This Changes Everything

Beloved People of God,

So much can happen in a week, and Holy Week is no exception. The joys of Palm Sunday seem to melt like snow with each passing day. The shouts of “Hosanna!” and exuberance of the crowds fade with every passing hour.

By Thursday, the masses have drifted away, the exclamations have grown still. Jesus and his disciples ascend the stairs into the upper room, and in that sacred space, Christ’s suffering begins. Picture the moment as He washes the feet of James and John, Andrew and Matthew. Then Jesus washes the feet of Judas. Christ’s love is so great, despite knowing what is to come, He still takes up his betrayer’s feet and cleans them. At the table, Jesus gives thanks for the bread and the cup—broken and poured out symbols of his sacrifice—and shares them with Simon and Thomas, with Peter and Thaddeus. Jesus offers the bread and cup to Judas.

In the upper room, Jesus takes the symbols of his suffering and prepares us for the Garden. He sets our eyes on his condemnation and the cross on the hill. In the upper room, lit by candlelight, we foresee the noon skies darkened on Friday as Jesus is crowned King and crucified.

How can we not weep on the Sabbath as the dawn illuminates the tomb where His body is held? How can we breathe with the hollowness in our chests, the absolute devastation of our loss. Jesus the Christ, the long-awaited Messiah is dead. There, his body wrapped quickly, his skin torn and stained with blood, we have no access. He is beyond our reach to anoint his body for burial. Our grieving is arrested, and we are soul shattered.

Where are the songs and shouts of Sunday last? Where are the palms waving and voices rejoicing? Why is the silence of the early dawn as we walk to the tomb so deafening? This Sunday we have the spices prepared to honor Him and all the ways He showed us the face of God.

As we come closer to the tomb, who will roll away the stone…