Maundy Thursday

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The Thursday of Holy Week is really important.

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I was just thinking some more about this weekend. Thursday. What would it have felt like? The disciples did not know; even as Christ spoke they did not understand what He said. Jason Upton sings a song called Teach Me How To Pray with a line that's been running through my head all day, "Am I sleeping while the Savior is dying, oh teach me how to pray" Only at the betrayal could they realize what Jesus was about to do - to die.  But they couldn't know He would raise from the dead, or what His death would mean. Only Jesus knew. What would it be like to be sitting among your students, your friends, and know you were about to die for them and for those to come? What would it be like to know you were about to accomplish the greatest work in all of human history: forgiveness of sins and eternal life?  And what did the Father the feel, knowing that He had to forsake His Son in order to show His love for the world? Tearing up as I'm typing this. What emotions, what power, what glory, what truth, what beauty, what awe!

Then I moved to Friday. I love the book 6 Hours One Friday by Max Lucado. It talks about what was accomplished as Jesus hung on that cross. Further, the passion story in Luke is so grand; it highlights the darkness and the agony:

 It was now about the sixth hour, and there was darkness over the whole land until the ninth hour, while the sun's light failed. And the curtain of the temple was torn in two. Then Jesus, calling out with a loud voice, said, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit!” And having said this he breathed his last. 
Luke 23:44-49


Now what? Your Lord and Master just died. How confusing, and sad. I imagine God the Father being excited for what He was about to do. I wonder if He whispered to their hearts, "Wait and see". 


Saturday. Waiting. Confusion. Agony. I wonder if anyone fell back on the promises of Jeremiah 29, if they recalled the Lord's faithfulness in bringing them out of slavery. Did they look at the Psalm 22? Isaiah 53? Did they find reason to have hope? 


And resurrection Sunday. Would you believe it? Did Jesus know how everyone would react? Did anyone rejoice in the knowledge that Christ had conquered the grave without questioning it? What would you have felt? Would I have been devoted enough to Jesus to believe He could do that, that His promise of eternal life was real? 


And then there's the fact that I'm thinking about this all here. It deepens the meaning, though it also increases my urgency and burden for people to know the Lord. I am surrounded by people who have not responded to Christ's invitation, or have rejected it outright. While I can rejoice in my own salvation, and am beyond thankful, I cannot afford to privatize it. I cannot be content to know that I have found life when my neighbor has not. But it is in understanding this gift for my own self that I can grasp its significance for the world. 


If anyone reads all my posts all the way through, I salute you. I can't believe how rambly I get sometimes. At the very least, you have a small picture of what it's like to live in my head.