Holy Week Adoration: Your Marvelous Silence

Now Jesus stood before the governor. And the governor asked Him, saying, “Are You the King of the Jews?” Jesus said to him, “It is as you say.” And while He was being accused by the chief priests and elders, He answered nothing. Then Pilate said to Him, “Do You not hear how many things they testify against You?” But He answered him not one word, so that the governor marveled greatly. . . Then the soldiers of the governor took Jesus into the Praetorium and gathered the whole garrison around Him. And they stripped Him and put a scarlet robe on Him. When they had twisted a crown of thorns, they put it on His head, and a reed in His right hand. And they bowed the knee before Him and mocked Him, saying, “Hail, King of the Jews!” Then they spat on Him, and took the reed and struck Him on the head. And when they had mocked Him, they took the robe off Him, put His own clothes on Him, and led Him away to be crucified. Matthew 27:11-14, Matthew 27: 27-31**

Nothing.

You answered nothing.

They sent words which pierced before they pierced Your skin … and You did not justify. Completely justifiable, You are the world’s true king, and You hung Your answer in Your silence.

Father all-powerful birthed meekness onto the earth, into the earth.

You lived Your message at humanity’s worst moment. You were one with Your Father and that oneness trumped any other strength. You chose to subject Your flesh to human weakness, at the hands of Your sons and daughters, because a new day was coming.

I praise You, oh God, for showing me the way Your Son stood tall (in You) when the world battered Him, low. He didn’t work at meekness, He was meekness, because a Son who is one with His Father need not bolster. He tuned His ear to a different wavelength — Yours.

He didn’t lash back or revolt. He welcomed death with an awareness of Your life coursing through the blood You gave Him to hold before it spilled out on that black night.

I adore You, Father, for unveiling that the way up is down. Your Son led the path to life.

He fasted momentary fame for a message which would be declared in heaven and on earth, then and now. He lived alignment so that I might know its safety, so that I might know the safety of tucking myself into You.

Though in His perfection His “yes” was resounding, He subjected Himself to dreadful weakness so that we might see that His “yes” would not waiver. He took the extreme of life’s struggles and lived them, in flesh, looking up. That silence — His testimony — gave me my own fresh spring for when life closes in. He chose You when the world got loud and angry, so that I might form a pattern after His life. And this not to mention the deposit offered to me three days later.

Meekness in me, God in me — what a beautiful offering, Jesus, was Your silence.

When my flesh revolts, Your life’s last moments, lived in skin, give me a silence I can both mimic and know way down deep. The cacophony of the world’s accusations, within and outside, falls powerless against my connection to the Father. You lived the safe agreement with Him You’ve now bequeathed to me.

I adore You, God who didn’t turn in Your power for meekness. You held both and You promised me the same.

I can know great strength bursting through this bruised shell because You went before me. Your love laid down all, so that I might sip surrender’s sweet brew.

The people mocked, spit and struck and You let them lead You to Your death. The governor marveled at Your silence, but I imagine it was nothing compared to the multitudes marveling among the heavenly hosts.

You conquered flesh at its worst, magnificently. Humbly. With meekness resting heavily on Your shoulders.

The skin You put on was taut around the marvelous mystery being revealed to the sons of men on that dark night. It couldn’t contain You.

And, oh God, even just stepping into that account from way back when changes me. My insides cannot contain yet another year’s revelation being birthed out of this remembrance.

Oh the wonderful Man, who carried the cross.

I see that we’ve only just met.

**So …adoration — what do I do with these posts? you ask. First, if you haven’t yet, do read: Why I AdoreHow to Really Fall in Loveand The Words to Use When You’re Not Ready to Talk  to give you a context.

If you are compelled, don’t wait until you feel familiar and comfortable to start (ready, FIRE, aim). Set up a space and time in your own life to begin adoring. Over laundry or dinner dishes, on your commute to work, or in the wee morning hours — five or ten minutes is a great start. You can use the verses I list here with these Holy Week Adorations to start. Feel free to lurk or join the group of us over here, adoring daily.

Then practice praise — practicing telling your soul and telling God who He is. Even this small act of moving our mouths towards praise when we don’t feel it (especially when we don’t feel it), expands our insides.

I promise your weary soul won’t regret it.

***Feel free to lurk or join the group of us over here, adoring daily. 

Photo compliments of Mandie Joy.

View All Posts

Recent Blog Posts

When You Find Yourself Hopeless on Mother’s Day

There’s one kind of woman that still makes me cry. She stretches big bows around pink wrapping paper and makes casseroles when the mama is still hobbling the stairs and bleeding after-birth and she might as well start a pinterest account just for one year-old birthday parties — she’s been to so many. But her womb is empty. She laughs as parents recount toddler…
Continue

What Does it Mean to be Successful?

It’s Sunday night, and the only light in our foyer is from the moon, stretching its arm-beams across our lawn and bringing the outdoors inside with its reach. The house is at rest. Finally. It’s as if we all sighed — the walls, the keyboard, the well-loved doormats and me — when the last child turned off her light. Time lapse would have revealed sparkling…
Continue

The Gift of Limitations

It was a rambling college-town that hosted the race that was to be my last for a long time. It is a town where narrow dirt-and-dust roads lead to horse farms with near-perfect views of the Blue Ridge and millionaires shamelessly drive beat-up old Volvos. Eccentric. Every year, the allure of this four-miler, with its humanitarian push and socialite atmosphere,…
Continue

God Wants Our Sad

This friend’s eyes were some of the first to read the manuscript that I’d almost tucked under my mattress, hoping it would only be shared between me and God. As a timid response to the whisper from Him — write your story — I stayed up into the wee hours of the night and clicked away at the keys during nap-times. Then that…
Continue

I Share a Bloodline With The Children We Adopted

“Look, she’s calling you mommy!” said a beautifully well-intentioned friend, wanting to celebrate just how quickly we’d become a family. My little girl was building with legos in the corner and her less-than-nimble fingers needed help piecing them together. She called me mommy when she was hungry and when she needed help in the bathroom, too. We adopted our first…
Continue