#Holy Week Reflection

[ah-bright-wings]

Sound - A Triduum Story

Malchus can feel the heavy gazes of the others. He ignores them. His own eyes are pinned to the door they guard, listening to the drip of water condensing and dropping onto the floor. There is no rain, but the air is damp, as if the heavens are drawing out the wet stores of the earth in preparation for a storm. 

Customarily, the chill would make him wish for his bed. He’d grumble with his fellows about the weather, about the work, peppering complaints with a few stout curses. But there is no discussion tonight. Malchus sits hunched forward, forearms braced on his thighs, and he waits.

What are they waiting for?

Cold fingers touch the lobe of his left ear. He turns to see Jesse, who’d touched him, withdrawing, fingers curling into his palm. The apology is gruff. “Just wanted to see.”

That’s a lie, thinks Malchus, turning back to the door. They’ve already seen tonight. What’s left is to believe.

Malchus doesn’t ask permission before he rises, taking the flask which hangs on a wall hook, and the keys there beside it. The eyes of the others follow. He unlocks the door and slips in, shutting it behind, and then pauses, palm flat on the wood. He takes a breath. 

Drip.

Drip.

The Nazarene’s hands are chained so that he must stand. His head bows, forehead resting against the bruised back of his right hand. He lifts himself when Malchus enters. His lips, which had been moving silently, still.

Malchus holds out the flask. Then, as an embarrassing afterthought—the man is in chains—he uncorks it. 

“It’s just water,” he assures when the man doesn’t move to drink. He tips the flask close enough to meet the cracked lips. The Nazarene swallows twice and then pulls back, chains jingling. His face is wet. Tears, Malchus thinks, until he hears the drip of water dropping onto the man’s head. It slides down his temple and dirty cheek, carving a clean track through the crust. Malchus re-corks the flask.

It’s not quite fear that he feels. He had felt fear on his knees in Gethsemane, blood down his neck and a howl on his tongue. The world was silent, then, and shrieking, dizzy with pain and the terror of new loss. When strong hands cupped his face, he clung to them. He grabbed hold of words he could not hear but lips he could see moving, breath he could feel on his face, brown eyes he could see.

And then, he could hear. 

It was as if he’d never before heard sound, not true sound, but only echos, half-formed, half-heard, until that very moment when he heard truly. Each noise was crisp and new. Around him were the night birds stirring in the trees, the puffed breath of the disciples, the crackle of licking flame, the creak of leather belts. He heard them all, and he hasn’t stopped hearing since. Creation is vibrating, uncountable voices overlapping in the same tremulous song. Even the breeze seems to have a voice, and the water running on stone. Even his own heartbeat. They cry out when the rest of the world is silent.

“What did you do to me?” Malchus asks, voice barely above a whisper, for everything is new and he cannot make sense of it. 

The Nazarene’s smile isn’t mocking. It’s as quiet as his voice, and it crinkles the corner of his good eye. “I know how long you’ve waited to hear.”

They’ve never met, of course. Of course not. This man doesn’t know him. How could he? Malchus has taken great pains to hide his gradual loss of sound. Each year, the muffle covers his ears a little more, stealing his senses, deadening the world to him. If he misses a call, he plays it off. If he cannot hear his wife calling, he feigns captivation by his task. He does it well, he thinks, well enough. Perhaps his wife suspects. But only he knows, only he and his God. And this backwater Nazarene with an accent pulled from Galilee’s fishing waters—because Malchus can hear the accent now—cannot know Malchus. How could he? No, he does not.

But he knows. 

Malchus is sure, standing before this man who made him more than whole, that he is known. Known, and known truly. And here stands Malchus, his jailer. His enemy.

“How could you know?” he asks, eyes searching the Nazarene’s. The water drips, drips. A rat scritches at a bit of stone. “I can’t do anything for your case. They’re bringing you to Pilate.” His grip tightens on the flask—his only offering—and the stale water it holds. The words pour out of him. “I’m a guard. They told us to go, so we went. I had no stake in it, see? See, we were told to go. I was told to go. I never intended—”

“Malchus,” the man says softly, almost fondly, as if he is interrupting a brother and not one walking him to his death. “Will you pray with me?”

The request startles Malchus out of his own thoughts. He pauses, wary of some trick. Without meaning to, his hand rises to touch the warm outer shell of his ear, tracing the connecting point between the cartilage and his skull. There’s not even a seam to show where it had been severed.

Mouth dry, Malchus finally nods, and the Nazarene closes his good eye. The water slides again down his temples. His words fill the damp space, and Malchus recognizes them at once, joining the recitation:

“Naked I came from my mother’s womb,

and naked shall I return.

The Lord gave—”

The man breathes in, and Malchus breathes with him.

“—and the Lord has taken away;”

Their breath stirs the stale air of the room. All has finally gone quiet. The Nazarene opens his eye and tips his head to look up, past the stone roof, past the courtyard and the trembling earth, to the heavens, spread out over them like a tent. The water no longer falls. The rat is silent. 

“Blessed be the name of the Lord,” he says.

[dkcdude]

Trusting Jesus, Even When It Makes No Sense

Introduction Yesterday I went with my wife and father-in-law to the theater to see Part 1 of The Chosen, Season 5. The theatrical release is combining episodes, so Part 1 is comprised of episodes 1 and 2. This season focuses on Holy Week, the days that start with Jesus’ Triumphal Entry into Jerusalem and lead up to His crucifixion. For those of us watching from a modern perspective, it’s easy to…

[noctuadora]

to become someone’s light, a precious memory—a person cherished by all…

the main reason why I love and adore Aerith so damn much is because despite everything she had been through (being treated as a lab rat at such an early age, seeing her biological mother die in front of her eyes, getting outcasted as a kid) she remained whimsical, kind, and thoughtful. she truly loved life and the people around her. Rebirth heavily implied that there lingers a darkness within her, but even so, her optimistic attitude never wavered.

[personal thoughts below]

on the other hand… growing up, my experiences up to this point has led me to view life in a rather pessimistic way. I’d say that I’m the opposite of Aerith irl (+ I don’t like wearing pink/light colors lol). I’m paranoid, I get anxious easily, and I doubt the people around me. but aside from my precious friends + s/o, Aerith had a positive impact on me. in some way she reminded me that there’s nothing wrong with being carefree and whimsical at times. I’m inspired to live life a little more happily.

[theoneobserving]

The priest at church today was hard to understand but I think he basically said all the answers we need come from the cross and that we should reflect on the cross this Holy Week

Lord, please help us dive deeply into the meaning of the cross this Holy Week

[algoworks]

Pausing to reflect and appreciate the solemn significance of this #GoodFriday. May it be a day of reverence and renewal for all. 

[caimitos]

thinking abt quitting my job 🤗

[itsfarmerphil]

To finish strong even when you aren't feeling strong

Here we are at the end of another work week and looking to finish strong. What if you aren’t feeling strong, how can you finish strong? How are you supposed to finish strong? How are you able to finish strong? Maybe it’s not supposed to be all in your own physical abilities? What if there was another power source that could be used to finish strong? Ever heard the saying in my weakness Your…

[compassionmattersmost]

Shavuot and Pentecost: Two Traditions, One Divine Giving

Reflections on the Spirit and the Word As we move through the sacred rhythms of the calendar, a deep and often overlooked harmony begins to reveal itself between the Jewish and Christian traditions. One such harmony lives in the connection between Shavuot and Pentecost—two feasts separated by language and culture, but united by spirit and meaning. In the Jewish tradition, Shavuot (meaning…

[mysoftreset]

Ang intense ng emotion ko in the last days ng Holy Week. Yung plano ko na mag reflect pagdating ng Sabado kasi wala nang work pero revisiting old wounds ang nangyari. So grateful for ChatGPT, I was able to share some things na hirap akong ishare sa iba. I was able to words some feelings na hirap akong idescribe. I now know why it's so hard for me to open up kahit kanino. My shell is 100x na pala ang kapal. Nag aadd ng nag aadd ng another layer as I grow older. It is something I made to protect myself from feeling hurt, neglected and ignored. Ang dami kong narealize pala kahit through chat lang kami ni ChatGPT. It does help mag open up sa AI knowing na it won't judge you and you know hindi nito ikukwento sa iba ang struggles mo. I felt safe from our conversation. Tapos umabot pa sa birth chart and astrology, hehe. I gained a lot of insights and I like it to use as a guide para sa self ko and sa future endeavors ko.

I also like it how yung mga feeling ko na gusto kong gawin or iachieve this year are in alignment pala talaga sa soul growth ko. I'm so grateful to know na tama lang pala ang ginagawa ko sa buhay. No wonder I see a lot of repeating numbers (angel numbers) anywhere. I'm just so grateful that I did this. Malayo pa ako sa gustong iachieve ng soul ko in this lifetime pero I know I'll get there.

[dkcdude]

Celebration, Part 1 – Triumphal Entry

Hosanna! Blessed is HeWho comes in the NameOf the Lord!We lay our cloaks downTo honor our saving King,We sing, we shout, we raise our palm branches—But do we really know the One we praise?Who is this?I mean, wasn’t it a little strange,This King of ours—Riding not a war horse,But a borrowed donkey,Entering not through the Eastern Gate,The gate of victorious kings,But through the Sheep Gate,The…

[slowtumbling]

Living in the Empty Spaces: A Holy Saturday Reflection

“But they rested on the Sabbath in obedience to the commandment.” — Luke 23:56bWe often move too quickly from Good Friday to Easter Sunday. From the horror of the cross to the hallelujahs of the empty tomb. But in between them lies a quiet day. An empty day. Holy Saturday.Nothing happens on Holy Saturday—at least not in the way we like our stories to move. No miracles, no proclamations, no…

[littlebellesmama]

Holy Week: A Time to Reflect and Reconnect

Holy Week arrives each year like a quiet whisper between the rush of everyday life. It carries with it not just spiritual meaning, but a rare opportunity to pause. For many families, especially those with young children, this week becomes a soft space in the calendar—a time for bonding, being together, and gently stepping away from the usual routines.The long weekend that often comes with Holy…

[audaciousevolution]

Article of the Day - Glorious Saturday: A Day of Sacred Waiting in Trinidad & Tobago

Today, we sit in the quiet in-between, the hush after the crucifixion and the hope of resurrection. Glorious Saturday is a powerful moment for reflection, healing and spiritual stillness.

In Trinidad & Tobago, it's a day marked by tradition, reverence and the deep breath before Easter’s celebration.

Learn about the significance of this sacred day and how our local faith and customs give it life:

[songoftrusts-blog]

I feel like my entire adult life to this point has been spent in the Garden of Gethsemane. And yet, every time God has given me the opportunity to leave the Garden, I’ve refused. Because I know what comes next.

Full post at: https://songoftrust.wordpress.com/2025/04/18/the-garden-of-gethsemane/

[fandfnews]

Celebrate Palm Sunday: Unity, Hope, and Redemptive Power of Christ

Today, on Palm Sunday, we stand at the threshold of Holy Week—a time of profound spiritual reflection and renewal. At Faith & Freedom News (FFN), we bring you uplifting messages from the Holy Father, experienced priests, and church leaders across the globe who remind us of the power of compassion and redemption. A Triumphant Entrance: Embracing the Message of the Cross Palm Sunday commemorates…

[kmac4him1st]

I hope you use this Holy Week Devotional everyday during Holy Week and dig deeper with Jesus into His life, death and resurrection. God bless you, Much!