Reflections on Holy Week & Easter


“The Last Supper Of Our Lord Jesus Christ” — illustration: The Holy Bible, 1938 edition

I was 30 years old when I first heard the expression “Maundy Thursday.” At first, it sounded like my co-worker was saying “Monday Thursday.”

I was well acquainted with Palm Sunday, the Last Supper, Good Friday and Easter, but terms like “Maundy Thursday,” “Holy Week” and “Christ’s Passion” were not part of the religious language used in the Brethren church where I grew up…or even in the Baptist churches I had been attending since college. (Nor had The Passion of the Christ movie hit the silver screen yet, at which time some of these expressions entered into the consciousness of mainstream culture.)

My co-worker took the time to explain the meaning behind some of these phrases, and I soon realized that we were speaking the same language—just using different terminology. What came out of that conversation was not so much the “labels,” but rather the spiritual hunger that is satisfied through reverencing and reflecting upon the week that we are now entering: a week that really happened and that is recorded for us in the Bible.

With that thoughtfulness and reverence in mind, I’d like to offer a high-level timeline of the last week of Christ’s life for reflection. This is by no means an exhaustive list of events and theological observations. God’s Word is inexhaustible and the account can best be read and studied there. Additionally, there are several fine resources that go into greater detail than my blog post will, and I provide links to a couple of these faithful and instructive resources at the end of my post.

…This life-giving, life-changing Holy Week journey of our Blessed Savior begins on:

Psalm Sunday
Palm Sunday (sometimes referred to as Passion Sunday) commemorates Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem five days before He was crucified.

Christ entered the city at the same time that Jews were making their pilgrimage to Jerusalem for the Passover festivities. This is significant because Jesus, the Lamb of God, was beginning His final journey to His preordained “altar of wood” as the Sacrifice for mankind.

Jesus was greeted by the loud praises of a large crowd waving palm branches in His honor and calling Him “Son of David”—their long-awaited Messiah and Heir to the throne of King David. Their words of praise were derived from the Psalms. Their shouts of Hosanna! were cries to “Save us!”[2]

All four Gospels record this event, (Matthew 21:1-11; Mark 11:1- 11; Luke 19:29-44; John 12:12-19), and it is the fulfillment of several Old Testament prophecies. For example, Zechariah 9:9 foretells that Jesus would arrive in Jerusalem on a donkey.

On Monday, Jesus cleansed the temple as prophesied in Malachi 3:1-5. (The previous day, He had inspected and observed the activities of the temple.)

Jesus saw that genuine worship had been disrupted and that the temple had turned from “a house of prayer for all the nations” to a “den of robbers” who were lining their pockets (Mark 11:17). Specifically, merchants were selling animals for the Passover sacrifices right in the outer court of the temple, and moneychangers were charging high exchange rates to travelers who needed to exchange their money for the local currency. Christ was outraged. His response set forth the proper attitude of worship for both then and now: He is the focus of our prayers and the focus of our service.

On Tuesday, Jesus returned to the temple and faced the religious authorities, namely the scribes and Pharisees who had been entrusted as stewards but were failing miserably in the sacred duties entrusted to them. They were more focused on outward appearance and laying heavy burdens of manmade rules on top of God’s good commandments as opposed to sincerely addressing that never-ending battle with sin that must be attacked with (and only with) the full teaching of God’s Word. Matthew 23 records the “seven woes” that Jesus pronounced against them. These woes stand in contrast to the blessings (or Beatitudes) that Jesus promised (during His earlier ministry) will be God’s gracious gifts to the truly repentant.

Later in the day on Tuesday, Jesus and his disciples ventured outside the city to the Mount of Olives, where Jesus delivered His Olivet Discourse concerning the end times. This discourse can be found most extensively in Matthew 24:1 – 25:46, but is also recorded in Mark 13:1-37 and Luke 21:5-36.

Scripture does not record what took place on this day, but I trust that it would not be adding to the biblical account to say that preparation was being made—both seen and unseen to human eyes—for what was to come. This day is sometimes referred to as Silent Wednesday.

Maundy Thursday
Maundy Thursday (also known as Holy Thursday) reflects upon the events in the Upper Room the night before Jesus died. These Upper Room events are described in Matthew 26:20-30, Mark 14:17-26, Luke 22:14-35, and John 13–17: namely, the eating of the Passover meal, the institution of the Lord’s Supper, some of Jesus’ last words, and His washing the feet of the disciples.

Maundy Thursday marks the last day of Lent (also referred to as the Lenten fast, or Lententide). Although there is some disagreement over the origins of the word “maundy,” most scholars agree that “maundy” is derived from the Latin “Mandatum novum,” which means “a new commandment,” and refers to Jesus’ words in John 13:34: A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. (ESV)

The Supper that Jesus shared with His disciples in the Upper Room began as the traditional Passover meal—which typically consisted of a sacrificed lamb, unleavened bread, bitter herbs with puree sauce, and wine—but by the end of the evening, Jesus had transformed this commemorative event into a “new meal”: the Lord’s Supper, a meal of forgiveness and salvation fulfilled in and fully offered to us through the breaking of His body (the bread) and the spilling of His blood (the wine). This celebration, which has been observed by Christians ever since, reminds us of His death on our behalf and points to the future hope of the marriage feast of the Lamb in Christ’s eternal kingdom of glory.

Most Maundy Thursday services emphasize (and celebrate) the Lord’s Supper—because it was on this night that Jesus instituted it. At the end of the service, the altar is often stripped in preparation for Good Friday. This symbolizes Christ being stripped by the Roman soldiers prior to His crucifixion. Some churches, going as far back as ancient times, also perform a foot washing ceremony in memory of Christ washing His disciples’ feet. [2] (A bit of denominational trivia: In the Grace Brethren church where I grew up, we washed one another’s feet during every Lord’s Supper, not just at Easter time.)

Good Friday
On this day, Jesus was arrested, tried repeatedly, crucified, and buried.

The events began in the wee hours of the morning. When all was said and done, Jesus was tried a total of six times (with a final appeal by the Jews, which some consider the seventh trial). His first trial was before Annas (John 18:12-14), and was followed by trials before Caiaphas the high priest (Matthew 26:57-68; Mark 14:53-65; Luke 22:54, 63-65; John 18:24), the Sanhedrin (Matthew 27:1; Mark 15:1; Luke 22:66-71), the Roman leader Pilate (Matthew 27:1-2, 11-14; Mark 15:1-5; Luke 23:1-7; John 18:28-32, 33-38), King Herod (Luke 23:6-12), and Pilate a second time (Matthew 27:15-23; Mark 15:6-14; Luke 23:13-22; John 18:39-19:6).

Pilate concluded that Jesus was innocent, but the Jews who were gathered in Jerusalem for the Passover demanded “Let him be crucified!” (Matthew 27:23; Mark 15:13-14) How quickly they turned from praising Jesus on Palm Sunday to condemning Him! This appeal by the Jewish people to kill Jesus was granted (and was ultimately a step closer to the fulfillment of a sovereign God’s plan of salvation for sinners). Jesus was sentenced to Roman crucifixion.

Jesus was reviled, rejected, and falsely accused. He endured mockery that included great physical and emotional pain. Despite His innocence of the charges made against Him, He was nailed to a cross in obedience to His Father’s will in order to pay the tremendous (and perfect) price for sin. Only Jesus, who is 100% God and 100% man, could have accomplished this! (John 3:16)

From noon to 3PM, there was darkness over the whole land, (Mark 15:33), a representation of sorrow and judgment. Jesus cried in agony as He was separated from His Father, bore our sins, and endured the total abandonment that we deserve (Matthew 27:45-56).

The Savior died. (In our place!) The curtain in the temple that separated the Most Holy Place from the Holy Place tore from top to bottom, signifying that there was now and forever open fellowship between God and man through Jesus Christ. The earth quaked and a Roman officer declared, “Truly this was the Son of God!” Then Jesus was placed in the tomb.

Since medieval times, some churches (including the one that I currently attend) hold a “Service of Shadows” on Good Friday to contemplate Christ’s suffering. As passages of Scripture are read and songs that portray His sacrifice on our behalf are sung, the lights increasingly dim to signify the death of Christ, who is the Light of the World. The service ends in silence and darkness, with worshippers returning on Easter morning to a lighted sanctuary and to joyful proclamations that “Christ is risen. He is risen indeed!”

Holy Saturday
Holy Week officially ends on the evening of Holy Saturday. Some churches hold a “Service of Light” Vigil to symbolize Jesus as the Light of the world. This celebration is in preparation for the predawn joy of Easter—a commemoration of the joy that the women visiting Jesus’ tomb experienced when they found the stone rolled away and the tomb of Christ empty.

Easter Sunday
Behold the tomb. Empty!
Behold the Lamb. Alive!
What of my sins? Forgiven!
Through His resurrection, I’m justified! [3]

Easter Sunday is a day of great celebration both for this present life and the life to come. Christ did not die in vain. His bones did not rot in the grave. On that first Easter morning, the stone was rolled away and the tomb was empty!

Without the resurrection, there would be no salvation. That Christ arose is essential to the Gospel! Christ completed His work: He reigns victorious over sin, death, and the devil.[4]

Hallelujah. Hallelujah!

I leave you with the words from Robert Lowry’s 1847 hymn entitled Low in the Grave He Lay. It’s my favorite Easter song.

Low in the grave He lay,
Jesus my Savior;
Waiting the coming day,
Jesus my Lord!

Up from the grave He arose,

With a mighty triumph o’er His foes,
He arose a Victor from the dark domain,
And He lives forever, with His saints to reign.
He arose! He arose!
 Hallelujah! Christ arose!

Vainly they watch His bed,
Jesus my Savior;
Vainly they seal the dead,
Jesus my Lord!


Death cannot keep its Prey,
Jesus my Savior;
He tore the bars away
Jesus my Lord!

Up from the grave He arose,
With a mighty triumph o’er His foes,
He arose a Victor from the dark domain,
And He lives forever, with His saints to reign.
He arose! He arose!
 Hallelujah! Christ arose!

[1] They were looking to “King Jesus” to set up a physical, mighty kingdom on earth right then as opposed to an eternal Kingdom for all nations and all generations.
[2] See John 13
[3] LLS, 2014
[4] See I Corinthians 15 regarding Christ’s resurrection, the eternal life of believers, and Christ’s victory over sin, death and the devil.

Helpful Resources:

The Year of the Rain Barrel Debacle

Spring planting season is upon us here in central North Carolina. Conceptually, I want to go whole hog—no doubt a throwback to my rural roots. In reality, I am hesitant—no doubt a throwback to “The Year of the Rain Barrel Debacle.”

It was about five years ago, and I had decided to grow edible stuff on the balcony of my townhouse. I planted ever-bearing strawberries, tomatoes, two varieties of peppers, and even some parsley and mint for good measure.

I sat back and waited for the rain to come. And waited. The soil became “dry as punk” (to use one of my mother’s quirky colloquialisms). I grew so desperate for rain that when it did fall, I ran from porch to patio positioning pots and pans at the downspouts and hoarding water for a dry day.

It soon occurred to me that a rain barrel was the answer to my gardening woes. After some research, I settled for a fifty-two gallon contraption—complete with a diverter system to prevent barrel overflow—wrestled it into (then back out of) my little SUV, and poured studiously over the installation instructions.

Uh-oh. I would need to cut the downspout and replace a five-inch piece with an adaptor that would ferry the water from the spout to the barrel. Technically, the downspout was not mine—it went right down the middle of where my house ended and the house to my left began. I would need to get permission from the neighboring property owner.

That neighbor also happened to be my older sister. After hearing my passionate pleas to help save the fruits and veggies from wilting on the vine, she conceded to what she referred to as my “dern hippie ways.” (That’s an exact quote right there).

The following Saturday, I rounded up my tape measure and hacksaw.

Was nine o’clock in the morning too early to hack through a downspout? I wondered.

rain-barrel-frontBy nine-o-five, I was ripe with impatience. Rationalizing that I would be quick about it, I began to saw with purpose. The sound of metal against metal cut through the peaceful morning air. Past the point of no return, I saw my task through to the ear-splitting end. (I was later informed that my sister’s princely pooch howled at the raucous ruckus, circled the living room, and did his business where he had no business doing it. …Um, oopsy?)

With the contraption in place and the spigot at the bottom of the barrel tested for functionality, I again waited for the rain to come. It did and my barrel filled quickly. But along with the water came the critters. Soon I had a thriving ecosystem outside my basement door. Mosquitoes swarmed around the closed lid of the rain barrel, and frogs from every stage of the life cycle—from eggs to tadpoles to full-grown hippity hoppers—took up residence within. No less revolting was the water itself, which became green and stagnant.

Did I really want to pour this on plants that I would later eat? I wasn’t so sure, so I chewed on the question at some length.

I was torn from my obsessive musings when the spigot began to leak. As I eyed the drip, I knew what I had to do: face the fungus head-on. Literally. (The barrel was too heavy to move, and the idea of emptying fifty-two gallons of water at my basement door seemed all wet.) So I got a ladder, removed the lid, and bent headfirst into the mire.

As I leaned further in, searching for the spigot that needed tightening, I heard a drawling voice say, “Looks like you’ve got yourself quite a predicament there.”

I bolted upright as though poked with a cattle prod. Peg, the unofficial neighborhood watchman, was watching me with a hint of amusement in his eyes.

I tried to appear casual and breezy despite what I could only assume was a disheveled appearance. We spoke inanely for a bit, then Peg returned to his house and settled into a patio chair to watch the gold finches flit around his feeders.

With renewed determination, I threw myself into my murky task and managed to tighten the spigot. I put the lid back on the rain barrel, went into the house, and proceeded to expend ten times the water my rain barrel could hold by washing my slimy clothes and taking a cleansing shower.

For Sale: One Rain Barrel. Lightly used. $1, or best offer. Serious inquiries only.

Representative bounty from “The Year of the Rain Barrel Debacle”

To Better Homemaking

“Cooking means the knowledge of all herbs, and fruits and spices, and of all that is healing and sweet in the fields and groves, and savory in meats; it means carefulness and inventiveness and watchfulness and willingness, and readiness of appliance; it means the economy of your great-grandmothers, and the science of modern chemists; it means much testing and no wasting; it means English thoroughness and French art and Arabian hospitality; and it means, in fine, that you are to be perfectly and always ‘Ladies—loafgivers’.” [1]

Such is the opening address in the Granddaughter’s Inglenook Cookbook.

The very first Inglenook Cookbook was published in 1901, complete with 1000 recipes from women associated with the Church of the Brethren. Two generations later, “granddaughters” of the original contributors submitted over 5000 recipes from which the Granddaughter’s Inglenook Cookbook was born.

When my mother graduated from high school, her grandfather gave her the Granddaughter’s Inglenook Cookbook. When I was growing up, many of our meals were based on recipes from it. (I say “based on” because my mother is one of those creative cooks who views recipes as mere guidelines and likes to add her own pinch of this and dash of that—with excellent results!)

A few years ago, I purchased a 1973 edition on eBay. (You can find practically everything there!) The 1973 edition was modified to “serve new generations with recipes that are still current and choice.” [2] … Chicken potpie … Scalloped Potatoes … Creole eggplant … Applesauce Doughnuts … Black Walnut Taffy….

Granddaughter’s Inglenook Cookbook, 1973 edition: Herein lie the secrets to the daily routine of managing home with thought and ingenuity.

Much like the dictionary and encyclopedia, I enjoy simply opening the cookbook and reading—it’s a quaint and delightful adventure of gastronomic proportions topped only by actually making the recipes described.

As the introduction to the cookbook exhorts, here’s “to better homemaking”!

[1] Quote by Ruskin, Granddaughter’s Inglenook Cookbook. The Brethren Press, Elgin, Illinois; 1973, 5.
[2] Ibid.

The Tackle Box

I was spring cleaning and came across an old tackle box. The sight of it carried me back to my college days.


Simply put, I had no interest in going to college. It was, however, the best alternative for me. So to college I went.

As a quiet person, I found campus life difficult. In the span of two and a half years, I attended three colleges. The (fourth) college that I finally settled into and enjoyed was across the Potomac River from where I grew up, so I commuted the twenty-some minutes from home the last year and a half of my four-year college experience.

During that time, my Dad sometimes took me trapping or fishing. Neither Dad nor I are big on talking, so the companionable silence mingled with occasional words of instruction suited us both.

I remember the day that Dad got out his old tackle box. I watched as he filled it with necessities like fishing line, hooks, bobbers, sinkers, pliers, and lure. Then he handed me the tackle box and told me that it was mine.