On Good Friday, we see the betrayal, suffering, and injustice that Jesus willingly endured for us. The chief priests and elders plot against Him, bind Him, and deliver Him to Pilate, seeking His death. Though Jesus had committed no crime, they are determined to silence Him.

Judas, filled with remorse, returns the thirty pieces of silver to the chief priests and confesses, “I have sinned by betraying innocent blood.” But the religious leaders, caring nothing for his guilt, simply say, “What is that to us? You see to it!” Judas throws the silver into the temple and goes out and hangs himself. The leaders, still worried about appearances, refuse to put the blood money into the treasury and instead use it to buy a potter’s field—fulfilling what had been spoken by the prophet Jeremiah (referencing Zechariah 11:12–13).

As Jesus stands before Pilate, Pilate asks Him, “Are You the King of the Jews?” Jesus responds, “It is as you say.” As the accusations continue, Jesus remains silent, refusing to defend Himself. Pilate is amazed, knowing that Jesus is not guilty, but also knowing that the religious leaders have stirred up the crowd against Him.

In an attempt to release Jesus, Pilate offers to free one prisoner, as was the custom during the feast. He presents Jesus and Barabbas—a notorious criminal. But the chief priests persuade the crowds to demand Barabbas’ release instead. When Pilate asks what should be done with Jesus, the people shout, “Let Him be crucified!” Even after Pilate questions them, asking what evil Jesus had done, the crowd only grows louder in demanding His death.

Pilate, seeing that a riot is forming, washes his hands publicly and claims innocence but still delivers Jesus over to be crucified. The soldiers take Jesus, strip Him, mock Him, and press a crown of thorns onto His head. They spit on Him, beat Him, and mock Him again before leading Him away to Golgotha.

Jesus is crucified between two robbers. The crowds, the religious leaders, and even the criminals mock Him, taunting Him to save Himself if He truly is the Son of God. Yet Jesus remains on the cross, not because He could not save Himself, but because He chose to save us instead. Above His head, they place the charge written against Him: “THIS IS JESUS THE KING OF THE JEWS.”

Good Friday forces us to see the full weight of our sin and the full measure of Christ’s love. Jesus endured betrayal, injustice, pain, and death not because He deserved it, but because He chose to obey the Father’s will and redeem us. As we reflect on the cross today, we should remember that our salvation came at a great price—a reminder to examine our hearts and to truly live in gratitude for what Jesus has done.

May we never forget the blood that was shed for us and the love that held Jesus to the cross.

On Holy Thursday, we see Jesus preparing to celebrate the Passover with His disciples, fully aware that it would be His final meal before the cross. The disciples ask where they should prepare for it, and Jesus tells them to go into the city to a certain man and say, “The Teacher says, ‘My time is at hand; I will keep the Passover at your house with My disciples.’” Even in these final hours, Jesus is fully in control of the timing and the plan.

When evening came, Jesus sat down with the twelve. As they were eating, He said, “Assuredly, I say to you, one of you will betray Me.” The disciples were deeply grieved, and each one asked Him, “Lord, is it I?” Even Judas, who had already set his heart to betray Him, asked the same question. Jesus answered, “He who dipped his hand with Me in the dish will betray Me.” He follows it with a sobering warning: “Woe to that man by whom the Son of Man is betrayed! It would have been good for that man if he had not been born.”

Even here, at the table of fellowship, betrayal was close. Judas had walked with Jesus, heard His teaching, seen His miracles—and yet chose to sell Him for thirty pieces of silver.

But Jesus doesn’t stop at revealing betrayal. In the middle of this heavy moment, He establishes something new. He takes the bread, blesses it, breaks it, and gives it to the disciples, saying, “Take, eat; this is My body.” Then He takes the cup, gives thanks, and gives it to them, saying, “Drink from it, all of you. For this is My blood of the new covenant, which is shed for many for the remission of sins.” Through this, Jesus points them (and us) to the greater work He was about to accomplish through His death: the new covenant of grace, purchased by His blood.

Jesus ends the evening by telling them that He will not drink of the fruit of the vine again until He drinks it new with them in His Father’s Kingdom. After singing a hymn, they go out to the Mount of Olives, where Jesus will ultimately be arrested.

Holy Thursday reminds us that Jesus willingly chose the path to suffering for our sake. He was not caught off guard by betrayal or death. He embraced the Father’s will with full knowledge of the cost. As we remember the Last Supper today, we should examine our own hearts: Are we living in gratitude for the body broken and the blood shed for us? Are we walking faithfully, or are we allowing the cares of this world to lead us away from Him?

May we follow the example Jesus set—not shrinking away when hardship comes, but clinging to the promises of our salvation bought by His blood.

“And when Jesus was in Bethany at the house of Simon the leper, a woman came to Him having an alabaster flask of very costly fragrant oil, and she poured it on His head as He sat at the table. But when His disciples saw it, they were indignant, saying, “Why this waste? For this fragrant oil might have been sold for much and given to the poor.” But when Jesus was aware of it, He said to them, “Why do you trouble the woman? For she has done a good work for Me. For you have the poor with you always, but Me you do not have always. For in pouring this fragrant oil on My body, she did it for My burial. Assuredly, I say to you, wherever this gospel is preached in the whole world, what this woman has done will also be told as a memorial to her.” Then one of the twelve, called Judas Iscariot, went to the chief priests and said, “What are you willing to give me if I deliver Him to you?” And they counted out to him thirty pieces of silver. So from that time he sought opportunity to betray Him.” Read Full Chapter >>>

On Holy Wednesday, we find Jesus in Bethany at the house of Simon the leper, just days before the cross. A woman enters—unnamed in Matthew’s account, but unforgettable in her devotion.

She brings with her an alabaster flask filled with very costly fragrant oil—and she pours it out upon Jesus’ head without hesitation.
But not everyone understands this act for what it is.

The disciples call it waste. “This could’ve been sold and given to the poor,” they protest—seemingly attempting to hide their discomfort with the woman’s unfiltered act of adoration behind the appearance of practical concern.

Jesus corrects them gently but firmly: “Why do you trouble the woman? For she has done a good work for Me.”
He reminds them (and us) that while there will always be opportunities to serve the poor, this moment was sacred.
Her anointing was not wasteful—it was prophetic. She had unknowingly prepared His body for burial.

Then Jesus says: “Wherever this gospel is preached in the whole world, what this woman has done will also be told as a memorial to her.”
Think of that. Her story would be woven into the story of the cross itself—an eternal reminder that Jesus is worthy of our most costly offering.

But this moment of worship and honor is followed by betrayal.
Judas Iscariot leaves the table and goes to the chief priests. The one who had just witnessed this woman pour out all she had now sells the Son of God for thirty pieces of silver—the price of a slave (Exodus 21:32).

The woman gives everything for Jesus, but Judas gives Jesus up for the price of a slave.

How quick are we in our own lives to devote all we have for Jesus?
May we follow the example of this woman, who did not care what others might think or say, and let our lives be marked by this same kind of bold, sacrificial worship.
And may we not care more for the things of this earth, as Judas did, than for the One who is worthy of everything.

'Now in the morning, as He returned to the city, He was hungry. And seeing a fig tree by the road, He came to it and found nothing on it but leaves, and said to it, “Let no fruit grow on you ever again.” Immediately the fig tree withered away. And when the disciples saw it, they marveled, saying, “How did the fig tree wither away so soon?” So Jesus answered and said to them, “Assuredly, I say to you, if you have faith and do not doubt, you will not only do what was done to the fig tree, but also if you say to this mountain, ‘Be removed and be cast into the sea,’ it will be done. And whatever things you ask in prayer, believing, you will receive.” Read Full Chapter >>>

Fruit or Leaves?

On Holy Tuesday, Jesus encounters a fig tree—full of leaves but bearing no fruit. He then rebukes it, and immediately it withers. Jesus doesn’t do this passively or out of irritation; this was a symbolic and prophetic act.

The fig tree was a symbol of Israel’s spiritual condition and representative of the hearts of the religious leaders of His time—leaders Jesus would soon go on to call “serpents,” a “brood of vipers,” and “whitewashed tombs full of bones and uncleanness.”

Though these religious leaders maintained their laws, rituals, and the appearance of holiness, they lacked genuine spiritual life. Like the tree, they bore no fruit.
Just as the fig tree was judged for its barrenness, so too would the religious establishment be held accountable for rejecting the very Messiah their Scriptures foretold.

Thankfully, Jesus doesn’t leave the lesson there. From judgment, He moves to faith.

When the disciples express amazement at how quickly the fig tree withered, Jesus responds with a promise in verse 21—reminding them (and us) not to doubt, and to remember the power we have through faith in Him.

This is the model of faith we are to walk in—not a faith that seeks selfish outcomes, but a faith that trusts the will of God, prays according to it, and believes He is both willing and able to act. This is also rebuke to a nation that had lost true faith. Their leaders had the Scriptures, the temple, and the traditions—but they lacked the faith that pleases God (Hebrews 11:6).

As we continue through Holy Week, this section of scripture is a fitting place for us to examine our own religion. Do we care more about “fruit” or about “leaves”?

But as we examine ourselves and meditate on Jesus’ journey to the cross, we are reminded not to be condemned by the areas where our faith may fall short, but instead we are called to have faith in Him - a faith that can cast mountains into the sea!

“Then Jesus went into the temple of God and drove out all those who bought and sold in the temple, and overturned the tables of the money changers and the seats of those who sold doves. And He said to them, “It is written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer,’ but you have made it a ‘den of thieves.’ ” Then the blind and the lame came to Him in the temple, and He healed them. But when the chief priests and scribes saw the wonderful things that He did, and the children crying out in the temple and saying, “Hosanna to the Son of David!” they were indignant and said to Him, “Do You hear what these are saying?” And Jesus said to them, “Yes. Have you never read, ‘Out of the mouth of babes and nursing infants You have perfected praise’?” Then He left them and went out of the city to Bethany, and He lodged there.”
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On this Holy Monday, we see a Jesus not always depicted in Sunday School—not meek and mild, not quietly teaching on a hillside, but righteous, fiery, and uncompromising in His holiness. The Messiah enters His Father’s house not as a visitor, but as its rightful Owner. But what does He find? Corruption.

The money changers and merchants alone were not the problem, but they had become corrupt by overcharging and taking advantage of the faithful. A place that was meant to be the holiest had become defiled.

In righteous anger, Christ throws them out and flips their tables. He quotes Isaiah 56:7: “My house shall be called a house of prayer”—and with it, condemns the religious leaders who had allowed and profited from the desecration of the temple.

Let this be a lesson to us: not to allow the corrupt practices of the world into our lives, which are meant to be set apart in Him. As 1 Peter chapter 1 says: “But as He who called you is holy, you also be holy in all your conduct, because it is written, ‘Be holy, for I am holy’” (verses 15–16).

Jesus’ example to us is also one of righteous anger—to “be angry and do not sin” (Ephesians 4:26). Our hearts should feel sadness, pain, and yes—even anger—when we see things that are holy being corrupted to suit the will of men.

Lastly, as we move through this Holy Week and consider each day of Jesus’ journey to the cross, may we remember that even in His final days before His death and resurrection—and knowing full well what He was about to suffer—He remained faithful to His calling. He put first the spiritual and physical well-being of His followers.

Let us take this to heart as we live our lives in Him, with that same calling: to be holy as He is holy, and to put first His Kingdom.