If I had been there, where would I have been? Holy Week is upon us. Again I find myself rereading each Gospel account from the triumphal entry through to the end. The way they are told brings us right into the middle of the story from various vantage points. We almost get to see through the eyes of those witnesses of the Passion of Christ. So, where would I have been?

Right now, I’m writing this sitting in my small apartment here in Paris. I’m in a city that is always abuzz with things to do. Most weeks pass by without me looking for the next exciting thing. I am quite content sitting here. Would I have heard the news of Jesus arriving and been moved to go and see Him? Of all we remember this week, this is the moment that I would most likely have been a part of. If I could believe what I had heard about Jesus in passing, I would have probably thought of Him as a blessing and a good teacher. Maybe a faint glimmer of hope in my gut would hold onto the idea that maybe He might be the one to overthrow our Roman oppressors. That might be enough for me to go welcome Him and to try to see him with my own eyes.

The rest of the week and the Passion would probably happen beyond my view or concern. I would likely hear about it as broken and incomplete gossip over the days to come. If I saw Jesus teaching again after the resurrection, I hope that I would recognize him from Palm Sunday. Yet, I do forget faces I only see in passing. Yet, one of the things I love about Jesus is that He pursues us. God came down to earth from heaven. The Emmanuel was born like me so that I could be born like Him. Even though I would have missed Him, Jesus already knew my name and my story. In and through all things there has forever been a God who did all that I could not.

Before I let myself be enraptured in the joy of Easter, this week I must look clearly at myself sitting alone in my small apartment. I am not the center of the story. I lack the faith to believe heaven has come to earth and dwells among us. I am deeply aware of so many ways that I am not like Jesus.

Lord, help me see and feel who I am in this moment. May you bless me to touch and hold as much of my brokenness and shortcomings as I can bear. Let me be overwhelmed by the vastness of Your grace, mercy, and love that exists in and between these spaces within me. Hold me here through the darkness of this week and do not lose me. That come Easter morning, I might join the psalmist in proclaiming.

Psalm 31 
3Since You are my rock and fortress, * 
	lead and guide me for the sake of Your name. 
4Spare me from the trap they laid for me in secret, * 
	for You are my protector. 
5Into Your hands I entrust my spirit, *
	for You have redeemed me, LORD, God of truth. 
6I hate those clinging to worthless idols, *
	for me, I trust in the LORD.

May you find in yourself the sustaining grace of Christ.