Wednesday

Today is a beautiful day outside. Sunshine, fairly warm temperatures (for this time of the year in Indiana, especially), with a bit of wind. It doesn't seem the right kind of day to be in the middle of Holy Week. As we get closer and closer to Good Friday, my spirit wants the outside world to match the mood of the week. We're about to remember Jesus' crucifixion. What right does the world have to be bright and sunny?

And yet that's the way, I imagine, the world was even on that first Holy Week. Wednesday is the day when there really isn't much that happens. There isn't a record of Jesus going into Jerusalem this day (he was staying in Bethany, from our best guesses). He seems to have taught all he is going to teach. Everything he wanted to say, at least publicly, has been said. The disciples don't even seem to remember or record anything he taught on this day. What, do you suppose, he was up to?

Knowing that the next night would be his final meal with his disciples, I have for a long time imagined Jesus spent the day with his friends. He knew it would be the last time, really, he would be free (until, of course, the resurrection). They didn't know, but he did. I wonder if anyone noticed the sadness in his eyes, even as they told stories, ate together and swapped jokes? Did anyone suspect this was the last time they would see Jesus?

They knew, of course, of the plots against his life. They knew the religious leaders wanted to do away with him. That was nothing new, and Jesus had successfully evaded their traps before. They had no reason to suspect he wouldn't do so again. What they didn't know was really the key piece: he didn't want to avoid their traps this time. He was intent on willingly giving himself over to their designs. He was allowing himself to be killed. (He as much as told Pilate that exact thing in John 19:11.) He was giving himself up so that we could all be saved and given hope.

Did he want to tell them, on this day, "No matter what happens next, just remember: the worst thing is never the last thing"? Did he, in some way, let them know he was doing all he was doing for their sake (and for ours)? We don't know what he said or did on this day, but we do know that, still, on this Wednesday, the metaphorical clouds were gathering. Plans were in motion, and soon Jesus would be arrested, tried and murdered.

And that's why I want the day to reflect the mood of this week. I know that's unrealistic. The world goes on. It did then, too. Very few probably took notice of this rabbi from Nazareth as he went from place to place in Bethany on this Wednesday. They were used to seeing him around. He alone knew what was ahead. And still he moved forward, because he loved us too much to turn back now.