I remember years ago going to church Easter week for the Maundy Thursday Lord's Supper. We were quiet in the car, each of us pondering the event we were commemorating. And there was deep silence as we entered the sanctuary. It was solemn and reflective. Sometimes the silences are the best part of a service.
It reminded me of a hike in the woods once when I came upon a small, dark pond, almost hidden under the canopy of green, guarded by sentinels of firs and pines. It was that kind of silence Thursday night at church -- a pause when everything else in the world seemed to cease its activity, just to stop and reflect upon the scene before us.
Chapter 1.
The Hebrews Going to Celebrate Passover
It was a quite different scene we would have witnessed in ancient times. When the Hebrews made their pilgrimage up to Jerusalem for the Passover, they would have been loud and joyous. As clusters of families and friends combined into groups and walked up the road they would have been singing psalms, greeting other bands ahead of them, and calling back to others coming up behind them.
Probably some would be playing instruments as they walked and sang. And likely the sounds of their joy would echo, again and again, over the hills and valleys of the Holy Land, reminding the pilgrims of the great event they were going to celebrate.
They had so much to sing about. So many reasons to rejoice. They were on their way to worship God "in the the beauty of His holiness." They would be celebrating His faithfulness and forgiveness to them.
Probably one group sang, "I rejoiced with those who said to me, 'Let us go the house of the Lord!'" Then another would respond, "Our feet are standing in your gates, O Jerusalem!" (Psalm 122:1-2)
"As the mountains surround Jerusalem, so the LORD surrounds His people, both now and forevermore!" (Psalm 125:2)
"The LORD has done great things for us, and we are filled with joy!" (Psalm 126:3)
"Those who trust in the LORD are like Mt. Zion, which cannot be shaken, but endures forever." (Psalm 125:1)
When they arrived in the Golden City, they would be dusty and tired, anxious to get "settled in," and then to get ready to start the festival.
Chapter 2.
Arriving at the Temple
When they entered the temple area they would be greeted with the lovely odors of meat cooking. I think about going to Disneyland, or a family 4th of July Bar-B-Q celebration. When we enter the park we start smelling FOOD --
at 9 AM we start feeling hungry -- how can it be? I'm never hungry at 9 AM? But seeing the crowds and smelling the food cooking invites memories of festival and celebration. And was there ever a celebration without food?
Chapter 3.
Our Passover
Our Easter festivities are joyful, too. But it is a different kind of joy.
When Easter Sunday came it was very foggy as we left for church. I imagined the women coming to Christ's tomb, leaving home in the darkness, weary and grieving, finding the tomb empty and being frightened by the angels who asked them why they would "look for the living among the dead?" And then "Remember how He told you....."
And they remembered and ran back to get the disciples.
Their Passover that year had not been the joyous occasion of previous years. But then Resurrection Sunday brought greater rejoicing than they had ever imagined.
Chapter 4.
Our Joy Is Different
Our experience when we celebrate the Lord's Supper at Easter-time is different from theirs because we are on the other side of the cross.
The ancient Jews knew God was redeeming them.
But we know how -- we know the cost. They were dancing (remember David before the Ark?) and singing and anticipating a festival with great crowds arriving in Jerusalem. They would never forget how God saved them from Egyptian bondage and brought them into the promised land. That's what they celebrated every year.
And we can never forget how Jesus became our sacrificial lamb and what it cost God to bring us into His kingdom.
C.S. Lewis compares this to a kind of "spiritual counterpoint." As a musical term
counterpoint refers to a composition by a brilliant musician who takes two distinctly different melodies, unrelated to each other, and yet when played together acquire a sublime unity.
(My favorite example of musical counterpoint is Bach's "Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring." Both melodies are distinct, and yet when played together -- on piano or organ, one played with the right hand and the other with the left -- as counterpoint, their celestial, spiraling harmonies soar heavenward to the glory of God Himself. I am truly haunted by this magical masterpiece.)
C. S. Lewis' Words on Spiritual Counterpoint
Probably no one else has ever expressed it this beautifully:
All Christians know something the Jews did not know about what it cost to redeem their souls. Christians are baptized into a death; our most joyous festival begins with, and centers upon, the broken body and shed blood. There is thus a tragic depth in our worship which Judaism lacked.
Our joy has to be the sort of joy which can coexist with that; there is for us a spiritual counterpoint, where they had the simple melody.
They had a simple melody -- now we have the whole masterpiece!
Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring
(English Text)
Jesu, joy of man's desiring,
Holy wisdom, love most bright.
Drawn by thee, our souls aspiring
Soar to uncreated light.
Word of God, our flesh that fashioned,
With the fire of life impassioned,
Striving still to truth unknown,
Soaring, dying round Thy throne.
Through the way where hope is guiding,
Hark, what peaceful music rings;
Where the flock, in Thee confiding,
Drink of joy from deathless springs.
Theirs is beauty's fairest pleasure;
Theirs is wisdom's holiest treasure,
Thou dost ever lead Thine own
In the love of joys unknown.
