Holy Week Takes Me To My Knees

It was in a small church in Jesssamine County, Ky that I found Jesus. That was in 2001. Up until then, and we are talking 50 years or so, the entire show had been just that. A show. Interesting, wonderful stories. Perfect for children. Loads of action. Sweet ones, dour ones. But somewhere along the line, my spiritual maturity became stunted (or stopped) and, honestly, all of the stories read like Dick and Jane. See Dick Go. See Jesus make wine. See Jane go. See Mary cry. Nothing got past the outer layer of the skin of me.
Until I walked into that small white church on top of a rise in Jessamine County during Holy Week. They'd set up a little garden inside to represent Gethsemane. A fountain gurgled, there was greenery, I could smell flowers. It was quiet. It was very quiet. I stood alone surrounded by this pretend garden and... went to my knees as Jesus soaked through the pours of my skin and into my marrow. The picture in the picture books because flesh. Words became flesh.
And that meant all this suffering became suffering. I was crushed with pain and sorrow - loss and bewilderment. Frightened to have lost this great man! Oh God, Oh God, WHY? Why have you taken him from me. Jesus, oh WHY did you have to suffer so? Oh my God, he was so afraid!
That was the first time I "sat up with Jesus." Every night after Maunday Thursday, since - I sit up with Jesus. By golly, the disciples were a disappointment that night, and I am most of the time, but for that night, I can not fall asleep and be with him during this hour of suffering.
But what does this all really mean? Hallucination? Creative imagination? Time warp? I don't think it matters. At least it doesn't matter to me. I will BE there. No matter where I am, Jesus, I will BE there with you. You are not alone.
I look at Jesus on that Cross... bloody, his arms stretched too long as they dislocated, his skin with pallor, his chest caved in.
NO! No, this is not some sacrificial lamb that's been roasted for God to smell on High! How demeaning to this most glorious message this man gave us with the ultimate demonstration of his message! NO! No, he was NOT like the goat that was given all the sins each year and then sent out into the desert so we could go on about our business, cleansed again. How cheap is that? Can you really bring yourself to feel this man's life and his death and sum it up to being a sacrificial lamb or goat?
Instead, I see the ultimate message from the most loving man I've ever known.
He tried to speak in parables - people didn't catch it, not even his disciples most of the time. Miracles were not enough! Foot washing was taken the wrong way! Up to the very end, Jesus was still trying to get across his message, and up to the very end there was continued resistance. And so, the Cup could not be taken away. It had to be done, and this wonderful man did it. He showed us with his body, the message of his life.
Come. Look. See. Take away every shred of ego, humble yourself to the point of THIS, let go of ALL control, lose EVERYthing, and then you can Love. Come, Love...