Imagine you find John that Friday night, on a Judean hillside, by himself, in the dark, warming himself by a small fire. It is here that John pours out his story.
Foreword: Welcome to the week before Jesus’ Resurrection. It’s called Holy Week because of all of the events surrounding the death, burial and resurrection of Christ.
The word “holy” means “set apart”—specifically set apart for God’s purposes. I wrote this primarily from John’s Gospel, but included bits from the other 3 Gospels as well.
For a number of years our family performed “Seven Days” live, with John telling his story, interspersed with music. So, this blog is based on that production. While we no longer perform it live, you can get a flavor for it with this promo video below.
As Easter approaches, I hope you can join me in John’s telling his story in my adaptation here of Seven Days.
Seven Days is a first-person account told by John the disciple. It is set on the night we call “Good Friday”, only hours after John has witnessed the brutal execution of his friend and teacher. Grief-stricken and in shock, John now reflects on Jesus and the amazing events of the past week, sharing his grief. In John’s mind, it’s over. Jesus is dead. He is gone.
We know the rest of the story: Sunday is coming. But for John, it is still two days before the resurrection.
“Can a week change your life? I have never seen a week like this—nor will I again I’m sure. Can a single day change the course of a life? It has mine.
My name is John, son of Zebedee.
It is Friday night. Just last sabbath we were at the home of Lazarus—the man that Jesus raised from the dead! We were sitting around the table enjoying a meal together when his sister poured out a bottle of incredibly expensive perfume on Jesus. It was her way of saying thank you to him for bringing her brother—who had been in the tomb for four days—back to life.
I can still smell it. Its fragrance filled the room.
We had such hopes that Jesus was the Promised One—the One the prophets spoke of. The one who would bring redemption to our nation. But that’s over now.
He was crucified today. He is gone.
I suppose I should explain. The whole matter started the first day of the week—Sunday—here in Jerusalem.
Sunday
It was the first day of a new week—a week filled with promise. Everything that Jesus did was amazing. For example, he sent two of us on an assignment. Here were our instructions. He said:
“Go into the village ahead, there you’ll find a young donkey tied to a post with his mother. Untie them and bring them to me. If anyone stops you, tell them: ‘The Lord has need of these.’”
So, we did. We went to the village, found the animals just as Jesus had said and began to untie them. One of the men in the village said “Hey! What are you doing with those animals?”
We said, “The Lord has need of them.”
And he said, “Okay. Go ahead.” So we did!
How did Jesus know this? And this wasn’t the first time that this has happened. This in itself was a miracle, but it was only the beginning of the week. So we brought the colt to Jesus. Since we had no saddle, we threw some of our own clothing across the colt’s back for Jesus to ride on. Then the crowds spread out their robes along the road ahead of him.
As we reached the place where the road started down to the city from the Mount of Olives, a huge crowd—the whole procession began to shout and sing as they walked along, praising God for the wonderful miracles Jesus had done. “God has given us a king!” they shouted. “Long live the king!” and “Glory to God.”
It was an amazing week!
These moments are etched into my memory. But as we came closer to Jerusalem and Jesus saw the city ahead, his expression changed. Tears filled his eyes, running down his cheeks.
“Eternal peace was within your reach, and you turned it down,” he wept, “and now it is too late. Your enemies will pile up earth against your walls, encircle you and close you in, and crush you to the ground—both you and your children within you. You enemies will not leave one stone upon another, for you have rejected the opportunity God offered you.”
Monday
The next morning we were on our way back to Jerusalem for the celebration, when we came to the village of Bethphage. None of us had eaten anything for breakfast, but there was a fig tree just ahead of us (although the tree was fruitless, because it wasn’t the right time of year for figs).
Jesus, being hungry as well, walked up to the tree and found no fruit. Annoyed, he said out loud for all of us to hear, “May you never bear fruit again.” As hungry as we were, we all felt the same way.
…but it then occurred to me that the name “Bethphage” means “House of Figs”—yet there were none…
When we arrived in the city, we went into the part of the Temple where the gentiles were allowed and found people everywhere selling things offered in the worship of God.
No one could come to worship at any festival unless they had the right kind of currency (the shekel, which was sold at a high exchange rate), or the right animal—and for some reason the ones brought from outside were never good enough. But there were things like this everywhere—barriers placed in the way of people coming to worship God.
And all of this financial gouging was going on inside the temple complex.
I could see fire in Jesus’ eyes! It was the same fire I saw two years ago at Passover as well. Now for the second time, Jesus stormed through the temple area. Driving out those who were buying and selling. He overturned the tables of the money changers, and those selling doves. He wouldn’t allow merchandise through the temple courts.
The only difference between then and now was that, this time, he didn’t have a whip.
He declared in a loud voice, “Isn’t it written that My house will be called a house of prayer for all nations? But you have made it a den of thieves!”
The religious authorities heard this. And though they feared him, it was here that they began looking for a way to have him put to death.
Still, the crowd was amazed at his teaching. It was an amazing week.
When evening came, we left the city and stayed overnight again with Lazarus and his family in Bethany.”
Bill Herried is a pastor at CenterPoint Church in Tacoma, Washington and is married to the most extraordinary woman on the planet. Together they have 3 adult children and 4 grandchildren. He has been the lead pastor at CenterPoint Christian Fellowship in Tacoma since 2006. He has an undergraduate degree from the University of Washington in Seattle, and Master of Divinity from Corban University in Salem, Oregon—and he loves a good biryani.
Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay
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