Before the meditation begins: God’s happy April Fool’s Day to NWI – “You thought spring was here??? Welcome back to winter! Hahaha.”
And now, we get to the quiet before the breaking. The Gospels don’t give us details about what Jesus and the disciples did on this day. After the intensity of teaching and confrontation on Tuesday, the narrative slows. We shift away from public moments and move behind the scenes, where we’re left to speculate … and ponder.
It is a day of stillness, but it certainly can’t have been one of peace.
What was Jesus doing? Maybe he was resting. Not resting in the sense of trying to escape, but in the deliberate way of one who knows what’s coming and chooses not to rush ahead of it. Maybe, while in Bethany, he surrounds himself with friends, allowing himself to be distracted by the simple gift of the presence of loved ones. There would’ve been a familiar comfort in conversation and a shared meal.
I’m sure there was prayer. Jesus always turned to prayer when troubled, tired, or thankful. Prayer wasn’t only his compass, it was his refuge from the storm and the rock that kept him steady. He would need all of those things in his few remaining days.
If Monday was action and Tuesday was proclamation, Wednesday may have been the quiet strengthening of resolve.
Because even when nothing visible is happening, something essential often is.
What do you suppose he was thinking? Perhaps it was a day of sorrow, but I think not for himself. He might have been thinking of his disciples … the grief they were about to feel and the ways their lives would change. Their confusion and fear, and the faith that would give life to the church. He might have been thinking about the brokenness of the world that brought him to the cross, and the redemption that was to follow. He might have been thinking about you and me, and the cost of love.
And what about the disciples? This may have felt like a strange pause. Perhaps, after the encounters of the previous days, they were thankful for the quiet. But not all was calm beneath the surface. Because somewhere in the shadows, one of their own was making a decision. Judas was moving toward betrayal. The other disciples likely had no idea … but Jesus did.
Which makes this day even more difficult for us to understand. Because Jesus remains present. He doesn’t expose Judas publicly.
He doesn’t force the moment. He doesn’t draw attention to himself. He allows the story to unfold.
This Wednesday of Holy Week invites us into the quiet. Not a comfortable quiet, but an honest one.
The kind where we sit with what is unresolved in our lives. Where we look beneath the surface. Where we face the small choices that, over time, shape everything about us. Because, on days like today, Jesus meets us here. In the stillness. In the waiting. In the quiet before everything changes.
Prayer: Lord, meet me in the quiet places of my life and draw me closer to you. Give me the courage to be honest with you—and with myself—so that in these quiet moments, I may choose faithfulness over fear. Amen.
