Holy Week

Ever since I first started practicing Lent, this week has always weighed heavy on me. The week that begins with cries of "Hosanna!" and ends with cries of "Crucify him!"

I find myself wanting to skip to Easter instead of moving through the pain and betrayal that I know is coming. The pain and betrayal that I know I'm complicit in.

There are those who make so much of the crucifixion that they forget about the joy of resurrection. They make God out to be a sadist and Jesus a suicidal masochist.

But there are others who want to skip to Easter. Who promise that a life lived in obedience to God is one lived free of pain and suffering. But Christ promises a cross for all those who follow. Not because He's a sadist, but because this world punishes goodness and honesty and justice and mercy and humility and holiness.

So we take this week as it comes. We sit at the supper filled with confusion and grace. We sit in the garden filled with distress and faithfulness. We sit at the cross of suffering and sacrifice. And we remember. And we wait.