Holy Week

So, this is Holy Week.



We celebrated Palm Sunday at Church, and danced around the pews with palm branches waving in the air. For those who don't know, this tradition mimics Jesus' triumphant entry into Jerusalem about a week before he was crucified. The citizens of that city waved palm branches as they welcomed this Miracle worker into their city. While reading the New Testament passages about this event, it's almost unfathomable that less than a week later these same people would be yelling, "CRUCIFY HIM!"

How do you go from one day of adoration for someone, to the next wanting them dead?

That may seem incredulous to most of us initially, but if you were to put it into perspective, we can all relate.

We have all experienced rage and anger in our hearts towards others. Sometimes we feel justified -- "He betrayed me, I will never forgive him." Or, "That other child hurt my son/brother/nephew, they should be punished."

Sometimes it goes beyond tangible reasons, and we are consumed by anger and thoughts of revenge.

I can remember watching 'The Passion of Christ' movie when it first came out. I went to the theaters with my husband and some friends. There were so many scenes that moved me to tears.

Watching the story play out made the whole sacrifice seem so much more than words on a page. It brought the cruelty and suffering to life, and the reality of what Christ had done for me so much more valuable.

I can remember at one point feeling my blood begin to boil as I watched the hatred the citizens had for Jesus displayed. I kept thinking, "Don't you realize who He is??? He's not even fighting back, why would you want Him dead? If only you knew what I know today!"

And do you know what Christ did for me in that moment? He showed me where I would have been placed if I were present at that time. I wasn't one who stood up and defended Him. I wasn't one who wept at His feet.

No, I was one of the very people who kept yelling, "Crucify Him, Crucify Him!"

Those holes in His hands? I put those there with every sin I committed against God. It was for my sin that He died. It was for my salvation that He endured each wound. I am no better than the guards who fought over His robes and who didn't see the light until after Christ had died.

I was humbled. All these years of allowing my anger towards those whom I believed killed Christ ended the moment I realized I was one of them. And even being one of them, Jesus still died for me.

It was in that moment that my passion for living my life for Christ was reignited once again.