Let us call it the secret place of Jesus. The Bible tells us it was His custom to withdraw to the garden so He could commune with the Father. We know that He had a regular time and place for prayer. We also know that He did something once heaven endorsed it.

We may want to ask. What is it about having a prayer place and time? Does it mean God would not hear us otherwise? On the contrary, it is the force of habit. The art of separating ourselves into specific locations signals that we consider prayer crucial to life and value our time with God. It is an honour to be allowed in God’s presence. Separating ourselves to receive such a huge grace is a delightsome act.

Remember that God is holy and separate, so our relations with Him must be so. ‘Does it mean my prayer would not be effective if I don’t have a place and time?’

Not so. We do so to have unhindered access, and the only way we can achieve that is to give it what will make for the utmost effectiveness.

The sacredness of the communion table and its tremendous power were ingrained into me early in life. I must have been about ten or eleven years old. The elements were prepared by people who had seeded their lives to God and His service. If the sacredness of the communion could be described from a little girl's perspective, it would read; thus, The Reverend Fathers and Sisters always wore white. They barely spoke any word anytime they were on duty. Everywhere was quiet; you could hear a pin drop, and even the air aligned with the ambience. Everything was still a testament to their holiness and proof of the presence of God. This scenario always filled me with awe. They even sang songs, and with such sonorous voices, it felt like heaven was visiting the sons of men. Someone had told me before that if anyone was not clean, at that moment, they could die as God was too pure to set eyes on any filthiness. So, I was also in fear but not the bad kind. I made sure to confess and do away with my sins before I came to church, so I knew I was ok. When the priests got finished with their preparation, they would gingerly walk down to the base of the altar where the communicants were kneeling and waiting to partake of the body and blood of Christ. All these helped me conclude that I needed to respect the sacredness of the table.

Dinner was set, and all were made ready. Time to eat, and the Master requested a towel and a washbasin. Naturally, hearts were curious. What again, they must have wondered. Their Master's leadership; is the style characterised by twists and turns, surprises, and awe-inspiring moves. They became much better people just hanging around him. Their ignorant life made full of clout and wisdom, and power. They were boys to the henchman. How cool was that?

That day though, the water basin and towel move was a wonder. As the disciple sat down to watch, they saw him go on one knee. The Master was bowing, for what and to whom?

Jesus stopped at the first disciple and demanded his dirty feet. "Stretch out your feet", was the order. Bewildered, he did as commanded. There was silence in the room. The eyes and body did the talking. What was he up to? What was he trying to say?

The Master grabbed the feet, dipped them in the basin, and started to wash. The disciple, though bewildered, could not ask questions but had inner turmoil.

One after the other, feet were stretched for the Master to clean.

Jesus got to Peter, and the disciple refused. The others may not know what is right, nor the person of Jesus. He had earlier made it known that Jesus was Christ the anointed one. Had they forgotten He came from heaven and was not their mate?

It was a privilege to be called to be His disciple. After all, many fishermen did not make it to their company.

He insisted he could not have his Master serve him in such a derogatory way.

Jesus' response threw another spanner in the works. "If I do not clean your feet, you will not have your place in me."

The intelligent guy Peter said, "don't just clean my feet wash the whole of my body, and let me have all of you."

Let us pause there a bit.

Jesus was trying to teach how to be a master. If you are so-called, you are to come down to the level of the people. To touch anyone's life, you have to reach their heart. You must show you are humble enough to go ten yards with them. You have to be willing to take the crap.

Peter wanted it all. He was that passionate, but Jesus replied it was enough to have the token.

The message is clear enough without us going into religion.

Let's take the second part of the service.

The table was set, and the Master was ready to unlock the next mystery.

So he got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist. After that, he poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples’ feet, drying them with the towel that was wrapped around him.

He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, “Lord, are you going to wash my feet?”

Jesus replied, “You do not realize now what I am doing, but later you will understand.”

“No,” said Peter, “you shall never wash my feet.”

Jesus answered, “Unless I wash you, you have no part with me.”

“Then, Lord,” Simon Peter replied, “not just my feet but my hands and my head as well!” (John 13:4-9)

Have you ever picked up a book, skimmed through the pages and felt your life was being surveilled? Did the words therein make you feel like your personal space was being invaded? Did any word tug at you so much that you felt like engaging the author and giving them a piece of your mind? I am sure you attempted to skip some pages and discovered you were engrossed. Some of the thoughts provided made sense, and you reasoned, 'that was a good way to put it'. The truth is, I know the answer to most of the questions posed above, so I will not wait for you to respond. I am just like you. My reactions are just like yours.

Sometimes, I read some articles and agree or disagree with the thoughts therein. I have often stumbled at information that practically turned my life around. Sometimes I read because I know who wrote, understand their thoughts and believe in them. I have even related to some of these people, so I know how they function.

Other times I knew nothing about the writer, yet I felt the pull to read whatever they wrote. At such times, I have been tremendously blessed and fired up.

I have lived many Easter seasons. My early years in the choir and lay readers society, and my adult years as an intercessor and counsellor.

The years as a member of the choir and lay readers were all about singing Easter songs and reading about the passion of Christ.

Wait! As I write this, the word passion jumps at me. The thought of someone feeling so passionately about me to lay down his life so I could live, brings a lot of emotions back.

I specifically remember the song the Old Rugged Cross. The image the song paints keeps me sober. I love the lyrics, and I remember one of my mentors always rendering the same on Good Fridays.

The season of lent culminates on Easter Sunday or better still resurrection Sunday. But before we get that far, the Holy Week.

Holy Week celebrations for me began on Thursday when we had the last supper.

The story; Jesus sent some disciples ahead to prepare a place for him to have the last supper before his death.

Back up a bit, earlier, he sent them to the city to get a colt for him to ride.

The colt was tied, never been ridden, specially prepared for what nobody was privy to.

The instructions were, “go untie the colt, you would be questioned, and your answer should be, the Lord is in need, and the colt is on duty.”

Go with me in your mind, please. Imagine the colt was a human being. He had a sense of purpose, and every time he quizzed the master, he would be told wait.

After years of feeling ready, he resigned to being tied to one spot. His heart was right, but a bit confused.

He was on His way to the grand finale. This was the mother of all assignments. Jesus was making His way to Jerusalem. He had already spoken about His death and all that would lead to it. But now he needed some vessels. He is always in the know; He knows where the vessels for the very next assignment are located. He was specific. You would find them, by the way, he said.

In waiting to hear how the Lord would have us ride today, judging by the pictures He painted on my mind, it was evident. The asses/colts were ready. They must have been specially taken care of by their owners. How else would they have qualified to carry the Master Himself? Jesus intimated to the special duties officers of the state in which the vehicles would be – they would be tied. They were brand new, never ridden by anyone. They would also have people overseeing them, and these people would undoubtedly query them.

The answer they were to give was simple: the Master needed them. The owners could not argue. The one who dwelt in them recognised the Masters’ authority and let them go. The disciples returned to Jesus with the vehicles, and Jesus was able to enter Jerusalem in pomp and pageantry.

My friend, please indulge me for a moment and let us transpose. Can we bring ourselves to believe that the last couple of days, or for some, the last couple of years, had been spent preparing us for this triumphant ride? Could we have been put on the waiting list or made to sit on the bench because we were on special duty? You see, some colts were used for less honourable assignments.

Is it possible that all that has been happening to you is to prepare you for when the Master wants to arrive in style? What would have been going through the ass’s mind when they were tied, and they would watch others go by them? Has life tied you down? Is anyone laying a claim on you now? When were the disciples told to untie the colts? What do you think they were thinking?

What would you think the disciples were doing when they were untying the asses, and their owners were querying? Did they even doubt their assignment at any time? What makes the ass owners yield so easily? I dare to answer this one, timing. The time was ripe! The answer I find very instructive. The Master was in need.

Is it possible that you are that colt? Know this, my beloved; you may have been wondering when the Lord will send for you. The time is now. Maybe your question is, for how long would I remain tied? The answer is until now! Who owned you until now? Would they ever find you useful? You bet! When will you be decorated? Now Jesus did arrive in style riding on the never before ridden colts.

May I offer a prayer for you: the Master will find you useful for His special assignment. May this be truly the time of your showing forth! May men sing your Master’s praise when they see Him riding you.

Is it looking like this season of your life is about to end? are you sensing a transition?

Walk the days before Jesus heads to Jerusalem. What He said to His followers.

In middle eastern culture, food and feasting is a crucial fixture. Families and friends would come together to feast. It was the symbol of relaxation, fellowship, hospitality and generosity. The story in Luke chapter 7 describes one such occasion. Jesus was present as a guest. Being a desert region, people would trek long distances through hot and dusty roads to reach their destination. The result would be that they arrived with dirty feet and would need that cleaned before entering the house. The feet-washing exercise, though, was the job of the house's servants.

Jesus was already in, and feasting had begun when a twist came in the day's programme. A woman came in, went to Jesus, knelt at His feet, poured the entire content of an alabaster box on His feet and wiped them with her long hair. It was a noble cause considering that the feet-washing ceremony was not done when Jesus entered the house. Did she know that, or was she playing out a script? We do not need to answer the question, but we do have to consider the reactions that trailed the womans' gesture. Someone called her action a waste seeing the perfume was worth a year's salary. Another secretly queried the authenticity of Jesus' ministry. If He was indeed a prophet, He should know that the woman should not come near. But, wait, were they not all in the Pharisee's house? When did he become a saint? Plus, the fellow who thought her generosity was wasteful, we are told, did not care about the poor. It was all a hypocritical outlook.

Follow the sons of thunder and their mother as they lay the request for positions before the Master

Mom Zebedee, on several occasions, was a silent listener to her sons every time they recanted their daily experiences with their new master, the new prophet in town.

As the matriarch, she wondered what their future held, considering they both abandoned the family business to find a much better path to life. To her mind, if they chose the new course, there had to be something in it for them. To be sure, they would not lose at both ends. Moreover, her husband was getting older, and it was only a matter of time before he would be unable to continue to run the business. What would her boys' future be, considering that the prophet was new and had no antecedents? Every parent's dream is to see their children continue their legacy. She decided they had to do something about the matter.

She reasoned that if the prophet was anything near what her sons and the news around town reported, the Rabbi must be an influential person who, in time, would be instituting his kingdom. So there was nothing wrong with her ambition to secure her children's positions in the new arrangement.

Imagine that the plan took a while to assemble; she had to be sure it was foolproof. She presented the same to her sons, and they had no objection. We can only deduce that they were also thinking such thoughts. The Bible does not tell us that the patriarch was involved in their plot, but we can get away with the fact he was in on it too.