Passion week

Holy Week Thoughts–Maundy Thursday

March 20, 2008 By heather 4 Comments

This is My Body, broken for you.

This is My Blood, spilled for you.

You walk back to your seat and kneel first for a bit. In the loft above, the pianist and organist play. A voice joins in.

Down the Via Dolorosa in Jerusalem that day.

The priests, deacons, and chalice-bearers have changed into their black robes. They strip the communion table, the elements, the cross, the candle.

It is finished.

You close your eyes and see a ballerina. She wears a black leotard with a long, flowing white skirt. Her toes point, and she dances, her pale arms reaching, her leg stretching. A tear slips down your cheek. Still she dances.

Down the Via Dolorosa called the way of suffering.

After the song, the priest reads Psalm 22.

My strength drains away like water;all my bones are dislocated; my heart is like wax; it melts away inside me.

The choir sings How Great Thou Art, then in silence you leave. The only sounds are the click-clack of heels on the pavement. Cars start and pull away, their wheels crunching on the gravel.

Still, you don’t talk.

You turn on your car, and the music starts. Jamie Cullum. It feels wrong, this sound, but you don’t turn it off.

In your car on your way home, it occurs to you where Jesus was headed 2000 years ago tonight. You don’t mind that the light is red.

Eventually your toe begins to tap. You remember that you have to work on a project for work, and you think, only three more days until Easter. Three more days until you can have ice cream again.

You wonder which flavor to buy first.

But that isn’t until Sunday. It’s Thursday, and there’s still Good Friday.

This is the Dark Night of the Soul.

Filed Under: crucifixion, Holy Week, Maundy Thursday, Passion week

Holy Week Thoughts–Sour Wine

March 18, 2008 By heather Leave a Comment

One of the things I’ve come to learn about John’s Gospel is its rich literariness–the metaphors and images John employs throughout his writing.

Such as wine.

Here’s how he ends the pericope about Jesus’ death:

After this Jesus, realizing that by this time everything was completed, said (in order to fulfill the scripture), “I am thirsty!”A jar full of sour wine was there, so they put a sponge soaked in sour wine on a branch of hyssop and lifted it to his mouth. When he had received the sour wine, Jesus said, “It is completed!” Then he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.

In John, Jesus introduced himself as Messiah by turning water into wine at a wedding. This was no mistake. In the Old Testament, wine is used as a symbol of the Messianic kingdom. Wine will be found in abundance at the time of the deliverer: "The Lord who commands armies will hold a banquet for all the nations on this mountain. At this banquet there will be plenty of meat and aged wine – tender meat and choicest wine" (Isaiah 25:6) and "But those who harvest the grain will eat it, and will praise the Lord. Those who pick the grapes will drink the wine in the courts of my holy sanctuary" (Isaiah 62:9).

And now this man, the living water, the Creator who has the power to turn water into wine, thirsts. He thirsts because He has been abandoned by God. My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?…My tongue cleaves to the roof of my mouth, and God lays him in the dust of death (Psalm 22:1, 15). His thirst fulfilled scripture as the deliverer became the slave.

And they gave him sour wine, the drink reserved for slaves and soldiers.

Note: some translations call it "vinegar." Wine, as it sours, becomes vinegar. This was a cheap vinegar or sour wine given to slaves and soldiers. It was probably there for the soldiers.

Filed Under: ancient stories, bible stories, Holy Week, Passion week, wine

Holy Week Thoughts–Passover Seder

March 17, 2008 By heather 7 Comments

Saturday night, Chris and I went to a Passover Seder dinner. I highly recommend going to one if you ever have a chance. The correlations between Jesus’ sacrifice and the elements of the dinner amazed me, and although I knew most of them intellectually, participating in them physically and tangibly made them more real for me. It highlighted their significance.

Two things in particular struck me.

One is during the story-telling, when they got to the part of the 10 plagues, they took a moment to remember the Egyptians, their enemies. During the dinner, four glasses of wine are consumed. Each has a meaning. Before drinking the second cup of wine, the cup of deliverance, the leader says, "We believe that all people are God’s children, even our enemies. A full cup of wine symbolizes complete joy. We show our sorrow over the losses of the Egyptians by taking out a drop of wine, or joy, for each plague that was suffered." He then dips his finger in the glass 10 times, each time, dropping a bit of wine from the glass onto a plate.

But these were the losses of a people who enslaved you! beat you! demanded impossible tasks! pursued you! even killed you!

And I wonder, how many times do I mourn for my enemies? I’m not just talking about praying for them, but truly mourning for them, for the boys who lost their lives driving the planes into the towers, for their famiies, for the people who have personally hurt me or cheated me. Do I believe that their downfall is a cause for a loss of joy? Do I see it from God’s perspective, that though He hurts over the pain they’ve caused, He mourns because they too are His creation?

The second thing that struck me was the process itself. It was story-telling that consumed every aspect of the physical and spiritual moment. It used words, but it also used food and drink, seating positions, games. It became part of me and affected everything I did and said. At the same time, it’s not formal in that it’s done in a relaxed setting with close friends and family. You don’t put aside laughter and wear your serious faces. It’s all intertwined. And at the end, all say together, "Our Seder is now complete. We have fulfilled the requirements and made the ancient story of deliverance our own. May the day come soon when all mankind will live in harmony under Your rule Amen." I love this. I love that we become part of the ancient story. It’s not some distant idea, it’s my identity. And it’s my future. It looks back, and it looks ahead at the same time.

And that’s who I am as a part of God’s story–I’m part of this ancient past, and I’m part of this glorious, transformational future, and everything I do in my present reflects and contributes to both.

Filed Under: ancient stories, Holy Week, Passion week, Passover