Holy Week - Saturday Morning

The next morning our regular playtime was interrupted by commotion on the street in front of our house as neighbors and friends gathered. We ran to our second floor window and peering between the louvers saw a group of 20-some people marching down the street. As they drew closer I was able to make out wreaths on their heads and cloths covering their heads. They were shirtless and barefoot with but a skimpy pair of shorts on. Though out of the ordinary to see a group marching down our street like that, it wasn't until they'd passed us that the horror set in.

The skin of their bare backs, which normally would've been a light brown color, was rubbed raw red, bleeding. I can't remember if I had been mesmerized trying to figure out the identities of these men - was one of them my buddy's Dad? - or what, but I guess I hadn't at first noticed the chains they were carrying. I recall my brother and I, using tube socks as a substitute, marching around the house reenacting the scene we witnessed that Saturday morning. It took my parents explanation to understand why those men felt the need to flagellate themselves.

As they marched on down the street, clinking each time the chains slashed against their back, sweating profusely under their anonymous disguises, it was a vivid, firsthand illustration of Christ's atonement for my sin - a deep theological lesson that in those few moments was comprehended even by a small first grade mind.

What I witnessed that Holy Week has resonated with me ever since. For sure, though those I observed were desperately trying to mimic Christ in His sufferings, and what I witnessed was indeed severe on a human scale, they still weren't coming close to capturing all that my Saviour endured. Though in other parts of the country others reenact actually being nailed to a cross, I never witnessed them firsthand. The despair, lack of hope and vain pursuit of atonement that entire week could be overwhelming, were it not for the mountain top, which I'll explain next time.

Here's an adult perspective on some of the same things I witnessed and some that I had forgotten.