Palm Sunday: Jesus' Entry into Jerusalem​

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It’s just before dawn, and most of the disciples are, unusually, already up. There’s a quiet unease. You’re returning to Jerusalem with Jesus. All this week, there’s been division among the followers. Some say this is when he frees Israel and becomes king; others mutter that he’s going to his death. You look up, and a few disciples bring a donkey to Jesus. He seems to nod in approval, and not long after, the group starts the short walk into the city.

 

As soon as the sun crosses the horizon, people start to gather. Some run ahead to tell the city of his approach, while others run back, carrying palms to shade him. Then, as soon as you approach its outskirts, a crowd seems to rise from nowhere, throwing cloaks at Jesus’s feet and shouting, “Save us, Son of David!”

 

You wonder, and hope fills your heart as you think This must be the time of the Messiah. But as you look out across the joyous crowd welcoming him as a king, your eyes turn to Jesus. And something stops you. There, you don’t see a king but a roaming preacher sitting on a beast of burden in ragged clothes. This is the one who will fight to free them? This is the one who will establish a new kingdom? Where are his armies?

 

Just then, you realize Jesus has stopped and gets off the donkey to enter the temple. As he enters the courtyard, you see his jaw tighten as he surveys those gathered, his eyes burning.

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Holy Monday: Jesus in Bethany

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You think back to the night before Jesus entered Jerusalem. It was an odd night. Just a few days before, he had raised Lazarus from the dead (or had he just been asleep as some argued?), and Jesus couldn’t go anywhere without a crowd crushing about him. Some curious to see the Man of Wonders, others there on more practical needs, hoping for healing and wholeness. And he stayed with them. For hours and hours, he spoke and healed and was with the crowd, but you could tell he was getting tired.

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That night, though, he snuck into the town of Bethany. You thought it was to heal someone deathly ill or perhaps even bring someone back to life. But as Jesus took you through the city, you realized you were going to a house you were almost as familiar with as Jesus was. The home of Mary, Martha, and Lazarus. It was just dinner. There was no preaching or healing, just Jesus with those he loved. Martha served a glorious dinner and then joined the conversation with Mary and Lazarus. The three of them shared stories, reminisced, and laughed with Jesus. For all the time he spent in prayer these days, perhaps, you think, perhaps even Jesus needed time with his friends, too.

 

The night wasn’t long enough, though. Jesus and Judas argued, and somehow, the townspeople found Jesus. And, like always, he got up and spent time with them. Late into the night, you hear Jesus walk back to where you and the other disciples are staying and fall asleep.

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Holy Tuesday: The Cleansing of the Temple

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The temple courtyard is filled with people as Passover nears. It’s crowded, but you only hear the clinking of coins hitting the pavement and the fluttering wings of newly freed birds as the money changer’s tables lay scattered. “This is the courtyard for all people,” Jesus’ voice echoes across the stone pavement.  “My house is meant to be a house for all because you were promised to be a blessing to the world. But you have robbed the people of a home and used my dwelling place for your earthly riches. You honor me with your lips, but your hearts are far from me. I am here to announce a year acceptable to the Lord, bringing freedom to the oppressed, healing to the sick, and help to those in need.”

 

The longer Jesus speaks, the more the people crowded around him to listen. But you glance over and see some of the leaders of the Temple begin to gather and whisper in corners. They can’t arrest him now, you think, the people would riot. But then you remember what Jesus has said, “I must be handed over and killed,” and you think, surely not. Not yet.

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Holy Wednesday: Preparations for Passover

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You’re walking with Judas in the market. It’s crowded, noisy. The city is flooded with pilgrims with Passover tomorrow, and you’re shocked some disciples found a room to celebrate this close to the feast. You’re running through the last few items you need to get when Judas asks you, “When do you think Jesus will speak against the rulers the way he speaks against the Pharisees?” He pauses, looking out intently, “I thought the messiah was supposed to free us from our oppressors, to be our king. But I have yet to hear him condemn Caesar or Pilate or any Roman official. What is he doing?”

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You wait to answer, unsure if you should share what you thought as you watched Jesus enter Jerusalem.  He goes on, “Sometimes I wonder if Jesus needs something to force him to act. Why else would he come back to Jerusalem? Surely, he knows there are those on the verge of arresting him? It’s only a matter of time at this point. Why does Jesus seem so different from the Messiah I’ve heard about in the scriptures?”

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Holy Thursday: Passover​

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It’s the Passover meal with Jesus, and you’ve all just finished singing a song, but suddenly Jesus gets up. The meal isn’t over yet, you think. Where is he going? But he beacons all of you to come with him. You follow him.

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The streets are quiet at this time of night; everyone else is still in the midst of their Passover meal. But you soon realize he’s taking you to one of his favorite spots to pray: the Mount of Olives. Tonight, from up here, with the full moon, you can see the whole city stretching out before you, dotted with the warm glow of the many homes below. Jesus goes off to pray with a few disciples, and you soon fall asleep.

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A few hours later, you wake up, unsure why. There’s no wind, and it’s quiet. You look over and still see Jesus just through the trees. He seems to still be praying. You stand up to walk and try and warm yourself when you look down at the road you walked up. There’s a grouping of torches nearing you, and you feel a weight press down on your chest. From where Jesus is praying, you’re sure he can see them, too.

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Nearer and nearer, they approach, so you wake one of the other disciples to see what you should do. But while you’re talking, you hear the clink of metal on metal, and the flickering of torches invades the moonlight where you stand, and suddenly, you see Judas in front of a band of soldiers. In a voice clear and cold he says, “Where is the Christ?”

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Good Friday: The Death of Jesus ​

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Jesus has been taken. The disciples are scattered. You’re somewhere in the city of Jerusalem and, by instinct or some pull, find yourself outside the place where Mary, the mother of Jesus, is staying. You knock on the door, and with little pause, Mary opens it. The first light of dawn illuminates her face. She hasn’t slept. You tell her what happened last night, but you can’t make out the expression on her face. “What do we do?” You ask. She sighs deeply and leads you back into the city.

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The day is a haze of moments with Jesus. You see him in a courtyard before Pilate and catch a glimpse of his mangled body after he’s scourged. Mary dares to approach him while he’s carrying the cross, but you stay back.

You can’t walk with him toward the hill. The streets are too narrow and the people too many. So Mary leads you by twisting side streets until, at last, you’re on the edge of the city.

 

The ground slopes upward, and you lift your eyes to see an outline obscured by a thick veil of clouds in the sky. You see a man hanging on a cross. You pause for a moment, unsure if you want to, if you can, if you dare go any nearer. Mary stops, holds out her hand, and you walk together.

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Holy Saturday: Jesus in the Tomb

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There’s nothing to do. The body is buried, and with it, your hopes for a Messiah. You sit in the darkness and wait for a reason to hope for the dawn.

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Easter Sunday: Jesus Raises from the Dead

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Just before dawn, you leave your home to go to the tomb. Your heart is numb from the events of the last week. There is no thought, no understanding, only the rhythm of your feet on the dirt path and a desire to at least be close to the body of the one you love.

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You turn the corner that brings the tomb into view and see something is wrong, even in the murkiness of early morning. The stone has been pushed aside, and the void of the open tomb swallows what little light there is into an empty blackness. Your pace quickens; you run, praying that they will have at least left the body alone. But as you lunge into the cavern, you see he is gone. First, they took his life, now, you think, they’ve taken his body. You weep.

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After a time, you feel a hand on your shoulder, and a voice asks, “Why do you weep?”

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“Where is he? Please, if you know, where did they take him?”

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“Dear one, I am here,” and suddenly you recognize that voice, and see Jesus kneeling before you. You reach out and hug him. This is no phantom or ghost. It is he. You feel the roughness of the garment, the warmth of his body, and even his beard tickling your neck.

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“I am here to see you and comfort your heart, but I cannot stay just yet. Go and tell the others I live. I will see you soon.”

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Photo by Thays Orrico on Unsplash