Meditations for Holy Week

Reproach hath broken My heart;
And I am full of heaviness:
And I looked for some to take pity, but there was none;
And for comforters, but I found none.
They gave Me also gall for My meat;
And in My thirst they gave Me vinegar to drink.

—Offertory Verse for Palmarum

The Church has entered its most Holy Week. The liturgy is incredibly stark, our worship markedly solemn, and the cross of Christ is unmistakably before our eyes. The gradual simplification of the liturgy, which has characterized the Church’s Lenten journey, gives way to a remarkably rich celebration of our Lord’s Passion.

The ancient liturgical propriety of the Church offers far more richness than many liturgical observances of our Lord’s Passion today. The liturgy, in a sense, was far fuller. Even as it was gradually simplified, it nevertheless proclaimed louder and fuller the Passion of our Lord and the centrality of the Gospel which we find in Holy Week.

Between beautiful Introits, stunning Tracts, and remarkable Verses to be sung throughout the liturgy, the Church possesses no shortage of liturgical grandeur with which to meditate on the sacred treasure of Christ’s Passion.¹ While our celebration of the liturgy, especially amid the solemnity of Holy Week, is greatly subdued, nevertheless we find the truest and most beautiful proclamation of the Gospel throughout Holy Week—and we have a far steadier ground on which to meditate. Consider how these liturgical elements, even in their subdued nature, provide immense comfort and clarity in our solemn keeping of Christ’s Passion.

O Lord, deal not with us after our sins;
Nor reward us according to our iniquities.
O Lord, remember not against us former iniquities:
Let Thy tender mercies speedily prevent us:
For we are brought very low.
Help us, O God of our salvation,
For the glory of Thy name, and deliver us, O Lord,
And purge away our sins, for Thy name’s sake.

—Tract for Monday in Holy Week

MEDITATION I

The greatest confrontation Christians must make is the weight of our sin. The pain of Holy Week is not only embodied in the lifeless corpse of the Godman, but the necessity of the Incarnate Godhead to die for us. His cross, His wounds, His death were ours. In a beautiful and eternal exchange, Christ put on human flesh, in order that our sin and trespasses would be transferred to Him, on account of which He would suffer and die. His suffering should not have been His own!

The bitter cross on which He hung was ours to take.
The final breath He yielded on the cross was ours to make.
The lonesome depths of Hell were ours in which to wake.

Jesus Christ is the propitiation for our sin. His suffering and death were not His to endure, yet on account of His Passion we have life, forgiveness, and salvation. He makes full and perfect atonement for the sins of the world. He is the God of our salvation. He makes all things new through the sweat of His brow and the blood of His cross. The gift of new life is ours.

The Father remembers us not according to our iniquities, but according to His steadfast love. The Father preferred our salvation over the life of His Son. In no sense did the Father forsake His only-begotten Son, but rather in a divine Trinitarian mystery the undivided will of God desired that our salvation be won by the deliverance of the Son of God to death.

God’s will is done—and salvation is won—to His glory alone. Our sin God purges away—and for us God has made a way—for His name’s sake. We have been delivered from death—for indeed the Savior yielded on the cross His final breath—on account of His grace and mercy. Through the Savior’s strife, we have new life.

— — —

After this, Jesus knowing that all things were now accomplished.

That is, that nothing was wanting to the Dispensation. For He was everywhere desirous to show, that this Death was of a new kind, if indeed the whole lay in the power of the Person dying, and death came not on the Body before He willed it; and He willed it after He had fulfilled all things. Therefore also He said, I have power to lay down My life; and I have power to take it again (John 10:18). Knowing therefore that all things were fulfilled, He says,

I thirst.

Here again fulfilling a prophecy. But consider, I pray, the accursed nature of the bystanders. Though we have ten thousand enemies, and have suffered intolerable things at their hands, yet when we see them perishing, we relent; but they did not even so make peace with Him, nor were tamed by what they saw, but rather became more savage, and increased their irony; and having brought to Him vinegar on a sponge, as men bring it to the condemned, thus they gave Him to drink; since it is on this account that the hyssop is added.

Having therefore received it, He says, It is finished.

Do you see how He does all things calmly, and with power? And what follows shows this. For when all had been completed,

He bowed His head, (this had not been nailed,) and gave up the ghost.

That is, died. Yet to expire does not come after the bowing the head; but here, on the contrary, it does. For He did not, when He had expired, bow His head, as happens with us, but when He had bent His head, then He expired. By all which things the Evangelist has shown, that He was Lord of all.

—St. John Chrysostom, On the Crucifixion of Christ, “Exegesis on the Gospel of John, 19:16–20:1.”

Indeed, this man was the Lord of all. Certainly, Christ is the Lord of all.

Plead my cause, O LORD, with them that strive with me:
Fight against them that fight against me.
Take hold of shield and buckler,
And stand up for mine help.
But as for me, when they were troublesome to me,
My clothing was sackcloth:
I humbled my soul with fasting;
And my prayer returned into mine own bosom.

—Psalm 35:1–2, Psalm 35:13, Gradual and Gradual Verse for Tuesday in Holy Week

MEDITATION II

We feel the crushing weight of our Savior’s Passion. It is brought to realization in us by faith. The Passion is not an element of the Christian life; rather, it is the sum and substance. Faith rests on Christ’s suffering and death. The lifeblood of faith is Christ’s suffering and death. By faith we reap the innumerable benefits of Christ’s Passion, yet by faith we also confront the ugly reality of our Savior’s pain—that He, perfect God and perfect Man, suffered and died for poor, miserable sinners.

He died for us.

Throughout the Lenten season, many Christians practice restraint and self-denial. Some fasted, others increased devotion. Most churches gathered more frequently to receive the gifts of Word and Sacrament. Such Lenten piety is food for the soul and nourishment for the faith. We are not only reminded of our Lord’s self-denial, even in His humiliated state as our Suffering Servant, but also of His active restraint in the wilderness, which He endured on our behalf.

He was tempted for us.

Similarly, Christ prayed earnestly in the Garden. The cup of woe was His to share, though He petitioned His heavenly Father to take the cup from Him. We, too, find in our Lord’s earnest prayer an example, that by faith we may approach our heavenly Father and ask of Him all that we need. We by faith receive God’s good and gracious gifts. Our heavenly Father answers us, just as He answered His only-begotten Son, Jesus Christ our Lord.

He prayed for us.

From Christ we also receive a humbler and greater message: the cup God places before us is ours to take. Our Lord prayed that the cup of woe would be removed from Him. His will, perfectly aligned with the Father’s divine will, was content to be betrayed, to suffer, and to die. His example is not one of denial. He would not be content to act apart from the Father’s will. Yet we find in the Savior’s agonizing prayer a denial of self. Out of love the Son prayed, and out of love the Father answered. The cup of woe would not be taken from Him.

He suffered for us.

We are at war against the world. Incessantly, with the soldiers and multitudes, the world mocks our Savior. “How can this Man be the Son of God?” Does our God suffer and die? Does the almighty and all-powerful Godman content Himself to betrayal and death? O Lord, what have You done! Indeed, the Father has given up His Son. For us the Son sacrifices Himself on the cross. Not having spurned the Virgin’s womb, He takes our flesh. Becoming obedient unto death, He takes our sin and shame. Desiring our salvation, He dies. The Son has pleaded our cause in His earnestness of prayer. Ever in mind were His precious sheep, for whom He suffered. He bore and griefs and carried our sorrows. He is our ever-present help. He is our shield and buckler. For this is He who is our Savior.

He died for us.

— — —

Sackcloth, haply He calleth His mortal flesh. Wherefore Sackcloth? For the likeness of sinful flesh. For the Apostle saith, "God sent His Son in the likeness of sinful flesh, that through sin He might condemn sin in the flesh:" that is, He clothed His Own Son with sackcloth, that through sackcloth He might condemn the goats. Not that there was sin, I say not in the Word of God, but not even in that Holy Soul and Mind of a Man, which the Word and Wisdom of God had so joined to Himself as to be One Person. Nay, nor even in His very Body was any sin, but the likeness of sinful flesh there was in the Lord; because death is not but by sin, and surely that Body was mortal. For had It not been mortal, It had not died; had It not died, It had not risen again; had It not risen again, It had not showed us an example of eternal life.

So then death, which is caused by sin, is called sin; as we say the Greek tongue, the Latin tongue, meaning not the very member of flesh, but that which is done by the member of flesh. For the tongue in our members is one among others, as the eyes, nose, ears, and the rest: but the Greek tongue is Greek words, not that the tongue is words, but that words are by the tongue. ...So then the sin of the Lord is that which was caused by sin; because He assumed flesh, of the same lump which had deserved death by sin. For to speak more briefly, Mary who was of Adam died for sin, Adam died for sin, and the Flesh of the Lord which was of Mary died to put away sin. With this sackcloth the Lord clothed Himself, and therefore was He not known, because He lay hid under sackcloth. "When they," saith He, "troubled Me, I clothed Myself with sackcloth:" that is, they raged, I lay hid.

For had He not willed to lie hid neither could He have died, since in one moment of time one drop only of His Power, if indeed it is to be called a drop, He put forth, when they wished to seize Him, and at His one question, "Whom seek ye?" they all went back and fell to the ground. Such power could He not have humbled in passion, if He had not lain hid under sackcloth.

—St. Augustine of Hippo, Commentary on Psalm 35

In perfect humility and sacred love, our Lord confers to our mortal flesh the gift of life everlasting.

Hear my prayer, O LORD,
And let my cry come unto Thee.
At the name of Jesus every knee shall bow,
Of things in heaven, and things in earth, and things under the earth;
For He became obedient unto death,
Even the death of the cross.
Wherefore, Jesus Christ is Lord,
To the glory of God the Father.

—Psalm 102:1, Philippians 2:10, 8b, 11b, Introit and Introit Verse for Wednesday in Holy Week

MEDITATION III

The King of glory stooped low to be the Savior of mankind. How marvelous a King He was—the earth was held in His hand. The heavenly bodies spun according to His design, and so also our lives are sustained by His everlasting love. Under His domain are all things: heaven, earth, and all that is in them. Control over all things He possesses. The heavenly throne is His.

Yet the vesture of humanity became His throne. Leaving His throne at the Father’s right hand, Christ assumed a different throne. This Man is God, yet this Man is also Man. On God’s throne man dare not sit, nor in His eternal courts does man dare dwell. Yet God becomes Man. No greater gift, then, could man inherit but that the cross is Christ’s throne of eternity. For while He sits again at the Father’s right hand, nevertheless our salvation is won by the blood of His cross. All that Christ does points to His throne of wood. How great a throne it is, yet how terrible a sight.

The throne of a king is his splendrous seat. It is the exalted jewel from which his reign is enacted and on which his power is made manifest. Oh, but the cross! How might a king be brought to such an ugly throne? How dare a King—the King of glory!—content Himself with such a pitiful seat. Does He not respect Himself? Would a King be caught dead on such a wretched throne?

Our Lord certainly would—and He was, for on this throne of wood He died.

To become obedient unto death is no small task for a king, no less the Godman. To sit on such a wretched throne is no ordinary thing. Yet our King of glory does so gladly, humbly, and joyfully. The suffering is His pleasure, the pain His gladness. To Him every knee knelt in derision on Good Friday. At His name every head bowed in mockery. Over His death tears were shed in vitriol. Yet Christ brought Himself under obedience to death.

Man became obedient to death out of invariable consequence. Our submission to death comes by necessity. We rebelled, and the inevitable punishment is death. Our Lord became obedient to death out of love. His submission to death comes by His perfect and immovable will. We rebelled, and God’s gift to us is life.

At the name of Jesus every knee shall bow, and every tongue will confess Him God and Lord. We all come before Him, even as He sit on His sanguine throne. We all bow at His name, even as His name is written above His thorn-crowned head in contempt. We bless the works of His hands, even as they are flung against the wood of the cross. The glory is His—and the glory is ours. His the final breath, and ours the breath of everlasting life. This Jesus does to the Father’s glory. Our obedient King subdues death under His feet. That to which Christ had become obedient no lies in subjugation to our eternal King.

— — —

“The glory of the Father is that the human race not only was created but was recreated when lost. It was given life once again when dead, so as to become a renewed temple of God. For the powers in heaven also, the angels and the archangels, worship him and now worship the Lord “in the name of Jesus.”

This joy and exaltation belongs to human beings, because the Son of God, having himself become a human being, is now worshiped. The heavenly powers are not offended when they behold all of us being led into our heavenly abode as we share in his body. This could not have happened in any other way.

It happened only because, “being in the form of God and taking the form of a slave, he humbled himself,” agreeing to assume our bodily condition “even to death.””

—Athanasius of Alexandria, Commentary on Philippians 2

The poor in spirit now worship their humble King, the King of glory.

The right hand of the LORD is exalted;
The right hand of the LORD doeth valiantly.
I shall not die, but live,
And declare the works of the LORD.

—Psalm 118:16–17, Offertory Verse for Maundy Thursday

MEDITATION IV

The wages of sin is death. Everyone born in the flesh will die. Death is unnatural, and yet it seems that the understanding and experience of death comes naturally. We feel its pain and bear its burden. It becomes the natural recourse—and ultimate demise—of this life. Death has become our portion.

God’s design did not include the capacity to die. How, then, are we to die? Why must we die? For in the love of God we find grace and peace, yet through the ability to love we necessarily received the ability to fall. It is not God’s intent that we fall. Neither Creation nor God’s will necessitated our demise, for both are perfect. We chose, by our own volition, to fall. We rejected God. Death was imposed on us by the very nature we took upon ourselves in the Fall.

Thus, in death, we receive the just reward for our sin.

All men must die—until the return of our Humble King. Yet the death of this King was not necessary in itself. He is eternal. He is almighty. He is all-powerful. Had God not died on the cross, power and everlasting glory would remain His. Had God not died on the cross, however, suffering and everlasting death would remain ours. It is necessary that we die, but it is not so for our eternal King.

Yet our King died for us. He saw in us the wretched state of sinfulness and sought to uphold our timid spirits will the joy of His salvation. For He desires to work valiantly among us, bestowing on us His good and gracious gifts. The hand of the Lord does valiantly when He receive His grace and forgiveness in the Sacrament. His hand is exalted when we are brought to His throne—rather, when His throne is brought to us and we partake of His glory. The great working of our God rests in His gracious offering of His Son to us, which is bestowed on us in the glorious Sacraments.

Thus, in the Eucharist, we receive the undeserved gift of life and salvation.

By God’s grace, while we possess the ability to fall, even greater is our ability, on account of Christ, to be saved. This ability we do not possess of our own accord. Our heavenly Father has granted it to us by grace. Saved, indeed, we are, for the Lord has sacrificed Himself on the cross. Such is the valiant work of His hands. The work of His hand is exalted.

So, too, we are exalted when God’s humility is gifted to us in the Eucharist. His grace and mercy are not merely abstractions; they become tangible realities in the Eucharist. We not only know of God’s grace, but in the Eucharist we receive it. We not only hear of God’s love, but are genuinely assured of our salvation. Salvation is not only spoken, but conferred when God wills it to be so in the Sacraments.

We shall not die. We shall live.

— — —

Et accepto pane gratias egit, et fregit, et dedit eis, dicens:
Hoc est corpus meum, quod pro vobis datur:
Hoc facite in meam commemorationem.

Similiter et calicem, postquam coenavit, dicens:
Hic est calix novum testamentum in sanguine meo, qui pro vobis fundetur.

— — —

[And He took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to them, saying,
“This is My body which is given for you;
Do this in remembrance of Me.”

Likewise He also took the cup after supper, saying,
“This cup is the new covenant in My blood, which is shed for you.]

—Luke 22:19-20, Vulgate and NKJV

Do this in remembrance of Him. We declare the greatness of His works.

Deliver me, O LORD, from the evil man:
Preserve me from the violent man;
Which imagine mischiefs in their heart;
Continually are they gathered together for war.

They have sharpened their tongues like a serpent;
Adders’ poison is under their lips.
Keep me, O LORD, from the hands of the wicked;
Preserve me from the violent man;
Who have purposed to overthrow my goings.
The proud have hid a snare for me, and cords;
They have spread a net by the wayside;
They have set gins for me.

I said unto the LORD,
Thou art my God: hear the voice of my supplications, O LORD.
O GOD the Lord, the strength of my salvation,
Thou hast covered my head in the day of battle.
Grant not, O LORD, the desires of the wicked:
Further not his wicked device; lest they exalt themselves.

As for the head of those that compass me about,
Let the mischief of their own lips cover them.
Surely the righteous shall give thanks unto Thy name:
The upright shall dwell in Thy presence.

—Psalm 140:1–9, 13, a Tract for Good Friday

MEDITATION V

Christ suffered. He died. Now, He is buried. Perfect God and Perfect Man has died for us. No greater meditation could we bestow on such a gift than that gift itself.

The Father’s will—salvation and all—is done.

— — —

1. O darkest woe!
Ye tears, forth flow!
Has earth so sad a wonder?
God the Father's only Son
Now is buried yonder.

2. O sorrow dread!
God's Son is dead!
But by His expiation
Of our guilt upon the cross
Gained for us salvation.

3. O sinful man!
It was the ban
Of death on thee that brought Him
Down to suffer for thy sins
And such woe hath wrought Him.

4. Lo, stained with blood,
The Lamb of God,
The Bridegroom, lies before thee,
Pouring out His life that He
May life restore thee.

5. O Ground of faith,
Laid low in death.
Sweet lips. now silent sleeping!
Surely all that live must mourn
Here with bitter weeping.

6. Oh. blest shall be
Eternally
Who oft in faith will ponder
Why the glorious Prince of Life
Should be buried yonder.

7. O Jesus blest,
My Help and Rest
With tears I now entreat Thee:
Make me love Thee to the last,
Till in heaven I greet Thee!

— “O Darkest Woe,” TLH 167

1. During seasons in which the Alleluias are not sung prior to the Gospel, Tracts take their place. They are short “hymns” that orient our hearts and minds to the Gospel. Tracts may also be appointed for Feasts and Festivals, even if they fall in seasons in which the Alleluias are not omitted.

Similarly, modern liturgical conventions have dispensed of Verses. A Verse is sung at various points in the liturgy, and serve as intonations. They indicate a change or shift in thr liturgy. Verses have traditionally been appointed to be sung before the Offertory and before the Distribution at Holy Communion.