Monday of Holy Week feels strangely in-between. It’s just another day, and yet there’s a quiet weight of what is coming. Yesterday, there were palms and shouts of Hosanna. Today, the cheers have gone silent, and the tension begins to build. Jesus’s triumphal entry into Jerusalem is as one who sees clearly what lies ahead.
What was Jesus doing on this Monday?
The Gospels tell us he entered the temple and drove out those who were corrupting it as a place of worship, restoring a sacred space that had been overtaken by greed and profit. It’s a startling, “not like Jesus” scene. But this isn’t a loss of control; it’s forceful and focused. A refusal to let what is holy be diminished.
And then, just as intentionally, Jesus stops to heal and teach. He makes room again for prayer.
Jesus isn’t reacting—he’s revealing. Revealing what matters. Revealing the heart of God. Revealing what must be set right before anything new can come.
What do you suppose he was thinking? Perhaps he felt the weight of time pressing in. Every step, every word, every act, brought him closer to the cross. He knew the misunderstandings, the betrayals, and the pain coming. Yet he doesn’t withdraw. He leans in, reaching toward the broken, toward the corrupt systems, toward the very heart of what needs redemption.
Maybe he was thinking about faithfulness. Not success as the world defines it, or approval from the crowds. But the kind of faithfulness that comes from doing the will of God. Faithfulness that points others to truth.
And perhaps, too, he was thinking about us. About all the ways we clutter sacred spaces—especially in our hearts. Our tendency to turn worship into transaction, to replace trust with control, to settle for noise instead of presence.
And what about the disciples? They must have been confused. Maybe they felt a sense of unease, wondered if things were getting out of hand. Maybe they were caught up in a sense of denial … knowing what Jesus had told them was coming, but hoping for a different outcome.
They’re walking with him, but not fully seeing. And if we’re honest, we often stand right there with them. This Monday of Holy Week invites us into that same tension.
To walk with Jesus into the places we would rather avoid. To allow him to overturn what we have allowed to settle in our lives. To trust that his disruption is not destruction—but preparation.
Because before the cross…before the empty tomb…there is today. Tables overturned. Truth spoken. Hearts exposed. And Jesus, steady and resolute, moving forward…to the cross.
Prayer: Lord, as you walk through the crowded spaces of my life, give me the courage to let you get rid of what doesn’t belong. Quiet the noise I’ve grown used to. Restore in me a place for prayer, for truth, for your presence. And when I don’t understand what you are doing, help me to keep walking with you anyway. Amen.
