Midway Through Holy Week

The year that Mel Gibson's The Passion Of The Christ came out, we went to the theater to watch it during Holy Week, and sometimes it was almost too much to bear.

But Holy Week was changed for me forever after my son and I went to Israel, and walked where Jesus walked during that last week of His life. We went to the Upper Room, walked down to the Garden where Jesus prayed to His Father and was betrayed by one of His own. We went to where Jesus was brought before Caiaphas and where Peter denied Him three times, we followed the Via Dolorosa, stopping at each of the Stations to hear our priest read from Scripture what happened there and to pray. We stood near the spot where Pontius Pilate handed Jesus over to the Jews to be crucified.

We knelt to pray inside the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, at the place where Jesus' cross stood, at the stone where His Body was placed when He was taken down from the cross, and at His tomb. Jason and I were drawn back there again and again. We went with our tour group the first time, then went back when our guide gave us some free time after lunch. The day before we were to come home we had a whole day free, and we went again, just the two of us, and then one more time later that day with a couple from our group.

We were blessed to see and experience many, many more of the important places in the history of Christ, and I treasure every one of them, but tracing the week of His Passion made the most impression on my heart. It made it so very real.

Tuesday's Gospel reading is the whole Passion of Christ according to St. Mark 14. 32-72; 15. 1-46, and today's Gospel (Wednesday) is the Passion according to St. Luke 22. 39-71; 23. 1-53. Read it and weep.

The painting is The Taking of Christ by Caravaggio, 1602.