From palms and branches, as we pass from divine Feast to divine Feast, let us believers make haste together to the solemn and saving celebration of the Sufferings of Christ. Let us look upon Him as He undergoes voluntary suffering for our sake and let us raise a fitting hymn of thanksgiving to Him crying out, ‘Source of compassion and harbour of salvation, O Lord, glory to Thee!’ (from the apostikha at Vespers on the Leave-taking of the Feast of Palms)

This verse marks the transition in our journey from the celebration of Palm Sunday to the gathering darkness of Holy Week. The Great Fast came to an end on Friday. On Saturday we recalled our Lord Jesus Christ weeping at the tomb of Lazarus, how He raised Lazarus from the dead. Today we have joined the children of the Hebrews in their joy, acclaiming Him as He enters Jerusalem. We held high our palms and pussy-willows: Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is He that comes in the name of the Lord! And yet this feast is ephemeral, this celebration lasts but a day. Some terrible darkness descends. The Lord is abandoned, condemned and vilified. In the course of this week things move inexorably to betrayal. abuse, crucifixion.

For Orthodox Christians, Holy Week is an extraordinary time. We can hardly bear to be at work or at school. We want to be in the church following the Gospel accounts and the hymns and prayers that provide the teaching and commentary we need to hear. In our homes we try to create a certain quiet, a reverence and respect. Holy Week is the Big Thing and all else is distraction. It is something we participate in. It is as if we enter into Holy Week, stepping out of time as we usually experience it, and are ourselves caught up in the sacred drama.

Of course, it can be difficult to make the time to attend to Holy Week with the full attention it calls for. Each person will do his or her best to participate in the mystery of the week and honour this most special time of the year. 

On Holy Thursday we hear the Lord say to His disciples in the garden at Gethsemane, “Wait with me.”  Is it so much to ask?

On the one hand, it seems we do a lot of waiting in life. On the other, we are always in a hurry. And so waiting infuriates us, for we are busy people, the centre of our universe.

The disciples could not wait and watch with the Lord, and they were not even in a rush. They just fell asleep. Perhaps they were exhausted. Perhaps they needed to give themselves some 'me-time'. But was it so much for the Lord to ask them to wait with Him on this night?

When someone we love is dying everything seems to be a in a rush - this appointment, that appointment, these things to be picked up, those things to be scheduled - but then - then there is the waiting. And when we have done everything there really is nothing left to do but wait. Death comes on its own time-table. Our beloved says to us: please, will you stay with me? Of course we will! How could we do otherwise? Or?

To wait, to keep vigil, is not easy. It is hard. We are so busy, we have so much to do....  But why is it that the slumber of the disciples - their inability to wait with the distressed and suffering Lord, even though He asks them repeatedly, pointedly  - why do we find this moment in the garden so sad, so charged with emotion? Why do we want to shake them and even shame them - can't you even watch with Him for little while? Is it our conscience that recognizes something of ourselves in them?

Can't we spare some time from our busy lives on this of all weeks to be with Him?