Nobody slept much the night before. Jesus had been arrested. He wasn’t coming back. He was taken to the High Priest’s home, charged with crimes he did not commit. He was tortured by the Romans while his own people watched. He spent Thursday night as a prisoner, and...

If Wednesday was silent, Thursday was sacred. Intentional. Intimate. It’s Jesus with His closest friends, breaking bread in a borrowed room, knowing full well that betrayal is already in motion, the cross is closer than ever, and time is running out.

Wednesday was eerily quiet. The calm before the storm. The the Gospels go mostly silent about this day. Nothing flashy. No public teaching. No dramatic miracles. Just… quiet. But don’t mistake the silence for peace. Beneath the stillness, a dark plot is unfolding.

If Monday was disruptive, Tuesday only added pressure to the tension that had been building. On Monday, Jesus flipped tables. On Tuesday, he flipped the script on the religious establishment. By now, Jesus had the attention of the entire city. The religious leaders...

The Monday before Easter was not a chill, ordinary day. This was a day of confrontation, clarity, and calling stuff out for what it was. Jesus wasn’t easing into His final week like someone dipping a toe in cold water. He cannonballed straight into the deep end and made waves. Big ones.