There is a deepness about this week called “holy”; a deepness of breath, a stilling of pace, a pause.
It is as though the whole swirl of the Christ-among-us is concentrated in these seven days. The wild unfurling of hope, the stillness and grief of last meals, the betrayals and the turncoat fear and the utter silence after the last is breathed.
We are asked to take these things into our bodies and hold them awhile. We take them in as witness to the then pain and to the ongoing of the now sorts of crucifixions. We choose for a time not to look away.
Of course, we know that Easter is coming. The trumpets and the lilies will declare an end to death and we will know the real of resurrection hope.
But for this week, we becoming willing to bear witness, summoning the courage to know that this deepness is reminder. For all weeks we are called to see. To choose not to look away from the instruments of torture – relational, societal, and visceral – that exist yet.
And we are better for it, this week called “holy”.