🌑 Holy Week: The Ache for Resurrection
Year of Breath: From Palm Sunday to Good Friday
In our digital world, which often leaves us feeling disconnected and discontent, Holy Week beckons us to a truer reality.
One of bread and wine, bone and blood, tears and sweat.
I want to sweep away my fragility and frailty so intensely that I don’t even realize when I retreat to screens so I don’t have to think about my physical, emotional, spiritual, mental, and relational aches.
In the tangled arms of unfettered technology, I ignore my limitations and call it liberation.
Today is Palm Sunday, and though this holy day is often wrapped in triumph and celebration (the kids do look cute with their palm fronds, don’t they?), that story ends with Jesus looking over the city He loved and weeping.
This Week, We Journey Through the Darkest Days
I hope my words below invite you into contemplation this week.
We see friends gathering at the table, candles lit and wine poured.
We watch him break bread and we’re so transfixed we don’t see the crumbs covering the floor.
"Keep loving each other,” we hear him say.
We can almost hear the stories told, the rehashing of memories, the laughter, the tears.
And then the silence.
We watch the betrayal.
We feel the smooth coins in our hands and hold the weight of our want.
We hear the shouts in voices like our own.
We turn our eyes from the brutal acts of violence.
We smell the sweat. The flesh. The blood.
We hear a prayer of desperation.
We feel the ground shake.
We hold our breath.
He takes his last.
For When We Want to Paper Over Pain
I want to fix things when my kids are hurt. I’m eager to offer Band-Aids for skinned knees. I’m always ready to provide ice packs for injuries and happy to kiss any unseen boo-boos.
But I have to resist the urge to paper over my kids’ emotional pain.
I have to resist the urge provide spiritual bandages for life's hurts.
I know that trying to fix wounds without giving them space to breathe — and to heal eventually — bypasses the genuine struggles of what it is to be human in this hurting world.
On Good Friday, Christians around the world sit with the darkest day of the year, remembering selfless, sacrificial love that led to the torture and crucifixion of Jesus.
It’s a somber, solemn day. I don’t have to tell you that there is so much pain, suffering, injustice, and evil in our world. We see it in the headlines. We feel it in our bones.
I sometimes resist sharing this part of the Christian life with my children. I want to shield them from violence. I want to protect them from suffering. But we can not fully enter the celebration of Christ’s resurrection if we do not also reflect on his death at the hands of people in power who felt threatened by Jesus.
As dark as this memory is, it also reminds us of the depth of God’s mercy and grace. The Light of the World showed us a better way in his ministry and death.
He showed us that we are not without hope — even when we struggle with grief, and our prayers are short.
Today, what would it look like for you to avoid papering over your pain?
What might it look like to invite God into the suffering that you are holding?
Consider setting aside five minutes to come to the One who loves you with the deepest kind of love.
Share your honest laments and darkest struggles.
Remember that you are loved by Jesus, who understands what it is to be human and cry out in lament.
Borrow this Family Prayer
Songs for Holy Week
For Palm Sunday
Below are some excerpts from “A Prayer for Palm Sunday” from To Light Their Way. You can find the whole prayer on page 151.
This Week
It felt right to make the above Holy Week reflections and playlist accessible to all subscribers this week. Thank you for being here. There’s still so much more below for Year of Breath subscribers for Holy Week.
In case you missed it, below is a Holy Week reading plan with prayers & dates.
Like every week, our Year of Breath private community below features intentional breath prayers, Scripture, reflection prompts, and a phone wallpaper/lockscreen.
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