It happens every year. I can’t get through Holy Week without crying. My mourning clutches my chest.
As a church secretary, typing out the Passion Narrative chokes me up.
Maundy Thursday when the congregation goes quiet, the nave darkens, and the priests strip the altar of all adornment, then wash the bare wood, symbolizing the preparing for Christ’s death and burial, the teardrops cascade down my cheeks and my throat closes. When the tabernacle is left wide open and the body and blood of the reserved sacrament is not present…yet, my lips quiver.
I hear my Lord whisper, “Will you not stay awake one hour?”I see His agony in the garden as He accepts the Father’s will. I feel His heart break when Judas kisses him,when Peter denies Him, and the crowds yell to crucify Him. I hear his lasts gasps of breath on the cross asking God to forgive me. The idea unnerves me and humbles me. He did it all for me. He did it all for you, too.
You can read about the gruesomeness of his torturous death. You can see the films about it. But at one moment during Holy Week, I hope you go beyond viewing to feeling it in your soul. I hope you remember the old spiritual, “Were You There?” and answer as I do.
Through shimmering eyes I gulp my response – “Yes, every year.”
I’ve read the book, and I know how the story ends. But the point is, it never does. Jesus died for those that day watching at Calvary. He also died for me, for you and for the generations to come. His sacrifice is eternal.
Were you there? Are you there? Your Savior loves you enough to be there, hanging in torture. He will continue to love you enough to go into Hell, defeat death and rise again in glory before ascending into Heaven and preparing a place for you.. One day, He will love you enough to return and bring you home.
Have a blessed Good Friday, Holy Saturday and Resurrection Sunday…every year until Our Lord comes again. Maranatha.