“When the centurion who stood facing him

saw how he breathed his last he said, 

‘Truly this man was the Son of God!’

...[Pilate] summoned the centurion

and asked him if Jesus had already died.

And when he learned of it from the centurion, 

he gave the body to Joseph.

Having bought a linen cloth, he took him down,

wrapped him in the linen cloth,

and laid him in a tomb that had been hewn out of the rock.

Then he rolled a stone against the entrance to the tomb.

Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of Joses

watched where he was laid.”

Some people seemed to breeze through basic training. Their combination of determination, competency, athletic ability, and judgement were well suited for the challenges thrown at us during basic. I was not one of those people. I struggled. When the school year started, I struggled some more with the addition of academics. Some days required every ounce of resolve I could muster just to make it through. And, often, I had to lean on my classmates for support. I just couldn’t do it myself. While it seemed like an unbearably long time, hope strengthened as we got closer to recognition. That is the event in the spring when cadets are recognized as having completed the Fourth Class System and life gets markedly better. To intensify the training for the forty days before recognition, I was assigned an upperclass cadet as my “hell master.” The week before recognition was called “hell week” and we packed in all the major events of basic training into the last three days. At the end, with a sense of accomplishment, it was like we were human beings again. 

I’m not sure if that one experience formed me this way, but I like to save the best for last. If there is something on the plate that is a favorite, I’ll make sure it’s the last bite of the meal. I definitely eat the cake before I eat the icing. When I have an option, I want to get through the difficult task, the most disagreeable encounter, or all the unpleasantness up front. Give me the bad news first. Pull off the bandaid quick. I always watch them put the needle in my arm when drawing blood. On a hike, I prefer uphill at the beginning and coasting downhill at the end. Every story doesn’t need a happy ending, but I do like a good resolution. Some of my most frustrating reads have been ones where it simply ends, as if we’ve finally just lost interest in following these characters. Time to change the channel. Yuk! I’m not a glutton for punishment (after a few valiant attempts to enjoy and appreciate opera, I gave it up for good), but I don’t mind pushing through difficulty to accomplish something worthwhile. In fact, although it’s not universally true, I presume anything worthwhile will take some difficulty. 

Until I wrote the first paragraph, I hadn’t considered how similar recognition was to Easter: forty days of preparation, a final week, three final days, and celebration of new life. We have our season of Lent, Holy Week, and Triduum (three days—Holy Thursday, Good Friday, and Holy Saturday) before we get to Easter. The good part is at the end, but we can’t make it to resurrection without suffering and death. There is no rising without the tomb. There is no new life without the passion. The most worthwhile thing ever done had a cost. It is, really, a package deal. As we enter Holy Week, don’t just skip to the end. Experience the mystery. Encounter the passion. Descend into the tomb. And, then, rise!