"Sustaining the Weary in a World on Edge" - A Holy Wednesday Reflection from Rev. Dale Matherly

Link to Isaiah Scripture: https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Isaiah%2050%3A4-9&version=NRSVUE Link to John Scripture: https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=John%2013%3A21-32&version=NRSVUE Link to Hebrews Scripture: https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Hebrews%2012%3A1-3&version=NRSVUE 

Holy Wednesday arrives quietly, but it does not arrive gently. These are days when tension hangs in the air. We move toward the cross with the awareness that the world itself often feels close to fracture — anxious, divided, uncertain. We hear news of conflict, displacement, and violence across the globe: the ongoing war in Ukraine, escalating fighting involving Iran and Israel, widening instability in Lebanon, and continuing suffering in Gaza and surrounding regions. In recent weeks, military strikes, retaliations, and humanitarian disruptions have intensified, with medical supply routes hindered and civilian displacement increasing across the Middle East. 

Holy Week does not ignore such realities. In fact, the readings for Holy Wednesday speak directly into them.

Isaiah begins with a quiet but powerful image: “The Lord God has given me a trained tongue, that I may know how to sustain the weary with a word…morning by morning he wakens my ear to listen.” 

The world is weary right now.

Weary from war.

Weary from rhetoric that escalates fear.

Weary from watching suffering unfold at a distance and feeling powerless to change it.

Weary from uncertainty about what tomorrow might bring.

Isaiah does not call for louder voices. Instead, the servant listens. Morning by morning. Ear opened. Attention shaped. The task is not to win arguments but to sustain the weary.

This feels like a needed word in our time. Anxiety tends to pull us toward certainty, toward hardened positions, toward quick judgments. Yet Isaiah suggests another path — listening deeply enough that our words become healing rather than wounding.

John’s Gospel then brings us into the upper room. Jesus is troubled. The atmosphere is tense. He names betrayal among those closest to him. Judas receives the bread and leaves. And John writes simply: “So, after receiving the piece of bread, he immediately went out. And it was night.” 

And it was night.

It is difficult not to hear that phrase as more than description. The night is what happens when fear overtakes trust. The night is what happens when relationships fracture. The night is what happens when violence becomes imaginable — and then possible.

We live in such a night. Not total darkness, but deepening shadows. Nations mistrust one another. Violence escalates. Civilians suffer. Leaders speak in absolutes. And many of us wonder how to remain faithful in such a moment.

What is remarkable is how Jesus responds. He does not lash out. He does not shame Judas. He does not abandon the table. He remains present. He continues to offer bread. He continues to love.

This is not passive love. It is courageous love. It is love that refuses to mirror the hostility around it. It is love that remains grounded even as the night unfolds.

Hebrews adds one more layer: “Let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus… who endured the cross, disregarding its shame… so that you may not grow weary in your souls or lose heart.” 

Do not grow weary. Do not lose heart.

This is not denial of suffering. It is encouragement in the midst of it. The early church knew violence, instability, and fear. Yet they were invited to perseverance — to keep walking, to keep loving, to keep trusting that God’s work continues even in uncertain times.

Holy Wednesday invites us into that same posture.

When anxiety rises, listen morning by morning.

When rhetoric escalates, speak words that sustain.

When fear spreads, remain at the table.

When the night deepens, do not lose heart.

We may not be able to resolve global conflicts. We may not be able to quiet every voice of division. But we can choose how we show up. We can resist the pull toward dehumanization. We can pray for those caught in violence. We can remain attentive to suffering. We can embody the steady presence of Christ in anxious times.

Holy Wednesday does not remove the tension. It teaches us how to live within it.

The night may deepen.

But Jesus remains at the table.

The weary may struggle.

But God still gives words that sustain.

The world may tremble.

But love still endures.

And even now — especially now — we are invited to follow him there.

---

Rev. Dale Matherly serves as the Interim Executive Regional Minister for the Central Rocky Mountain Region of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) and as Director of Disciples Interims.