life. faithful.

The cross--an instrument of execution that was so intense a word was invented just to describe the pain: excruciating. It was a humiliating, agonizing way to die, hanging there exposed to everything and everyone, your death long and drawn out and on display for the jeering crowd. What a terrible way for an innocent man to die. Add to that the taunting and torture Jesus experienced before His death--lashes so severe they often left the victim dead simply because the body can't recover from the combination of shock and blood loss. Slaps and curses and a crown of thorns from Roman soldiers. Struggling to carry a cross down the same streets where, just days before, people had shouted praises and thrown their cloaks down before Him as He entered the city. Looking out at faces full of hatred, at people demanding His life. And on the other faces, fear and confusion as they tried to reconcile this broken, bleeding man with the idea of the conqueror who would save God's people from

There's no doubt that we are in a strange time right now (though the difference is more pronounced in some places than in others). Outside there seems to be a hush, as if all of creation is holding its breath. It's the beginning of Holy Week, but it isn't unfolding the way so many of us expected. For us, today was going to be the day our church family joined together to commemorate the Passover--though I'm sure it would have looked very different from the dinner Jesus shared with His disciples. If we look back, God so often works in the unexpected. Take today--Palm Sunday. The people of Israel were looking for the Messiah, the Liberating King who would free them from Roman oppression. They were looking for the Conqueror, the Lion of Judah who would rise up and establish the kingdom. They had started to follow this Jesus, a powerful miracle worker who could cast out demons. They were likely recalling the words of the prophets: "Cry out with joy, O daughter o