The Triduum ends on Easter Sunday evening.  We then begin the seven-week Easter season which lasts through Pentecost Sunday (May 27).

It is a season full of life.  In the northern hemisphere, it is springtime.  Rivers and streams come alive.  Trees sprout new leaves.  Flowers blossom.  Birds sing.

The calendar is full – First Communion, Mother’s Day, graduations, weekend trips.

The Church says to us, “This is the perfect time of the year to celebrate life – a life that lasts forever.  Enjoy!  Let there be a 50-day festival.  Let the Paschal Candle, lit from the Easter fire, burn brightly these days.  Catch the spirit in the air and let it remind you of the Holy Spirit within you.”

Two “resolutions” are in order.  The first is not to miss out on the Easter season.  It lasts to days.  We need to catch the spirit of this season and let the good news sink in: Death has been conquered.

Second, through this Little Black Book we’ve been experiencing one of our oldest traditions of prayer called “Lectio Divina” – holy reading.  We’ve spent six minutes a day with the Lord and listened to him speak to us personally through the words of Scripture.  We’ve each found our own way of doing this.  We need to keep it going the whole year round.

It all began in a garden.

Listen to John’s Gospel as Jesus leaves the upper room to begin his passion and death: "When Jesus had said this, he went out with his disciples across the laceName w:st="on">KidronlaceName> laceType w:st="on">ValleylaceType> to where there was a garden, into which he and his disciples entered." (Jn 18:1)

This is the garden where Jesus would pray a sorrowful prayer, be betrayed by one of his own, and arrested by enemies.  In this garden, his disciples would abandon him.

It all began in a garden… and it all ended there too.  Listen to John as Jesus’ body it taken to the grave: "Now in the place where he had been crucified there was a garden, and in the garden a new tomb, in which no one had yet been buried.  So they placed Jesus there…" (Jn 19:41-42)

Not only is this the garden of burial, it is also the garden of new life.  This is the garden Mary Magdalene came to early Sunday morning.  After going to tell the disciples that the tomb was empty, she returned to this garden and stayed there alone.  It is here that the risen Lord appears to her.  She thought he was the gardener.

It fact, everything began in a garden: "Then the Lord God planted a garden in Eden, in the east, and he placed there the man whom he had formed." (Gen 2:8)

The laceType w:st="on">GardenlaceType> of laceName w:st="on">ParadiselaceName> is where it all began and where we shall all be again with the Lord.  Listen to the last chapter of Revelation, the Bible’s last words: "Then the angel showed me the river of life-giving water, sparkling like crystal, flowing from the throne of God.  On either side of the river grew the tree of life that produces fruit 12 times a year.  Night will bee no more, nor will they need light from lamp or sun, for the Lord God shall give them light, and they shall reign forever and ever.  Amen.  Come, Lord Jesus.  The grace of the Lord Jesus be with all."

The book of Deuteronomy stipulates: “If a man guilty of a capital offense is put to death and his corpse hung on a tree, it shall not remain on the tree overnight.  You shall bury it the same day.”

Joseph of Arimathea comes to see that this is done.  It’s interesting.  In the space of three sentences he arrives and departs, never to be heard from or spoken of again.  He’s somewhat like Simon of Cyrene, or the unnamed woman who anointed Jesus at the beginning of the Passion account.  They are front and center only briefly, and we know nothing about them before or after.

Each of us is created and placed here by God, at this particular time in history, in this particular place, and given a role by God that is given to no one else.

My life’s work may not appear in the history books.  But God uses a different book.

Holy Saturday is a good day for thoughts like that.  Sit there facing the tomb with Mary Magdalene and the other Mary, and see what thoughts come your way.

It is late Friday afternoon.  Jesus is dead.

Only the evening before he was at the Last Supper table celebrating the Passover with his disciples.

After supper, things began to go very, very bad.  One of the Twelve went off to betray Jesus.  All of them fled when he was arrested and they haven’t been seen since – except Peter, who returned only to deny Jesus three times.

The disciples will be seen just one more time on Matthew’s Gospel – after the resurrection – and it isn’t entirely laudatory:

The eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had ordered them.  When they saw him they worshipped, but they doubted.

That is their final appearance in Matthew’s Gospel.

By contrast, the women followers of Jesus are there when Jesus dies, and they are there when he is buried.

Faithful to the end.  May it be said of me when I die.

The death-resurrection of Jesus is the turning point of history.  During the three days of the Sacred Triduum (which begins this evening), I enter into the dying and rising of Jesus.  Let this be my prayer:

O God, as Jesus did in his dying, I place myself entirely in your hands, to live as you would have me live, to do what you would have me do.  I trust, as did your Son on the cross, that this is the path to life.

In his suffering and dying Jesus experienced the worst of human existence.  He went to the very bottom.  Total darkness.  Helpless.  Abandoned.

But he never abandoned hope.  And so… he “gave up his spirit” to God.

He did this for us, so that we could join him in going through death to life.

At Eucharist we can take the hopeless, helpless, dark parts of our lives, join him on the cross, and with him entrust it all to the Lord.

Jesus cried out the opening words of Psalm 22.  It begins on a note of desperation (“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”) and ends on a note of hope (“I will live for the Lord”).

Jesus grew up with psalms.  They were part of Jewish prayer, and Psalm 22 would easily come to the lips of a pious Jew in a time of distress.

Although he had not abandoned hope, Jesus felt abandoned.  And he told God so.  It helped Jesus get through the ordeal.

To be able to express our honest feelings to someone is a sign of a good relationship.

Any honest feelings I’ve been holding back from God?

The taunts of the passers-by (“If you are the Son of God … come down from the cross”) echo the words of the devil tempting Jesus in the desert (“If you are the Son of God, command that these stones become loaves of bread.”)

Demanding that God meet our criteria of what God should be like takes us nowhere.  For example, “If you are a good God, how come innocent people suffer so much?”

The problem of evil will never be solved this side of death.  Humans have tried since the beginning of time and we’re no closer to a solution than when we started.  Jesus did it right.  He trusted in God in spite of evil.

So, we do the only thing that makes sense.  We look at the cross.  Then we do what Jesus did on the cross.  We place ourselves entirely in God’s hands.

I enter Holy Week, saying that I will follow this king.  I know what kind of a king he is – a king who will lead me if necessary through suffering, and one day certainly through death.  I know that following this king is the path of life.

When I hold my palm branches, I say that I’m willing to follow this king.  I’m willing to be loving, forgiving… to respond to evil with goodness.  I’m willing to take the cross as my logo because Jesus showed us in his living, dying, and rising, that he is the way, the truth and the life.

We don’t casually pick up these palms.  We don’t lightly place them in our homes.  We do so knowing to what we are committing ourselves.

All four Gospels agree that the official charge posted against Jesus was his supposed claim to be “King of the Jews” – which made him a potential threat.

There are many ironies here.  First, “king” is a title Jesus refused, probably because it was so open to misunderstanding.

Second, from a Christian perspective, the charge is correct.  We honor “Christ the King,” though he is not the kind of king Pilate had in mind.

Third, they are executing Jesus to put an end to his supposed kingship… and Jesus becomes a king precisely through his death.

Two criminals flank Jesus on the cross – the “royal attendants” of this “king.”  Jesus was used to this kind of company.  He came for the “low life”… which is to say that he came for us sinners.

Now that’s my kind of king.