In other words...
Holy Week has always drawn my heart. Even as a child, I was fascinated- first by the contrasts. I can remember asking my mother how people could change their minds so quickly. Palm Sunday's lauding crowds so quickly became an angry mob. How could this happen? How could these people not see? Mom's answer was that the road into Jerusalem simply had to lead to the Cross. It couldn't happen any other way, or we would have no hope."At the heart of the story stands the cross
of Christ where evil did
its worst and met its match."
~ John Wenham ~
I didn't fully comprehend for years- heck, I don't know that I do even now. Everything points to the Cross, and that colors everything I read in Scripture. I have a Messianic friend who insists that to understand the New Testament, I must read with a Jewish sensibility. I must respectfully disagree with this assertion-- while reading through Jewish eyes offers new insights, it is not vital. It is, however, vital to read the Old Testament in the shadow of the Cross.
These days I find myself captivated by the betrayal and crucifixion. How close Evil was to our Saviour, dining with Him, even kissing Him. And then, when all seemed lost...
Rather than Jewish eyes, I want Easter eyes. To see everything not in the darkness of Friday night, but in the glorious light of that Sunday. Everything points to the Cross and beyond to the empty tomb.