Wednesday in Holy Week

Wednesday in Holy Week is the third “lost day” in Holy Week.

I mentioned in previous posts that Monday and Tuesday, and to a lesser degree Wednesday, in Holy Week are days that are seldom referred to or reflected on, primarily because the focus has been (mostly rightly) on the heavy hitters of the week: Palm Sunday, Maundy Thursday, and Good Friday.

Be that as it may, the whole week is called Holy Week, and it seems appropriate to reflect on the propers for each day as it comes in order that we might better profit from our walk with Jesus from the way of the palms to the way of the cross – and on into Easter. It is important we take our time and not rush. The Lilies will come in due season, but for now, let’s walk slowly with eyes and ears open, and hearts in tune with the harmony of the season.

The Collect for Wednesday in Holy Week

Lord God, whose blessed Son our Savior gave his body to be whipped and his face to be spit upon: Give us grace to accept joyfully the sufferings of the present time, confident of the glory that shall be revealed; through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

The Lessons

Isaiah 50:4-9a
Psalm 70
Hebrews 12:1-3
John 13:21-32

Today, Jesus speaks of betrayal. Looking at his twelve closest associates, his most intimate friends, Jesus says,

“Amen, amen, I say unto thee,
one of you will betray me.”

Every disciple looks around aghast and uncertain; each wonders of whom Jesus could possibly be speaking. Surely it couldn’t be one of them! They love Jesus; they respect Jesus; they listen to Jesus; and they have followed him from the banks of the Jordan, to the shores of Gennesaret, to the Citadel in Jerusalem. Even now they are at his side in the valley of the shadow, in the City of Peace, ready – always ready – to do his bidding, and to live or die for him and for his kingdom.

But are they ready? Are they willing? Are they able?

In mere hours after this night, they will flee into the darkness. Oh sure, they sound tough, there at dinner, as they rattle their sabers and threaten grievous bodily harm to any who might try to challenge their king of kings. But their brave façade dissipates at the first sign of trouble. Brave disciples – they cannot even stay awake while Jesus prays; how do they hope to fight when darkest night descends upon their heady little band and steals away that tiny sliver of resolve they showed around the table as they ate their bread, drank their wine, and thumped their chests?

Before we point our fingers and snarl with contempt at those who slept while Jesus prayed, or who fled when Jesus was arrested, or at the one who dared greet and betray him with a kiss, we need to ask ourselves: would we have fared any better?

Don’t we betray Jesus ever so regularly with betrayals large and small? When we judge others without having all the facts at hand, or turn a blind eye to those in need, don’t we betray Jesus even just a little? When we make decisions regarding our life’s direction, intentionally or unintentionally placing God in the back seat – He who bought and paid for us with his very own blood – aren’t we betraying him with minimizing carelessness?

“All have sinned and come short of the glory of God,” says St. Paul. The glory of God is full, complete, unabashed humility and mercy in the service of justice.

Jesus’ disciples slept, betrayed, and fled that night. This day we consider seriously the condition of our soul, and our need – our TRUE need – for a redeemer. Our betrayal is real. So is God’s mercy.