Holy Week or Hallmark
Truth be told I am a Hallmark girl all the way. I'm perfectly satisfied knowing in the first two minutes that the girl is going to get the nice guy. Conflict, hatefulness, lies, deceit or caddy conspiring women do not bring me joy. In the same frame the remembrance of Holy Week makes me want to turn away from the story. Let's just go from palm branches to the resurrection.
As our pastor was describing the crucifixion yesterday, I leaned to my post surgery husband, who was watching online at home with me and said, "I think I'll go take a shower and come back for the happy part."
I'm reading a compilation of Holy Week devotionals by various authors that really make you think. Below is the link for the whole week, but I will share some highlights.
https://document.desiringgod.org/your-sorrow-will-turn-to-joy-en.pdf?ts=1457392245
Monday
The sun rises just before 6:30 a.m. in Bethany, the small village on the southeastern slope of the Mount of Olives, just a mile and a half east of Jerusalem. It is Monday morning, March 30, a.d. 33. Jesus of Nazareth is staying in the humble home of his friends Martha (whose anxiety-driven hospitality had received his gentle rebuke), Mary (who chose the good portion), and Lazarus (whose body would still be in the grave apart from the wonder-working of the Christ).
Just the day before—the first day of the last week of his life—Jesus had made his Triumphal Entry into the Holy City, riding on a donkey over a royal “red carpet” of palm branches and cloaks, hailed by his disciples and the Gali- lean pilgrims as the messianic king.
But Monday would be different than Sunday. Jesus knew the heart of man (John 2:24–25). He knew the acclaim of the disciples and the crowd was built on a messiah of their own imagination. Despite his many efforts at teaching them otherwise, they couldn’t shake their wrong expectations. They were excited about a national savior who would overthrow the despised Romans once and for all. They had no categories for the idea that victory would come through experiencing, rather than inflicting, wrath and degrading shame.
Do our relational investments and our corporate gatherings reflect, even in a small way, the heart of a God who gathers the outcasts?
This question is no more relevant than on Easter, when our churches try especially to look their finest. When we assemble for worship this weekend, no one will set up tables to exchange currency. No one will lead in their oxen in hopes of getting rich. No one will tote a cage of high-priced pigeons. But our decorations may be elaborate. Our attire may be elegant. Our music may be world- class. We may put exuberant energy into these things, and make it an impressive spectacle. But if Jesus were to come, if he were to step into our churches this Sunday, he’d be
looking for the rabble. Where are the misfits, the socially marginalized, the outcasts?
There is plenty of life in the veins of Easter to propel us beyond our comforts, our cliques, and our Sunday best, and send us powerfully out in the pursuit of the least.
Did it make you think?
Our church has invitations to be handed out to whomever for Easter Sunday. Will I head off "looking for the rabble...in pursuit of the least?" Guess I will now.
The Song "Come to the Table" by Sidewalk Prophets
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DXXxLwxfo0U
