Today marks the beginning of Passion Week: the seven days from Jesus’ entry to Jerusalem to his death and resurrection.
These are arguably the highest and holiest days for the Christian faith and yet for many years I didn’t do anything drastically different to reflect on the utter glory of all that went down during those 7 days in Jerusalem. I wasn’t raised with the tradition of observing Lent – that’s a Catholic thing. And other than singing “Hosanna in the highest” and waving a palm frond as a kid, I never really did much for Passion Week. Sometimes, in an attempt to throw off the formalities of old religion, I think we end up losing the meaningful rituals that remind us of who we really are.
Recently, I have had a growing desire to revive liturgical practices of my Christian faith in a way that honors God and brings me into a meaningful encounter with him.
Ann Voskamp has been a valuable resource for me in this quest. A few years ago, I picked up her Advent devotional The Greatest Gift. I read it now every year and plan to start the tradition of a Jesse Tree for my family as a way of observing Advent together.
For Lent, I am working through her Lent to Repent 40-day plan, which has facilitated a meaningful daily encounter with the Bible and prayer leading up to Easter.
On Friday I'm hosting a Good Friday Shabbat dinner at my home. I will serve lamb with bread and wine and remember Jesus' body broken and blood shed.
And this week, I’m planning to spend time reading the accounts in all the Gospels of the events of Passion Week. I want to spend time understanding what Jesus did and said the week prior to his crucifixion. I imagine for someone who knows he is going to die there is significant meaning and intensity to his words and his actions.
Here’s a thought I’ve been pondering already thanks to what was shared at church today. The term “Triumphal Entry” is a little misleading. It conjures up images of a victorious, kingly looking Jesus making his was into the city, perhaps a bit like the parade scene in the movie Aladdin.
But Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a donkey. And not even a full-grown donkey. He rode in on a colt that had never been ridden before, according to Luke 19:30. I was at the zoo with my kids this past Thursday and there was a little donkey in the petting zoo. Imagining a full-grown man riding on one of those things is quite hilarious and that’s probably how Jesus looked.
As I reflect on this image of my servant King riding a baby Donkey into Jerusalem, I am overcome with his humility. What a humble king I serve! And yet in many ways it is his humility that makes his power and authority so utterly Divine, so pure, so set apart from any other prophet that had come before him.
Out of my heart bursts this prayer:
Jesus.
Selah.
What a man you are. How much I still have to learn from you.
Let me read the accounts of your Passion Week with new eyes to see what you were really up to.
Let me leave behind my traditional interpretations of the accounts of your death and resurrection so you can speak to me new and fresh from your gospels.
Jesus.
Humble King.
Thank you for picking up your Passion for me.