Last night was breezy. Clouds were visible as they swept across a bright moon. I wondered if Jesus saw a similar sky as he stood in the olive garden that night, waiting for Judas to betray him. Maundy Thursday--the night Jesus gathered around the dinner table a final time, commanding his friends to love and serve each other. The night Jesus was arrested. The night our church was stripped of all the trappings of our faith.
Today offered another opportunity for the reflection of Holy week--it became increasingly cloudy as the afternoon wore on. I was reminded of the darkness that followed Jesus's death. Good Friday, we call it--which likely means "holy". At 4pm, I thought about those left behind that day--the family and friends who, while still in shock, removed Jesus's body and prepared it for burial.
And now we wait. In two days, we'll celebrate the risen Christ. It will be the simultaneous end and beginning of a great love, of God stepping down to walk among us, of God reuniting with his creation. Of a promise made long ago, and finally fulfilled.
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