I rejoiced to come into the house of the Lord last night. I rejoiced to lay down my burden and breathe in a deep sigh of relief. I emptied myself to be filled, and as I closed my eyes, I entered His Presence and God began to paint a beautiful illustration of Holy Week in my mind.
He took my hand and lead me through my Thursday. I laid like the beloved disciple with my head upon his breast. Then, he invited me to his table. He promised me his body and his blood. He walked me through my denial. He didn’t leave me in my betrayal. He reminded me of my struggle and the reality of my helplessness.
I followed him to Friday. I watched him wear my shame on a cross. I watched him love me. I watched him suffer for me. I watched him bear the full penalty of my sin: separation from the Father. I heard him cry out “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” But, I know now that it was because he asked this question that he can say to me, “I will never leave you or forsake you.”
For only a moment, we sat in Saturday. And then, he took my hand and he led me to Sunday. He led me to a an empty tomb. At first, I fall to my knees and clutch the burial cloths of my Lord. But I rise when I remember the words of the angel to the women who came before me, “Fear not, for I know you seek Jesus who was crucified. He is not here! For he has risen just as he said.”
I dance out of the tomb singing and shouting with boldness and authority, for the same power that raised Christ from the dead is alive in me.
This Holy Week, don’t forget about the beauty and shame of Thursday, or the ugliness of Friday. Rather, let their wretchedness bring you to the the desperation and anticipation of Saturday that is ultimately and completely satisfied by the power of Sunday.