This Holy Week
By Shelli Williams
April 17, 2011
On this day we joyously follow the crowd
Palms in hand and praises fair
Unaware that just inside the city gate
Worlds collide and tempers flare.
And we are faced with the choice
Between silent acquiescence and faith portrayed
For one will pacify the world we know
And one will take us farther along Christ’s Way.
So we follow our Lord hoping against hope
That soon the road might veer
And get us back to a place we know,
A place we do not fear.
And then the fragrance of spilled perfume
Begins to cloud our head
The woman takes and pours and wipes our Lord
And we wonder what we would’ve said.
And then the tide begins to turn
And talk of death ensues
But not just death for death’s dark sake
But death so life won’t lose.
We hear tales of wheat that when it dies
Leaves no seed behind
For the seed itself has died away
To itself bear fruit sublime
The path now seems to fly beneath us
And our doubts get carried away
We begin to question if we are more apt
To follow or betray
We hear the story of Judas’ deed
And quickly jump to blame,
But more than that we have to ask
If we might have done the same.
We enter now that Upper Room
And take the wine and bread
And sit as our Lord washes our feet
When we feel we should be washing instead
A late night walk down a winding path,
Into the garden we go
And in the cold of night, Jesus says
Something that we already know.
For on this night it all will end
With naught but a single kiss
Our friend, our teacher, and our Lord
Surely it can’t be ending like this.
Our Lord Jesus now is whisked away
In a flurry of chaotic swarm
And we are left with a helpless silence
As the clouds gather for the storm.
The sun has set in blackest night
And my Lord lies in chains
What has brought us to this place?
Which of us is full of blame?
Friday dawns like all other days
And then it turns to black
My Lord is there hanging till death finally comes
There is no going back.
And then my Lord dies a horrid death
While I just stand and stare,
All hope is lost, all life is gone,
There’s no use staying there.
And then the afternoon turns black as night
And angry skies yell out
It is as if all of Creation cries
In pain and grief and doubt.
We lay our Lord in a tomb of death
His body limp and gray
There is nothing left to do
But turn and walk away.
The Saturday shadows fight the sun
Surely it’s all a dream.
We grieve our loss and quietly nurse our pain
While the world goes on in steam
Who then really is to blame?
Who’s fault do we imply?
Does it really matter now?
When innocence has died?
The world has lost all innocence
And yet no one need be judged to death
For hell this day has lost its place
Vanquished by God’s forgiving breath.
This day is not for us to know
What happens in God’s stead
This day we wait in silent vigil
While God moves on ahead.
And on the third day of this time
The tomb opened to the light
And there my Lord, who died before
Is risen in my sight.
Christ my Lord is Risen Today!
And gone is need to mourn,
For Creation lost has lived again
And life itself reborn.
I tell this story so that you’ll know
That death is not the end.
The journey turns and light returns
As each of us to life transcend.
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