Oh Holy Week
BY MARY ARCEMENT ALEXANDER
For most of my adult life, I did not put much thought into Holy Week. I of course knew its significance and made sure to attend both Palm Sunday and Holy Thursday services, but I rarely did anything special to honor the sacredness of Good Friday or Holy Saturday. I put most of the emphasis on Easter Sunday (which makes sense, right?). I falsely assumed that Easter was a part of Holy Week. In case you were thinking the same thing, it is not. Holy Week begins on Palm Sunday and ends on Holy Saturday. It was some time during my early forties when my thoughts and feelings about this one, incredibly holy and sacred week greatly shifted. I am unaware of any particular trigger, rather just a slow progression of the opening of my eyes and heart. For the purpose of this month’s article, I want to take you on a deeper dive into the last week of Jesus’ life. Let us begin with Palm Sunday.
The next day the large crowd that had come to the feast heard that Jesus was coming to Jerusalem. So they took branches of palm trees and went out to meet him, crying out, “Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord, even the King of Israel!” And Jesus found a small donkey, and he sat upon it. Jn. 12:12-14
Palm Sunday commemorates Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem, the city where His ultimate fate occurred. He willingly entered knowing the denial, betrayal and persecution He would soon encounter. As He rode in on the young donkey through the streets of Jerusalem, where palm branches laid on the ground beneath Him and people all around Him shouted out “Hosanna!” I wonder, what went through His mind? Was He anxious about the coming days? Did He have an aching heart? Did the sense of dread linger in the air around Him? Did He think, “Why am I dying for these sinners?” We all know while in the garden of Gethsemane, He asked for God to take this cup from Him but we also know He ultimately said, “Yet not as I will, but as you will.” While I do not believe Jesus wondered why He was dying for sinners, I do believe He had some anxiety about it. After all, He was fully human. As I type these words, I shudder to think of the immense heaviness on this fateful day for our Lord.
And he took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” And likewise the cup after they had eaten, saying, “This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood.” Luke 22:19-20
In the Catholic Church, the evening of Holy Thursday begins the Triduum, a single celebration marking the ending of the Lenten season. More importantly, it is the celebration of the last supper between Christ and His disciples. For Catholics, it is the most important supper of all times, for on this unforgettable night Jesus Christ instituted the Holy Eucharist. The magnitude of this single meal overwhelms me. To be at the table with Jesus, listening to Him say, “Take this and eat of it, for it is my body,” had to be equally powerful and confusing. I like to imagine the disciples were hanging on His every word.
Brothers and sisters, there will come a day when we will sit at the heavenly table with Jesus and hang on His every word.
And they will mock him and spit on him, and flog him and kill him. And after three days he will rise. Mark 10:34
There is a scene in The Passion of the Christ where His mother Mary is looking on as Jesus falls while carrying His Cross. As she watches with horror in her eyes as her beloved son is tortured, she flashes back to a time when Jesus was a little boy (probably three or four years old) running to her. As He ran, He stumbled and fell. Mary rushes to Him and like any loving mother, picks Him up and cradles Him in her arms. I love this particular scene for it shows both the depth of her love for her son as well as the humanness of Christ. Seeing Him as a little boy put it all into perspective for me. Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior who gave His life for our salvation had a childhood where he ran, played, and giggled. He was fully God and fully human. He experienced both divinity and difficulty. He played with friends, helped with chores, learned new things. He felt pain, joy, love, happiness, sadness, agony, hurt and so much more. On this day, this Good Friday, He died the most excruciating death. I imagine in that moment as Mary watched her son fall, it took all she had to not run to Him, pick Him up and cradle Him in her arms. The agony of watching your child suffer is an unimaginable sight. As the clock strikes 3:00pm Good Friday, remember not only our beloved Lord, but also our beloved Father in heaven who will pick you up and cradle you in His arms every time you fall. For God loves you so much, He gave His only Son.
Sabbatum Sanctum is the official liturgical name for Holy Saturday. Although many (myself included) do not typically spend this day in mourning, as Christians we should rethink our actions on this particular day. I do not believe we need to be sad all day crying while in bed unable to do anything, but I also do not believe we should be celebrating in any way. On this sacred day after Jesus’ excruciating death, his disciples, Mother Mary, Mary Magdalene and many more were broken hearted. They lost their teacher, friend, and most importantly, their beloved Son. Brothers and sisters, instead of doing what you normally do on Saturdays, I encourage spending time this upcoming Holy Saturday reflecting upon the enormity of what Christ did for you. See yourself sitting outside His tomb quietly saying, “Thank you Lord for dying for me.” Allow yourself to feel sadness while simultaneously anticipating the joy you will feel Easter Sunday when we will all exclaim, “He is risen!”
