In the traditional liturgy of the Catholic Church, Holy Week includes reading each Gospel account of the Passion.
For years I’ve marveled at the way the liturgy highlights and illuminates certain theological and spiritual truths. There is something truly humiliating in the best sense that the choir, which represents and speaks for “the people in the pews” is cast as the fickle religious mob in these chanted retellings. It forces you to confront the idea that you might have greeted him as Messiah on Palm Sunday, and chanted “Crucify him!” on Good Friday.
This year, where I’ve been reading more and more liturgically appropriate Bible stories to my youngest son from Word on Fire’s excellent children’s Bible, The Story of All Stories, I’m struck by the sheer Hollywood drama of this final confrontation.
Jesus has made a name for himself in three years of ministry. But increasingly he has hinted to his disciples that he is bound for death. This makes the disciples afraid to go to Jerusalem. But, when Jesus’s friend Lazarus falls ill and dies, they travel to nearby Bethany. After receiving a scolding from Lazarus’s sisters — “If you had been here Lord, he would not have died” — Jesus goes to the tomb of his friend and weeps.
From this moment the story really kicks off. Jesus tells the people to roll away the stone from Lazarus’s tomb. He announces that he is the Resurrection and the Life, and then calls his friend out of the tomb, bidding him back from the dead. This undeniable miracle, performed in front of so many people, gets them talking. And then it is on to Jerusalem, where Jesus rides on a humble donkey rather than in a victory chariot led by strong horses. Here he is fulfilling the prophecies about the coming Messiah, and crowds start laying palm fronds and their coats before him. Almost immediately, he goes right to the Temple courtyard and confronts the money changers and lenders, whipping them away. My son said Jesus was “crashing out” on the money changers. In short order, Jesus has threatened the whole order of things.