WEEK SEVEN––HOLY WEEK  
TITLE: CHRIST’S SACRIFICIAL DEATH         
March 24 - March 30

Losing a family member or beloved friend to death is a difficult experience, one that all of us will face at some point in our lives. Deep grief is often the accompanying emotion, filling us with the big questions of life and with wonder about what the circumstances of our own end-of-life scenario will be. The young often feel indestructible, but the older we get, the more time we spend contemplating our mortality. The reality of death is sobering. This week we will reflect on the suffering and sacrificial death of Christ. 

It’s mind-boggling to consider the fact that Christ loved us so much that while we were still sinners he emptied himself of his heavenly glory, took upon himself the cloak of humanity, and gave his life on the cruel cross so that we might be reconciled to God through his blood. The book of Hebrews tells us that Christ became our model or example by sharing our pain, feeling our emotions, and living without sin among us, in all the messiness of earthly existence. Through his salvific actions he became our “great High Priest.”  

The Old Testament high priest interceded or made requests on behalf of his people before God. Once a year, on the sacred Day of Atonement, the high priest would cautiously enter the holy of holies, where he sprinkled the blood of the sacrificial lamb on the mercy seat of the ark of the covenant to atone for the sins of the children of Israel. Like the Old Testament high priest, Christ bore the burdens of humanity; but Christ did it on the cross, becoming the perfect once-for-all sacrifice. He is now at the right hand of God continually interceding for his children—“For we do not have a High Priest who cannot sympathize with our weaknesses, but was in all points tempted as we are, yet without sin.  Let us therefore come boldly to the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need.” (Hebrews 4:15–16).

Only as we are able to meditate on the horror and awful finality of death can we begin to comprehend the full impact of Christ’s oblation and then his glorious resurrection. So once again, let us be present with Christ at the Last Supper, in the garden of Gethsemane, in the courts of the Jewish and Roman rulers, on Mount Calvary at the foot of the cross, and with Joseph of Arimathea in his newly hewn tomb.

Day 40 - Sunday, March 24
PALM SUNDAY 
Title: CHRIST OUR PASSOVER
Scripture: 1 Corinthians 5:6-8 (NKJV)
Do you not know that a little leaven leavens the whole lump? Therefore purge out the old leaven, that you may be a new lump, since you truly are unleavened. For indeed Christ, our Passover, was sacrificed for us. Therefore let us keep the feast, not with old leaven, nor with the leaven of malice and wickedness, but with the unleavened bread of sincerity and truth.

Poetry & Poet: 
“Bread: After Levchev”
by Linda Pastan

“It seems to be the five stages
of yeast, not grief,
you like to write about,”
my son says,
meaning that bread
is always rising
and falling, being broken
and eaten, in my poems.

And though he is only half serious,
I want to say to him
“bread rising in the bowl
is like breath rising in the body;”
or “if you knead the dough
with perfect tenderness,
it is like gently kneading flesh
when you make love.”
Baguette . . . pita . . . pane . . .
Challah . . . naan: bread is
the universal language, translatable
on the famished tongue.

Now it is time to open
the package of yeast
and moisten it with water,
watching for its fizz,
its blind energy–proofing
it’s called, the animate proof
of life. Everything
is ready: salt, flour, oil.
Breadcrumbs are what lead
the children home.

CHRIST OUR PASSOVER                                           

It's hard to break old habits. What we learn first is typically what we go back to. Years ago, my husband and I rescued a dog that had already passed through several homes before reaching ours. He came to us with an issue called “resource guarding,” which is a propensity towards defensive action like barking or snapping if he felt his food was at risk. One way to counter this behavior is by hand-feeding. Kibble by kibble, treat by treat, everything comes from your hand. It shows through repeated experience that your outstretched hand is not going to take, it is going to give.

This is not a trait that is unique to animals. As people, we often manage anxiety about our survival through the way we plan, save, work, and in the way we isolate and insulate ourselves from those who may threaten us. The inherent result of this self-preservation focus is to grasp and exclude, to evaluate and rank, to inflate ourselves and demean others. It’s fitting then that God would institute the Passover as he brings his people out of Egypt. How are a people going to change the way they relate to necessities like food after years of oppression? Make a meal, the last one in Egypt. Eat it all, everything. Do not save anything, hoard anything, tuck away anything. Then come to the wilderness, where God will feed you from his hand, day by day. Am I willing to risk dependency on God?

Paul sees something similar occurring in the church of Corinth, a turning back to the old habits that are learned before the freedom found in Christ. The abundance they have experienced has led them to spiritual and physical hoarding because they have forgotten the manna of the wilderness. We find out from Paul that they rank themselves based on who preached to them (1 Cor 3:4), and that when they eat together, some go hungry while others feast (1 Cor 11). They have forgotten that the Church is corporate, not individual. This is resource guarding. It results in a divided body, which is not the way for us. So, Paul reminds them of Passover, the Feast of Unleavened Bread. Go back to the training. Remove this leaven and make just enough bread for this meal and remember who we are in sincerity and truth. And once it is eaten?

Our Father, give us this day our daily bread. In this reminder our eyes readjust to see who is sitting with us at the table and whose hand feeds us all. Have I been too concerned with my own self-sufficiency that I have lost regard for my brother, for my neighbor?

In today’s painting, artist Phaedra Jean Taylor utilizes paper leaves that carry on them the prayers of a church congregation. These leaves, like the palm fronds of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem, are laid down as a mat on the canvas. Hidden under the paint one reads, “Let no one perish.” Hosanna! Save us! Envision with me the golden squares in the painting as tabletops being pushed together; is there enough for all of us? Only remember what we learned when he fed the 4,000 and the 5,000.

The kingdom of heaven is also described as leaven, and it will permeate through us if we haven’t already puffed ourselves up on the old leaven.

“Bread is the universal language,” Linda Pastan writes in today’s poem, and “breadcrumbs are what lead the children home.” Together we keep the Feast of Unleavened Bread, so that we remember the new instincts that were taught to us. And in doing so, perhaps our eyes will open to those looking for a seat at the table, and we’ll become more aware of what the Father is handing to us.

Prayer
Our Father in heaven,
hallowed be your name.
Your kingdom come,
your will be done,
     on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread,
and forgive us our debts,
     as we also have forgiven our debtors.
And lead us not into temptation,
     but deliver us from evil.

Stacie Poston
Adjunct Instructor
Torrey Honors College
Biola University

For more information about the artwork, music, and poetry selected for this day, we have provided resources under the “About” tab located next to the “Devotional” tab.