Emmaus at Pilot Mill

(For a full account of the events of this day, see Matthew 27:1–61, Mark 15:1–47, Luke 23:1–56, John 18:28–19:42.)

On Thursday night in Gethsemane, Jesus was arrested—betrayed by one of his disciples and abandoned by the others. The chief priests and the Sanhedrin called for secret trials in the dead of night, and the verdict handed down was that Jesus would be crucified. This is something the Roman prefect, Pontius Pilate, has to execute. And reluctantly, he does.
After a severe beating, Jesus is nailed to a cross where he remains for six hours until dead. Never before or since has more been lost and gained at the same time. The world gained the atoning sacrifice of Christ. But for those present, either the significance of the moment is lost on them or their hearts break as the One they thought to be the Savior of the world dies at the hands of Rome. They can’t stop it, and they don’t realize it’s for them. They hoped in him, and though he’d told them he would suffer many things and rise three days later (Mark 8:31), how could they have possibly known this was what he meant?

(For a full account of the events of this day, see Matthew 26:17–75, Mark 14:12–72, Luke 22:7–71, John 13:1–18:27.)

The Thursday prior to Jesus’s crucifixion fills many pages in Scripture. It begins with John and Peter securing the upper room. There, Jesus washes his disciples’ feet, explaining he is there to make them clean.
As they begin to eat, Jesus announces one of them is about to betray him. Each wonders if he means them. Then he dispatches Judas to do what he intends.
During this last supper, Jesus sets apart the Passover bread and cup and reassigns—or better, perfects—their meaning. The bread is his body. The cup, his blood. This meal will no longer remind them of God’s deliverance primarily from the external tyranny of Pharaoh, but from the internal tyranny of their own guilt and sin against God.
Jesus prays for his friends and those who will come to know him through them—that his Father would make them one (John 17). Then Jesus and his friends leave for the Mount of Olives to pray (Mark 14:33). But he isn’t there only to pray. He is also there to wait. Soon a line of torches snake their way toward him in the darkness. This is what he has been waiting for.

(For a full account of the events of this day, see Matthew 26:6–16, Mark 14:3–11, Luke 22:3–6.)

Read: The past several days have been a rush of tension and anger for Jesus’s opponents—and of unflinching resolve for Jesus. Words have been his currency, and he’s spent piles of them. But on the Wednesday before his death, Jesus is still.
He is in the home of Simon the Leper, a man known by what’s wrong with him. During their meal together, Mary of Bethany—Lazarus’s sister (John 12:3)—comes to Jesus with an alabaster flask of perfume. She’s been saving this perfume, worth a year’s wages, for this exact occasion (John 12:7). She begins pouring it on Jesus’s head and feet, which requires breaking open its container (Mark 14:3). Like popping the cork on a $20,000 bottle of champagne, this was a deliberate act. She is offering Jesus everything she has. By giving her most valuable possession to him, she is expressing her knowledge that what he’s about to give of himself is for her.
What Mary does is beautiful, and Jesus wants everyone to know it. She is preparing him for burial. There is honor and kindness in her gesture. Jesus returns the honor by saying history will never forget her act of beauty. And we haven’t.

(For a full account of the events of this day, see Matthew 21:23–26:5, Mark 11:27–14:2, Luke 20:1–22:2, John 12:37–50.)

If Monday’s arrival in the temple was an all-inclusive, living parable of cleansing God’s house, Tuesday’s entrance is a direct, verbal confrontation with the appointed leadership. After Jesus clarifies he doesn’t regard these leaders as having any authority over him, he spends the rest of the day right there in the temple to teach the people God’s Word. But Tuesday afternoon is the last time Jesus publicly teaches in the temple as a free man. His words on this day are his closing argument, his manifesto.
When Jesus leaves the temple on Tuesday, the chief priests and scribes are “seeking how to arrest him by stealth and kill him” (Mark 14:1). But they can’t take his life from him solely on the strength of the charges they plan to bring—not if he defends himself. But he won’t. Instead, by his silence, he’ll offer up his life for a world of blasphemers and traitors and liars. This was what he has come to do, and as he exits the temple that Tuesday afternoon, he knows he will do it soon.

(For a full account of the events of this day, see Matthew 21:12–22, Mark 11:12–19, Luke 19:45–48.)

If Jerusalem was a beehive, with his triumphal entry Jesus had hit it with a stick. You could hear the buzz grow as the anger within got organized. His kingly arrival was a strong declaration about his authority over all the conventions of man.
On Monday, Jesus returns for more—this time to declare the failure of God’s people to live up to their covenant mandate to be a blessing to the world. Much of what the Gospels tell us about Monday centers on the theme of Jesus’s authority—both over the created world and his right to judge it. Everything Jesus did, he did with authority. So when he awoke his disciples Monday saying he wanted to go back into Jerusalem to teach, as risky as it sounded it wasn’t surprising. Everyone sensed something stirring, as if Jesus had rounded a corner and his end was coming fast. He was a marked man.]

(For a full account of the events of this day, see Matthew 21:1–11, Mark 11:1–11, Luke 19:28–44, John 12:9–19.)

When Jesus rode into Jerusalem perched on a colt, it was the first time since raising Lazarus from the dead that he’d shown his face in the city. The story of Lazarus’s resurrection had circulated so that many regarded Jesus as a celebrity. Everyone wanted to catch a glimpse. They went out to meet him and received him like a King, because they heard he had done this (John 12:18).
Jesus said Lazarus’s death would end in the faith of many, and in the “glory of God—that the Son of God may be glorified through it” (John 11:4). But the glory he had in mind was even more glorious than his triumphal entry into Jerusalem. In fact, he wasn’t referring to the glory these people gave him at all. Lazarus’s resurrection would steel the resolve of the religious leaders to hand Jesus over to a death he would embrace—a death he would conquer. That was the glory he meant. As he rode into Jerusalem, the people cried, “Your King is coming!” They praised his victory over Lazarus’s death. But the irony was that he wasn’t coming to claim his crown on account of Lazarus’s death and resurrection, but on account of his own.

Introduction to Holy Week. We will be posting scripture and a meditation each day this week leading up to Easter.

You humble me,
But never humiliate me.
You confront me,
But never mock me.
You warn me,
but never abandon me.
You call me,
But never leave me alone.
You discipline me,
but never beat me up.
You command me,
But never fail to enable me.
You see into my heart,
But never reject me for what you see.
You teach me your mysteries,
But never make fun of how much i don't know.
You stay near to me,
But you never tire of me.
You place your love on me,
But never withdraw it when I fail.
So I love you,
But i have to understand that
My hope and security,
My present and my future,
My acceptance and my identity,
My ability and potential,
Are not in my love for you,
But in your shocking,
Unfailing,
Faithful,
Wise,
And powerful
Love for me.

_________


Who shall separate us from the love of christ?
Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or sword? As it is written,

“For your sake we are being killed all the day
Long;
We are regarded as sheep to be
Slaughtered.”

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. ( Rom. 8:35-37)

Recall as many times as you can where God promises to “never” do something in scripture.

Do you fully base all of your life in God's love for you?

For further study and encouragement, read Ephesians 2.

I wish I could commend
My righteousness to you,
But I can't.
I wish I could brag of
My strength to you,
But i can't.
I wish I could boast about my wisdom
To you,
But I can't.
I wish I could point you to my track
Record,
But I can't.
You know me better than
I know myself.
I never escape your eye.
You search the deepest
regions of my heart.
You know my thoughts before
they are conscious of me.
You know my words before
I hear myself speak them.
You examine my desires before
They move me to action.
So without pretense or inadequate
Excuse,
Stripped of pride and self defence,
I bow before you,
Devoid of demand or argument,
And I make one plea.
It is for your mercy.
I have come to accept
What you know of me,
And I cry for one thing-
Grace.

_______

For thus says the One who is high and lifted up,
Who inhabits eternity, whose name is Holy:
“I dwell in the high and holy place,
And also with him who is a contrite and lowly spirit,
To revive the spirit of the lowly,
And to receive the heart of the contrite.” (Isa. 57:15)

Pray and search through you heart-are there sins you excuse or defend,
Is there pride pretense, or do you demand something from God because
Of your self righteousness? Humbly offer your discoveries to God.

Review your knowledge of various biblical heroes, particularly considering the moments
When God revealed sin in their hearts. How did they react? ( to help get started, see Job 38-42:6 or 2 Samuel 12)

For further study and encouragement, read psalm 139.