it. Perhaps with peace and sadness. To resist the urge to jump ahead in the story, to say, “But on Sunday …!” To live in the sorrow and longing for peace that makes joy real.
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4 comments:
I so respect your dedication to removing the distractions and focusing on the sacrifice and love of Jesus. I look forward to hearing what insights and discoveries, if any, come from allowing God to fill up those spaces. Even if nothing profound arises, I am certain your relationship with God will be strengthened and clarified. Good luck!
I am inspired
Your dedication to the Lenton season and especially holy week is inspirational.
I think often in this season I have been focused, as you correctly noted, on Sunday. I forget the pain and sadness of Saturday. What a lonely day that must have been. I often forget that at that point in time, Sunday hadn't happened. How demoralizing must that have been and how fearful must they have been.
Thankfully there was a Sunday, but I still need to reflect on the Thursday, Friday and Saturday (not to mention the teachings of grace wouldn't hurt to focus on as well).
Thanks for your insight and writings. You do have a way with words.
Hi David, I know this is an old post, but I've revisited it a few times since you posted it and have always felt compelled to comment.
First of all, I really enjoy your writing... Please keep it up!
In this particular season, your desire to "get back to basics" is moving. As I read, I find places where my own thoughts are provoked, my paradigms broken, etc. (For instance, as Erick describes, we rarely hear discussions of how/what Christians at large must have felt from Friday to Sunday. Perhaps it's the discussions to which I listen, or perhaps it's just that we tend to "jump ahead to Sunday", as you describe.)
I hope you met your objective of peace, sorrow, and resultant joy.
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