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Luke 23:56
Last night, alter sunset, the disciples had scattered—some perhaps back to Bethany, others locking themselves inside the upper room. Outside, numerous small fires burned in the soft glow of twilight. Smoke from the Passover sacrifices made the moon look red as it rose over the Mount of Olives. The stars, one by one, began to shine. The pilgrims, many of whom were unaware of what had happened to the rabbi teaching in the temple courts just days ago, began to eat the unleavened bread and the meat roasted with bitter herbs.
"What does all this mean?" the little children would ask. The parents gently responded: "It was this very night that the Israelites took the Mood of the Passover lambs and put it on the doorposts of their houses with a hyssop branch. Then they roasted the meat with bitter herbs to symbolize the bitterness of their years of slavery in Egypt. They locked themselves in their houses and didn't dare go outside until the next morning; the final plague was about to come upon Egypt. At midnight they huddled together as the angel of God struck the land. But when the angel saw the blood on the Israelite houses, he passed over them. When morning came, the Israelites cracked opened the doors and looked outside. They were free to go." With the ancient story replaying in their minds, the children went to sleep and imagined themselves, long ago, following a bright cloud wherever it went,
The disciples awake, stunned. It is Saturday, the fifteenth day of Nisan. In obedience to the Torah, the disciples spend the first day of Unleavened Bread remembering their freedom from slavery. There is a tradition, in keeping with this day of freedom, that Pilate must release a Jewish prisoner each year on the eve o f Passover. This year it had come down to two: Yeshua Bar-Abbas (Jesus, son of the father") or Yeshua, the only begotten Son of the Father. One had to die to set the other free. This year it was Bar-Abbas who went free.
As the bewildered disciples mourn the death of the Messiah, their hopes dashed, they wait in the quiet and calm of this Sabbath day, when God rested from all his work. Their Lord lies in a sealed and dark tomb, cut off from his own creation, hidden in a womb of rock and earth.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Friday, April 22, 2011
The Journey of Holy Week: Friday
Mark 15:1-47
Under the bright full moon, the disciples continue to follow Jesus to an olive grove at the foot of the Mount of Olives. It is in this garden that the new Adam begins to reverse the effects of the first Adam's rebellion. Amid the shadows of tortured olive tree branches, the chosen son of Eve wrestles to submit himself to God's will. Only a few days ago, Jesus had told the disciples that God could move mountains, that all things are possible to the one who believes. But now, as Jesus prays, there is no answer.
Here, alone in the garden, Jesus is overwhelmed by a sickness unto death—a mental and spiritual agony so deep it threatens to eclipse his vision of the Father's good plan. The hour of darkness has come. The weight of the world's sin lies heavy upon him: the bitterness of the betrayal by his beloved friend Judas, that one lost and confused lamb who will not be found; the faithlessness and desertion of his disciples; the suffering and cruelty he is about to endure. His priestly office will be rejected by the religious leaders, his kingship mocked by the Roman officials; he will know the humiliation of false accusation. For a brief moment in time Jesus tastes utter despair, and this is only the beginning of the cross that awaits him.
Sometime in these early morning hours of Friday, the fourteenth of Noon, he is arrested and taken into custody. By the time he is handed over to Pilate, the busiest and most important day of the year is already underway. It is the time for preparation, when the priests must slaughter the sacrificial animals for the evening meal. On this day, long ago, Israel was to prepare hastily for their departure from Egypt. Now, centuries later, thousands of animals need to be slaughtered to provide for the enormous crowds. In order to complete the work before twilight, the priests have begun a tradition of starting the sacrifices at noon. At exactly noon, just as the shadow on the sundial becomes a thin line, the priests begin the work. Ironically; it is just at this moment that, like the penultimate plague on Egypt, darkness covers the land. The shadow on the sundial vanishes. By now the true Passover Lamb is being sacrificed.
Jesus has been taken outside the gates of the holy city and crucified naked and facing away from the temple, having been proclaimed unclean. The Roman officials have displayed him, along with two other criminals, in utter shame before the great crowds, who go in and out of the city as he bears the horrors of history and the deepest anguish of the world.
The gospels say nothing about the three hours of darkness that engulf the land as Jesus suffers crucifixion.
At three o'clock, as the altar of the temple runs with blood, Jesus dies on the cross. Puzzled by the strange signs occurring around them, the priests work hard to finish the sacrifices by sunset. The first day of Unleavened Bread is about to begin. A few of Jesus' followers remain by the cross, gazing upon the disfigured body of the one who made humankind in his image.
Only later will they come to understand that in this cross humanity's image is restored. This image had united the spiritual and earthly realms—the breath of life inhabiting the dust of the earth. From the beginning, the human person was, in its very nature, a marriage of the heavenly and the earthly. But heaven and earth were violently torn apart by our first parents' sin. Stretched out upon the cross, between heaven and earth, Jesus has reconciled the two realms in his own torn body. 'This was the King of the Jews—not the king the disciples were expecting, but a humble and gracious king; one whom the disciples, and eventually the whole world, would come to embrace. It was in this cross that the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, with its deadly fruit, would become the Tree of Life, with healing for all nations.
Under the bright full moon, the disciples continue to follow Jesus to an olive grove at the foot of the Mount of Olives. It is in this garden that the new Adam begins to reverse the effects of the first Adam's rebellion. Amid the shadows of tortured olive tree branches, the chosen son of Eve wrestles to submit himself to God's will. Only a few days ago, Jesus had told the disciples that God could move mountains, that all things are possible to the one who believes. But now, as Jesus prays, there is no answer.
Here, alone in the garden, Jesus is overwhelmed by a sickness unto death—a mental and spiritual agony so deep it threatens to eclipse his vision of the Father's good plan. The hour of darkness has come. The weight of the world's sin lies heavy upon him: the bitterness of the betrayal by his beloved friend Judas, that one lost and confused lamb who will not be found; the faithlessness and desertion of his disciples; the suffering and cruelty he is about to endure. His priestly office will be rejected by the religious leaders, his kingship mocked by the Roman officials; he will know the humiliation of false accusation. For a brief moment in time Jesus tastes utter despair, and this is only the beginning of the cross that awaits him.
Sometime in these early morning hours of Friday, the fourteenth of Noon, he is arrested and taken into custody. By the time he is handed over to Pilate, the busiest and most important day of the year is already underway. It is the time for preparation, when the priests must slaughter the sacrificial animals for the evening meal. On this day, long ago, Israel was to prepare hastily for their departure from Egypt. Now, centuries later, thousands of animals need to be slaughtered to provide for the enormous crowds. In order to complete the work before twilight, the priests have begun a tradition of starting the sacrifices at noon. At exactly noon, just as the shadow on the sundial becomes a thin line, the priests begin the work. Ironically; it is just at this moment that, like the penultimate plague on Egypt, darkness covers the land. The shadow on the sundial vanishes. By now the true Passover Lamb is being sacrificed.
Jesus has been taken outside the gates of the holy city and crucified naked and facing away from the temple, having been proclaimed unclean. The Roman officials have displayed him, along with two other criminals, in utter shame before the great crowds, who go in and out of the city as he bears the horrors of history and the deepest anguish of the world.
The gospels say nothing about the three hours of darkness that engulf the land as Jesus suffers crucifixion.
At three o'clock, as the altar of the temple runs with blood, Jesus dies on the cross. Puzzled by the strange signs occurring around them, the priests work hard to finish the sacrifices by sunset. The first day of Unleavened Bread is about to begin. A few of Jesus' followers remain by the cross, gazing upon the disfigured body of the one who made humankind in his image.
Only later will they come to understand that in this cross humanity's image is restored. This image had united the spiritual and earthly realms—the breath of life inhabiting the dust of the earth. From the beginning, the human person was, in its very nature, a marriage of the heavenly and the earthly. But heaven and earth were violently torn apart by our first parents' sin. Stretched out upon the cross, between heaven and earth, Jesus has reconciled the two realms in his own torn body. 'This was the King of the Jews—not the king the disciples were expecting, but a humble and gracious king; one whom the disciples, and eventually the whole world, would come to embrace. It was in this cross that the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, with its deadly fruit, would become the Tree of Life, with healing for all nations.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
The Journey of Holy Week: Thursday
Mark 14:12-72
On this morning, Jesus instructs Peter and John to go into the city to a mysterious "upper room." They are to have the Passover meal prepared by sunset, at the very beginning of the fourteenth of Nisan, the day when it was customary to sacrifice the Passover lamb. Passover is to be a day of celebration, but for the disciples it seems more like a funeral than a celebration, the end of an era rather than the beginning of a new one.
At sunset, Jesus and the disciples enter the city and go to a large house, where they walk upstairs and come into a spacious upper room. They see Peter and John here, finishing the preparations. This upper room will be their new home.
It is in this room that the king who rode into Jerusalem on the back of a donkey gives the disciples a glimpse of the new kingdom that, despite their doubts, is already dawning. In an astonishing display of intimacy, the king washes their feet as an example of this new politic—a hierarchy of servants rather than masters. Perhaps using the holy water for this final cleansing, Jesus wipes the disciples' feet—filthy and blistered from nearly a week of constant walking—including the feet of a nervously impatient Judas, who has one last opportunity, as Jesus tenderly strokes his feet, to repent.
They are now ready to eat the Passover. The Passover meal Peter and John prepared earlier that afternoon consists of bitter herbs with flat, stale bread. It is forbidden in the Torah to use new flour until Sunday, the second day of Unleavened Bread, when the new barley harvest will begin and fresh unleavened bread will be baked. Normally tonight's meal would have taken place tomorrow evening, after the lambs have been sacrificed at the temple.
But in this atmosphere of distress, doubt, and fear, Jesus opens their eyes to a new understanding of Passover. He is now the Passover lamb, slain to free his people. The unleavened bread and the wine are now his flesh and blood. The firstborn of the Father is laying down his life so that the firstborn of Israel—and now of Egypt and the whole world—will live. During this last supper, the old covenant is subsumed and transformed, through Christ's body and blood, into a 'new covenant' in which animal sacrifice, with its regulations, is no longer needed. From now on, in the breaking of bread and the pouring of wine, every day will be Passover and Unleavened Bread, until the coming of his Father's kingdom.
This kingdom has a new mandate: Love. It is the oldest of commandments, eternally written in the human heart, but now transformed by its living embodiment. This is a love so deep that it will lay down its life for its friends. And now the eternal life of this new kingdom would be found not in financial or political security, but solely in knowing and loving God, as creatures made in his image, whose very nature and being is Truth and Love.
Since it is now two weeks after the new moon, a bright full moon shines overhead. As they leave the house, they pass along the vines that crawl up the southern wall of Jerusalem, which is lit by the moon's silvery glow. Jesus speaks to the disciples of peace in the midst of trouble, joy in the midst of grief, glory in the midst of shame, and victory in the midst of defeat—even as they are about to scatter and desert him. Now more than ever, they are confounded by his words. As the disciples near the Garden of Gethsemane at midnight, their heads aching with sorrow one of them is still missing.
On this morning, Jesus instructs Peter and John to go into the city to a mysterious "upper room." They are to have the Passover meal prepared by sunset, at the very beginning of the fourteenth of Nisan, the day when it was customary to sacrifice the Passover lamb. Passover is to be a day of celebration, but for the disciples it seems more like a funeral than a celebration, the end of an era rather than the beginning of a new one.
At sunset, Jesus and the disciples enter the city and go to a large house, where they walk upstairs and come into a spacious upper room. They see Peter and John here, finishing the preparations. This upper room will be their new home.
It is in this room that the king who rode into Jerusalem on the back of a donkey gives the disciples a glimpse of the new kingdom that, despite their doubts, is already dawning. In an astonishing display of intimacy, the king washes their feet as an example of this new politic—a hierarchy of servants rather than masters. Perhaps using the holy water for this final cleansing, Jesus wipes the disciples' feet—filthy and blistered from nearly a week of constant walking—including the feet of a nervously impatient Judas, who has one last opportunity, as Jesus tenderly strokes his feet, to repent.
They are now ready to eat the Passover. The Passover meal Peter and John prepared earlier that afternoon consists of bitter herbs with flat, stale bread. It is forbidden in the Torah to use new flour until Sunday, the second day of Unleavened Bread, when the new barley harvest will begin and fresh unleavened bread will be baked. Normally tonight's meal would have taken place tomorrow evening, after the lambs have been sacrificed at the temple.
But in this atmosphere of distress, doubt, and fear, Jesus opens their eyes to a new understanding of Passover. He is now the Passover lamb, slain to free his people. The unleavened bread and the wine are now his flesh and blood. The firstborn of the Father is laying down his life so that the firstborn of Israel—and now of Egypt and the whole world—will live. During this last supper, the old covenant is subsumed and transformed, through Christ's body and blood, into a 'new covenant' in which animal sacrifice, with its regulations, is no longer needed. From now on, in the breaking of bread and the pouring of wine, every day will be Passover and Unleavened Bread, until the coming of his Father's kingdom.
This kingdom has a new mandate: Love. It is the oldest of commandments, eternally written in the human heart, but now transformed by its living embodiment. This is a love so deep that it will lay down its life for its friends. And now the eternal life of this new kingdom would be found not in financial or political security, but solely in knowing and loving God, as creatures made in his image, whose very nature and being is Truth and Love.
Since it is now two weeks after the new moon, a bright full moon shines overhead. As they leave the house, they pass along the vines that crawl up the southern wall of Jerusalem, which is lit by the moon's silvery glow. Jesus speaks to the disciples of peace in the midst of trouble, joy in the midst of grief, glory in the midst of shame, and victory in the midst of defeat—even as they are about to scatter and desert him. Now more than ever, they are confounded by his words. As the disciples near the Garden of Gethsemane at midnight, their heads aching with sorrow one of them is still missing.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
The Journey of Holy Week: Wednesday
Mark 14:1-11
After Jesus' confrontation with the Pharisees and his apocalyptic sermon the previous day, Wednesday is a quiet day of rest for the disciples away from the noise and crowding of the city. It is the calm before the storm. They are back in the village of Bethany, staying there for the last time. During dinner, Mary comes to Jesus with a lavish and costly offering, a gift worthy of a king. Her sacrifice is both an act of devotion and a foreshadowing of the inestimable price Jesus is about to pay for the salvation of the world.
This night, the beginning of the thirteenth day of Ntsan, Judas betrays Jesus to the religious authorities and makes plans with them for his arrest—an arrest that will take place tomorrow night, the beginning of Passover.
After Jesus' confrontation with the Pharisees and his apocalyptic sermon the previous day, Wednesday is a quiet day of rest for the disciples away from the noise and crowding of the city. It is the calm before the storm. They are back in the village of Bethany, staying there for the last time. During dinner, Mary comes to Jesus with a lavish and costly offering, a gift worthy of a king. Her sacrifice is both an act of devotion and a foreshadowing of the inestimable price Jesus is about to pay for the salvation of the world.
This night, the beginning of the thirteenth day of Ntsan, Judas betrays Jesus to the religious authorities and makes plans with them for his arrest—an arrest that will take place tomorrow night, the beginning of Passover.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
The Journey of Holy Week: Tuesday
Mark 11:20-13:37
Today Jesus goes to the temple mount again to teach the crowds for the last time. Whereas yesterday's scene was pandemonium, today the temple courts are dead silent as many thousands listen and watch as the religious authorities challenge this notorious young rabbi who teaches in parables. His arguments with the religious leaders and experts of scripture delight some and infuriate others. Yesterday he was overturning the marketplace; today he seems to he overturning their entire world.
Jesus' fierce diatribe against the religious leaders, supremely confident they are on God's side, may have seemed startling to the disciples and to the crowds. But it is not a vindictive ferocity, rather the anger of a lioness protecting her cubs.
As evening approaches, Jesus leads the disciples to the Mount of Olives, where he speaks in words that are even more severe. While they watch the limestone walls of Jerusalem turn blood-red under the setting sun, Jesus reveals to them how the world will come to an end. For the disciples it seems like the world is already ending. His kingdom will not arrive in the way they have expected. They are no longer welcome in Jerusalem. They are outcasts now.
The Jewish days always begin at sunset. On this Tuesday evening, the twelfth day of Nisan begins, when the gospels tell us the Passover is just two days away. This night, some of the religious leaders make plans to arrest Jesus. It will have to be done before Saturday, the fifteenth day of Nisan, which is not only a Sabbath but the first solemn day of the seven-day festival of Unleavened Bread. They fear a riot will break out if he is arrested on the holiest Sabbath day of the year.
Today Jesus goes to the temple mount again to teach the crowds for the last time. Whereas yesterday's scene was pandemonium, today the temple courts are dead silent as many thousands listen and watch as the religious authorities challenge this notorious young rabbi who teaches in parables. His arguments with the religious leaders and experts of scripture delight some and infuriate others. Yesterday he was overturning the marketplace; today he seems to he overturning their entire world.
Jesus' fierce diatribe against the religious leaders, supremely confident they are on God's side, may have seemed startling to the disciples and to the crowds. But it is not a vindictive ferocity, rather the anger of a lioness protecting her cubs.
As evening approaches, Jesus leads the disciples to the Mount of Olives, where he speaks in words that are even more severe. While they watch the limestone walls of Jerusalem turn blood-red under the setting sun, Jesus reveals to them how the world will come to an end. For the disciples it seems like the world is already ending. His kingdom will not arrive in the way they have expected. They are no longer welcome in Jerusalem. They are outcasts now.
The Jewish days always begin at sunset. On this Tuesday evening, the twelfth day of Nisan begins, when the gospels tell us the Passover is just two days away. This night, some of the religious leaders make plans to arrest Jesus. It will have to be done before Saturday, the fifteenth day of Nisan, which is not only a Sabbath but the first solemn day of the seven-day festival of Unleavened Bread. They fear a riot will break out if he is arrested on the holiest Sabbath day of the year.
Monday, April 18, 2011
The Journey of Holy Week: Monday
Mark 11:12-19
It is the tenth day of Nisan, the day on which, long ago, Moses commanded the captive Israelites to procure a sacrificial lamb for each family. They were to keep it until the fourteenth day, when it would be slaughtered at sunset. During the intervening days the Israelites were to pack up and get ready for their flight from Egypt. Today is also one of the two days during the week of purification when festival-goers are to be cleansed with the holy water. The final water cleansing will occur Friday morning, just before the Passover lambs are to be slaughtered.
Jesus will perform his own kind of cleansing today. Many pilgrims have brought their Passover animals with them, while others will go into the city on this day of procurement to purchase them, one animal for every ten people. In the spacious temple courts there are those quick to capitalize on this need—some selling doves and sheep, others exchanging foreign currency for the pilgrims, and keeping a generous percentage.
This infuriates Jesus. What happens next is a chaotic scene: doves escaping to their freedom, coins flying everywhere as people scramble to pick them up—a scene that does not impress the temple authorities or the Roman officers assigned to keep the peace.
If the disciples thought Jesus had behaved strangely before, it is nothing compared to today's events. Their prophet seems to be losing his mind. In the past he had tried to hide the fact that he was in Jerusalem and often urged the people he healed not to tell anyone. Now he is healing out in the open, in full view of the crowds.
To the disciples, this recklessness is at once thrilling and unsettling. And yet, many are seeing for the first time; many are walking a path that hadn't existed until now.
It is the tenth day of Nisan, the day on which, long ago, Moses commanded the captive Israelites to procure a sacrificial lamb for each family. They were to keep it until the fourteenth day, when it would be slaughtered at sunset. During the intervening days the Israelites were to pack up and get ready for their flight from Egypt. Today is also one of the two days during the week of purification when festival-goers are to be cleansed with the holy water. The final water cleansing will occur Friday morning, just before the Passover lambs are to be slaughtered.
Jesus will perform his own kind of cleansing today. Many pilgrims have brought their Passover animals with them, while others will go into the city on this day of procurement to purchase them, one animal for every ten people. In the spacious temple courts there are those quick to capitalize on this need—some selling doves and sheep, others exchanging foreign currency for the pilgrims, and keeping a generous percentage.
This infuriates Jesus. What happens next is a chaotic scene: doves escaping to their freedom, coins flying everywhere as people scramble to pick them up—a scene that does not impress the temple authorities or the Roman officers assigned to keep the peace.
If the disciples thought Jesus had behaved strangely before, it is nothing compared to today's events. Their prophet seems to be losing his mind. In the past he had tried to hide the fact that he was in Jerusalem and often urged the people he healed not to tell anyone. Now he is healing out in the open, in full view of the crowds.
To the disciples, this recklessness is at once thrilling and unsettling. And yet, many are seeing for the first time; many are walking a path that hadn't existed until now.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
The Journey of Holy Week: Palm Sunday
Mark 11:1-11
It is Sunday morning, the ninth day of Nisan. Jesus and his disciples, along with thousands of other pilgrims and festival-goers, ascend to the top of the Mount of Olives, where they catch their first glimpse of Jerusalem. It is an awe-inspiring sight. Herod's temple, one of the largest manmade structures in the world, lies just before them. The temple mount, with its enormous platform, is almost a city unto itself. These temple courts, especially the vast open court of the Gentiles where Jesus would often teach, could hold many thousands of pilgrims. From the top of the Mount of Olives, Jesus will ride into Jerusalem on the back of a donkey. It will take him down past the Garden of Gethsemane, across the Kidron Valley, then up the slope of Mount Zion to the Golden Gate, the eastern entrance of the temple mount, where many expected the Messiah of Israel would enter.
It is a beautiful day. The subtle fragrance of desert flowers infuses the cool, and breeze on this bright morning. By the time Jesus begins his royal procession to the eastern gate, great crowds realize something momentous is happening. They bring their cloaks and they cut palm branches to pave his way—society and nature falling before the new king.
But for anyone expecting a typical royal procession, this would have seemed a strange sight. Riding on the back of a donkey seemed more like the entrance of a lowly shepherd than a mighty king destined to return Israel to the glory days of Solomon's empire. And despite all the excitement, Jerusalem's reception of Jesus is certainly not one of unanimous welcome. The festival crowd's reaction is tumultuous, expressing everything from joyful adoration to curiosity, doubt to outright hostility. But for many of his followers, it seems the tide is turning. These were miracle days, when anything seemed possible.
Jesus and his followers aren't the only ones arriving in Jerusalem that day. On the other side of the city, Pilate, the Roman prefect of Judea, is arriving from the west with a thunderous procession of horses, soldiers, and weapons. They are there to oversee the great festival and to discourage any form of political uprising. And they have the power to punish and kill anyone who disrupts the peace.
It is Sunday morning, the ninth day of Nisan. Jesus and his disciples, along with thousands of other pilgrims and festival-goers, ascend to the top of the Mount of Olives, where they catch their first glimpse of Jerusalem. It is an awe-inspiring sight. Herod's temple, one of the largest manmade structures in the world, lies just before them. The temple mount, with its enormous platform, is almost a city unto itself. These temple courts, especially the vast open court of the Gentiles where Jesus would often teach, could hold many thousands of pilgrims. From the top of the Mount of Olives, Jesus will ride into Jerusalem on the back of a donkey. It will take him down past the Garden of Gethsemane, across the Kidron Valley, then up the slope of Mount Zion to the Golden Gate, the eastern entrance of the temple mount, where many expected the Messiah of Israel would enter.
It is a beautiful day. The subtle fragrance of desert flowers infuses the cool, and breeze on this bright morning. By the time Jesus begins his royal procession to the eastern gate, great crowds realize something momentous is happening. They bring their cloaks and they cut palm branches to pave his way—society and nature falling before the new king.
But for anyone expecting a typical royal procession, this would have seemed a strange sight. Riding on the back of a donkey seemed more like the entrance of a lowly shepherd than a mighty king destined to return Israel to the glory days of Solomon's empire. And despite all the excitement, Jerusalem's reception of Jesus is certainly not one of unanimous welcome. The festival crowd's reaction is tumultuous, expressing everything from joyful adoration to curiosity, doubt to outright hostility. But for many of his followers, it seems the tide is turning. These were miracle days, when anything seemed possible.
Jesus and his followers aren't the only ones arriving in Jerusalem that day. On the other side of the city, Pilate, the Roman prefect of Judea, is arriving from the west with a thunderous procession of horses, soldiers, and weapons. They are there to oversee the great festival and to discourage any form of political uprising. And they have the power to punish and kill anyone who disrupts the peace.
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