Rebecca Carpenter

             Reflections on the mirrored lake set a foundation of peace for the early morning.  Tall pines stood perfectly still as they guarded the lake.  No wind rustled the leaves.  The painted blue sky completed the serene landscape.  My eyes had captured a mental photograph composed of great beauty and calmness.

            When I studied the whole picture, I saw clusters of trees, with few individual details, forming a lovely background.  Then my gaze stopped on a nearby, smaller pine which I had overlooked when examining the whole panorama.  At the end of each branch, an extension pointed upward displaying a natural cross with a circle of five crosses at the top.  How fitting that the crosses appeared just before Easter. The top limbs were symmetrical and full, but the lower ones seemed random and mismatched like the pattern had been broken.  One side of the tree had bare spots which produced a peculiar look.  In spite of the uneven, sporadically placed limbs, the tree stood erect and proud.  It welcomed scrambling squirrels and a collage of singing birds.  The wildlife cared nothing for the shape or beauty of the tree but that it was steady, open, and available. 

            How often does the long term focus of our whole life cause us to overlook the important, immediate details right in front of us?  Maybe we neglect those who are closest to us in order to appease the world.  Maybe we ignore people who are not showy and demanding.  Like my misshapened tree, there may be people who have been crippled and damaged by life but have risen above the pain.  They may not be attractive or newsworthy, but they provide comfort and love to those who need a sanctuary.  It might be a family member, a neighbor, a friend, or church member.  It could be a stranger who notices that there is someone in need.  They do not ask for recognition but would love a kind word.  As I go out today, I am going to search for those who are usually overlooked and surprise them with a word of encouragement.  

            Disheartened, dejected, desperate—the disciples hid in a secluded room afraid of being discovered.  If the city had so quickly turned on Jesus, weren’t they also in danger?  What would they do now?  How could they escape?  Where would they go?  Would they return to their former jobs which they had abandoned to follow Jesus?  They had believed Him and trusted Him.  He was gone after such an ugly death, and their high hopes had been extinguished.  So many unanswered questions loomed before them.

            Peter sat isolated, depressed, and humiliated in the corner of the room.  Just as Jesus predicted, Peter had denied Him three times.  How could he have done that to someone that he loved?  Jesus looked right at him, and Peter was crushed.  Now, he would have to live with that awful action forever.

            The mood in the room was somber and hopeless.  All day they wrestled with their thoughts while ignoring the sounds of cheerful crowds celebrating the Passover in the city.  No one ate.  They just sat in unhappy silence.  What had gone wrong?  Why had Judas betrayed Jesus—actually all of them—for some silver?  What a coward he was!  At least he was out of his agony while theirs continued.  Finally, they drifted off into fitful sleep with nightmares disturbing each one.  Even sleep gave no relief to their distress.

            At sunrise, loud knocks echoed across the room as the disciples fearfully stared at each other and the locked door.  What should they do?  The insistent knocks continued and excited female voices implored them to open the door.  With trepidation, Peter cautiously opened the door and peered outside.  In the dim light, he saw Mary Magdala, Mary the mother of James, Salome, and Joanna.  With wide smiles and shining eyes, they all began talking at once.  “Come quickly!  Jesus has risen just as He said.”

            The despondent men stared at the women in disbelief. 

             “How could that be?” asked one.

            “ Was it really true or was it just a trap to get them out of hiding?”  questioned another.

              Impulsive Peter waited no longer.  He bounded from the room and ran quickly to the garden and the tomb with his heart pounding.  “It is true!  Jesus was resurrected just as He said.  He is truly the Son of God.  It is not over!”  When he bent over to look into the tomb, he saw the linen strips lying on the cold slab.  His despair had turned into exhilaration.  His mourning was transformed into joy.  No longer would they hide in the city, but they must go immediately to Galilee.  The angel told him that Jesus would meet  the disciples there.  When Peter was rushing to tell the other disciples, he was thinking of all of the questions that he would ask Jesus.  It was not over. 

            He is risen.  He is risen indeed.

            When I was a child, Easter was an exciting time with a bright new dress, new white shoes, a matching purse, and short white gloves.  It was also a time of hope as the dreary winter blossomed into spring.  Some years in Indiana it was warm on Easter, but sometimes it was still cold and gloomy.  Nevertheless, the mood was jubilant as we gathered colorful eggs, nibbled chocolate eggs and marshmallow bunnies from our Easter baskets and then at church sang beautiful uplifting hymns because Jesus had risen.  I knew a little about the events leading up to the crucifixion but not the gory, horrific details so Easter was a happy event to me. 

            As an adult, I have read repeatedly the four accounts of Holy Week in the gospels and watched movies portraying the story—especially “The Passion of the Christ”—which graphically exposed the horrible events.  The sites that I visited in Jerusalem also made his suffering even more real to me.  I stood high on the Mt. of Olives and then descended into the black dungeon where prisoners were held.  After only a few days, Jesus went from receiving joyful praise to being thrown into a detestable pit.  Exuberant throngs surrounded Him when He entered the city, but He stood alone in front of Pilate and Herod.  Battered and bruised He was flung into the hideous dungeon to await the morning.  His arms were shackled and attached to the wall as He waited—alone.  When I stood in that degrading place, tears streamed down my face as I realized the agony that He had endured because of me.  As terrible as the pit was, that was not the end.  Jesus was drug out, handed the beam of a cross and forced to walk to His execution.  Step by painful step the condemned struggled to reach the end.   

            A guide in Jerusalem told our group that crucifixions took place along the Roman roads not high on a hill.  The officials wanted the sight of terrible punishment to be a deterrent for crime and insurrections against the government.  Did the thousands of people passing by ignore the gruesome sight?  Did they continue to laugh and talk with their friends as Jesus struggled to breathe?  Were they so accustomed to death that it no longer even mattered?  Did they feel guilty for not supporting Him?  Did they feel disappointed because their king was not freeing them?  Did they bother to read the sign above His head that said King of the Jews?  A few faithful were mentioned in the gospels as remaining near Him to the end.  John was there with some of the women who were close to Him.  Where were the other disciples?  Where were all of those that He had healed?  Where were the thousands that He had fed both physically and spiritually?  As He was weak and dying He said, “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.”  Was He only speaking about those who put Him to death or for those who abandoned Him?  Was He only speaking about those long ago or are His words for us too?

               Alan and I spent much time exploring the Old City of Jerusalem-meandering down the narrow passageways.  Each of the four sectors–Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Armenian–was unique.  Some areas were newer, cleaner, and more open while others were older, dingy, and very narrow.  Often as we strolled the streets, crowds pushed through as locals shopped, and tourists eyed the unusual and interesting items and sites. 

            One day as we roamed in the Muslim quarter, we suddenly noticed throngs of people pouring into the streets as we were pushed along by the rush of Muslims leaving a special service at the mosque.  I grabbed onto Alan’s shirt so that we would not be separated as the mass of people edged forward.  Only a few women and children were interspersed among the men.  For several minutes, the mass of humanity moved as one.  Finally, we reached a wider section where we were able to break away from the group.              As we were jostled and hemmed in by the crowd, I thought of the multitudes jamming the streets of Jerusalem during the Passover when Jesus entered the city before His crucifixion.  Everyone would have been swept up and pushed along.  It would have been difficult to separate from the crowd.  When He was praised on His entry into the city, was it just convenient to join in with the happy crowd?  Did they all have a true commitment to Him?  When the mob turned hostile, was it easier to remain with the crowd for protection instead of venturing away?  It is impossible to know the thoughts and motives of those who were there.  However, we can examine our own hearts and actions.  Do we have a genuine commitment or do we also follow the crowd because it is easier and safer?  We are quick to judge those who yelled “Crucify Him”, but would we have reacted any differently?     

            Olive trees thousands of years old greeted us as we approached the Garden of Gethsemane.  Their trunks were huge and gnarled.  A fence encircled the garden so that visitors could appreciate it without damaging the area.  Lovely pink roses tucked around the trees radiated their beauty while a panorama of the Old City spread before our eyes.  Adjacent to the garden was a church commemorating the holy site and built around the rock that tradition says is where Jesus prayed.  Visitors knelt at the rock, caressed its surface, and remembered the agony of Jesus as He prayed on the night that He was betrayed.  Our group was escorted into a special section near the rock where we sang hymns and prayed silently.  The dim church with its quiet reverence was a perfect place to remember the pain and suffering that Jesus endured for us.

            I pictured Jesus in the dark, peaceful garden overlooking the city.  Only a few tiny, twinkling lights glittered in the black night.  Jesus told the disciples to pray that they would not fall into temptation.  Taking Peter, James, and John with Him, he strode away from the group to pray intently.  While He agonized and pleaded with God to remove the cup, the disciples slept.  They did not mean to abandon Him.  They did not mean to ignore His obvious pain, but they did not fully grasp what was transpiring.  Even when they disappointed Him, he forgave them just as He forgives us. 

    While winding around the Old City, we encountered young Israeli soldiers near metal detectors.  After proceeding through the detectors, we were directly in front of the imposing Western Wall which dwarfed those who were streaming up to it.  Jewish men were on the left as they approached the wall that was sacred to them.  Women were on the right so I joined others from our group as we quietly ventured to the wall.  Some women sat in plastic chairs, some stood, and others rocked back and forth.  They read quietly, chanted softly, or wept loudly.  Each was lost in her own worship.  When I got close, I could see scraps of paper jammed into the cracks of the wall as high as the women could reach.  They believed that if their prayers were written on the papers and left there, that God would answer their requests.  As the women left the wall, they walked backwards so that they would not turn their backs on God and the wall. 

            Jesus also had to pass soldiers in Jerusalem when He went to the temple and endure crowds of people.   They gathered to listen intently to Jesus teach but later many of them turned their backs on Him and rejected Him.  While we do not walk out of church backwards and do not usually openly renounce Him, we do it more subtly.  We fail to stand up for Him when we hear someone take His name in vain.  We ignore His command to “love your brother as yourself” when we gossip, refuse to forgive someone who has hurt us, or put down someone who is different from us.  We want to think that we would not have joined the crowd in yelling, “Crucify Him!”  We hope that we would have stayed by Him even at the cross but would we?  As we go through the events of Holy Week, it can be a time for us to reflect and search our hearts.

            Standing near the Mount of Olives, I looked down over the Old City of Jerusalem which was surrounded by an ancient wall.  Jesus and His disciples had stood in the same area as they gazed out over the city.  Long ago thousands of Jews were streaming into the city in anticipation of Passover.  With excitement and praise, people threw down their cloaks and branches on the path in front of Jesus as He rode the young colt down the hill.  News of His teachings and miracles incited the pilgrims to follow Him.  They thought that He would rescue them from the harsh Roman government. 

            Even though our trek was down the same route, the walk was quite different.  Streets had been built from the top down the hill between hundreds of graves.  Mourners stood beside several graves-grieving for their loved ones.  Cars traveled down the narrow roads causing our group to press against the walled sides.  Our journey stopped at the foot of the hill where a busy street crossed our path.  We could see the gates to the city but could not enter at that point.  Some in our group had difficulty making the trip, some stumbled and almost fell as we made our way to the bottom.

            Even though joyful pilgrims greeted Jesus, their journey was also filled with obstacles.  Was the journey too steep and rocky?  Did they complain about aching feet?  Did they get pushed and shoved by the intense crowd?  Did they understand the significance of Jesus’ entry or were they just caught up in the excitement?

            As we follow Jesus in our daily lives, we often start out excited and full of joy, but our struggles cause us to stumble.  The crowds push us back and knock us down.  We become discouraged and want to give up.  Jesus knew that the exuberance of the crowds would soon fade, but He did not stop.  Just as He traveled with the pilgrims then, He leads us now down the rocky, road to Jerusalem.