What Was Jesus Doing Each Day of Holy Week?
It’s sometimes confusing to figure out what happened in the days leading up to the death of Jesus.
We call the week leading up to Jesus’s death “Holy Week” or “Passion Week.” When Christians read the gospel accounts, however, sometimes we get confused sorting out what Jesus was doing each day of this special week.
But we are not the first to be confused, nor are we the first to attempt to harmonize the gospels stories; there are excellent resources available to us.
This week, I commend to you a series of videos from the publisher Crossway that explain what happened each day of the week. You can watch them here. They are fantastic. Also, below I’ve included a table I adapted from the ESV Study Bible (also produced by Crossway). If you don't have one of these study Bibles, you should. I give them away often.
May God richly bless you this week as you—along with millions of Christians throughout the world—savor the glory of the passion of Jesus Christ: his virtuous life, his sacrificial death, his victorious resurrection, and the promise of his glorious second coming.
Click to enlarge.
WHO IS JESUS by Greg Gilbert (FAN AND FLAME Book Reviews)
A book review of WHO IS JESUS? by Greg Gilbert, a helpful book for consideration of the most important question you’ll ever consider.
Greg Gilbert. Who is Jesus? (9Marks). Wheaton, Illinois: Crossway, 2015. 144 pp. $12.99.
Life is full of questions. Many of them, however, don’t really matter.
You want fries with that? Are we there yet?
But some questions do matter.
Honey, did you remember to get the kids from school? Any idea why I pulled you over today? Will you marry me?
In my own life, another question has been, and continues to be, very important.
Who is Jesus?
Greg Gilbert—a pastor in Louisville, Kentucky—agrees; that’s why he wrote a book with that title. In fact, Gilbert states that it is “the most important question you’ll ever consider” (23).
For many, however, this question seems, at best, irrelevant. For many, the thinking goes like this: “I’m sure Jesus was a great moral teacher and he helped people find their way, but he lived so long ago—what difference could Jesus possibly make to me?”
Rather than dismissing these sentiments altogether, Christians can certainly agree that Jesus’s fame is in stark contrast to many aspects of his life that ought to have made him historically obscure. Gilbert writes,
After all, we’re talking about a man who was born in the first century into an obscure Jewish carpenter’s family. He never held any political office, never ruled any nation, never commanded any armies. He never even met a Roman emperor. Instead, for three-and-a-half years this man Jesus simply taught people about ethics and spirituality, he read and explained the Jewish Scriptures to Jewish people… (15)
Christians and non-Christians alike can look at details such as these and wonder why anyone would even speak about Jesus today, let alone worship him.
But it’s interesting that Jesus didn’t think the question of his identity was irrelevant; he believed it mattered a great deal what others thought of him. In fact, in one of the gospel accounts, Jesus asked his followers this very question: “Who do you say that I am?” (Matthew 16:15). Jesus cared a great deal about what others thought about him because he believed great things were at stake for others in how they related to him. Jesus even believed an individual’s eternal destiny was contingent upon how he or she related to him (John 14:6).
But if when you hear this, you are inclined to dismiss it as “hype”—the over-inflated rhetoric so common in religious circles—then Gilbert’s book is for you. It’s not written primarily for those already convinced but for those with questions. This is obvious in several ways.
For starters, consider the way readers are addressed. Near the beginning, Gilbert writes, “Think about it: You probably have at least one or two acquaintances who would say that they are Christians” (16). The assumption, obviously, is that Gilberts understands that many of his readers will not already be deeply committed Christians involved in a local church where they would certainly have more than “one or two [Christian] acquaintances.”
Also, throughout the book Gilbert preemptively raises the kinds of questions that an interested skeptic might have. For example, questions about the Bible. Gilbert writes,
Now wait a second before you close this book! I know some people recoil when the Bible is mentioned because they think of it as “the Christians’ book,” and therefore they think it’s biased and useless for getting accurate information… (19)
Right after this quote, he goes on to make a superb defense for the relevance and reliability of the Bible, and he does so without stuffing the prose with confusing, technical terms. Never does he refer to the “perspicuity” of Scripture, which is an unclear word that actually means clarity. Nor in the book will you read the phrase “hypostatic union,” though the truth that Jesus was “fully God and fully human,” is in there. In other words, the book is accessible—not simplistic or childish, but accessible.
An additional strength of the book for non-Christians is that what the book does teach, it teaches in narrative. By this I mean that Gilbert unfolds the answer to “Who is Jesus?” in the same way the New Testament does—one story at a time. The effect is that we, the readers, are given the same vantage point as Jesus’s early followers. Gilbert writes,
We’re not going to work page by page through any one of the New Testament documents. Instead, we’re going to use all those sources to try to get to know Jesus in the same way that one who was following him might have experienced him—first as an extraordinary man who did wholly unexpected things, but then with the quickly dawning realization that “extraordinary” doesn’t even being to describe him… He was more than a teacher, more than a prophet, more than a revolutionary, even more than a king. As one of [Jesus’s followers] put it to him one night, “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God.” (21-22)
There are other ways this book will help non-Christians consider who Jesus is—such as its length (only 144 pages) and its balance between humor and urgency—but what if you are already a Christian? What’s in it for us?
If you are a Christian reading this review, which I suspect most are, you shouldn’t find the book boring. As a pastor, I didn’t. I even learned a few new things, but perhaps more importantly, I was re-confronted with the many things we tend to forget about Jesus—but shouldn’t. And if you’d like to go deeper with the book, there is a helpful study guide available as well. I could see great benefit in giving Who is Jesus? to a non-Christian friend with the hope of meeting for several weeks to discuss “the most important question [they’ll] ever consider” (23).
[Image]
The Lifeblood of Christianity
Just how important is the death of Jesus to our faith? Well, how important is blood to your body?
“The importance of the passion and resurrection for the early church is evidenced by the relatively large amount of space the narrative takes in each of the Gospels and especially in Mark. "Out of Mark’s 661 verses, 128 are devoted to the passion and resurrection account, and a total of 242 are devoted to the last week (from the triumphal entry to the resurrection) of Jesus is life.
"The church obviously had more than a passing historical interest in Jesus’ death and resurrection. These events formed the basis of the church’s witness and worship—the lifeblood of early Christianity.”
- Walter W. Wessel & Mark L. Strauss (commenting on the Gospel of Mark in Matthew and Mark, The Expositor’s Bible Commentary, 2010, vol. 9, pg. 936-7; emphasis added)
I Don’t Need a Boat, but Get Me a Boat
Here's a reason I keep reading the Bible. Again. And Again. And Again.
Jesus withdrew with the disciples to the sea, and a great crowd followed… And he [Jesus] told his disciples to have a boat ready for him because of the crowd, lest they crush him. (Mark 3:7, 9)
I take great comfort in the fact that Jesus does not need help doing anything—not mine or anyone else’s. Ever.
In the Old Testament, God says that if he was hungry—say, he wanted a sandwich or something—he wouldn’t ask for help (Psalm 50:12). When he created the world, the only “help” he got was within the Trinity. In the opening verses of Hebrews, the author notes that Jesus “upholds the universe by the word of his power.”
It doesn’t seem like God needs help.
In many ways, this is part of the litmus test of God-ness: If you need anything—food, water, sleep, praise, money, protection, love—then you are not God. If you don’t need, then you are God.
But then I read verses like Mark 3:9, and I take great comfort that Jesus wanted his disciples to help him. In this verse, because the crowd might actually have “crush[ed] him,” Jesus asks his disciples to get the escape boat ready.
Really? Why?
In Luke 4, a crowd wanted to toss Jesus over a cliff, and he just walked through them. I’ve never quite understand how that went down, but it happened. And if this crowd in Mark 3 got too lively, and Jesus needed to bail, then there was water right behind him. He could just walk away on that, right? Wouldn’t that save time and effort? Wouldn’t that even achieve the secondary purpose of showing his God-ness?
This is why, every day, I keep reading my Bible. I want to be tethered to it until I die.
In the Bible, I’m continually surprised—pleasantly surprised—by Jesus. I’ll learn one thing about him—say, he is God and doesn’t need anyone’s help—and then I learn something else—say, he desires the help and ministry of his friends.
I imagine it felt good for the disciples to be told to do something for Jesus, like get a boat ready. For most of those guys, it was in their wheelhouse. I bet they rushed off, their labors fueled with dignity—like EMTs with the sirens whirling: “Jesus needs a boat; let’s go, let’s go; come on, move it; the crowd could push him into the water.”
The tendency, in our human-ness, is to discount either God’s self-sufficiency or that our efforts matter to God. There is mystery, but somehow, these cohere. He is the God-man. And this gives my labors—our labors—for the kingdom meaning, value, and worth.
God doesn’t need my parenting, my preaching, my tithes and offerings, my “quiet time,” my evangelism. But he wants them.
Jesus needs another Christian to start another blog, like he needs a sandwich.
But if he asked me for one, I’d try to make him a good one—a toasted panini with double meat and feta cheese. I think he’d like that.
[Image]